Baseball is Ballet

I love baseball because my hometeam is going to the World Series. But I love baseball because its a beautiful thing to watch. Like ballet. Just watch a pitcher throw a perfect curveball, the batter swiiiiing, and WHACK! The sound resonates around the stadium, and the crowd responds. The batter sliiiides into first, steals sec0nd. The outfielder leaps--higher than a basketball champion. His glove reaching upwards....the camera shows: he touches the sky.

Watching baseball means holding your breath, inward, inward, and exhaling in relief. Yes, he made it. Peanuts, crackerjacks, forgotton, misplaced, dropped. Watching baseball means screwing up your face, his face, the pitcher's before he winds up over his shoulder, twist, release. Teeth grinding. You wait.

You pray and bargain with god. The stands are filled with saints and angels. Does god listen? Does he care who wins this game tonight? or is He watching the football game? Oh but the prayers. If only they prayed like this always, He says.

Nothing comes easy. Joy is earned.

Takes a while, this game, doesn't it? Oh, but the payoff. When you win... oh, joy! to win! Pure unadulturated glee, backslapping, secret handshaking champaign colored madness. Diamond spins dizzyingly as teammates embrace, circling a hero. Ahhh. Nothing like it.

Losing is numbing--fans sit as rain falls into the stadium, slides down the stands--as fans sit their tears slide down their faces. Long game if your team lost. Especially when it rains. When we all have ADD, baseball will be obsolete. But for now, there are still the fortunate few who associate stress, tension, and prolonged focus with entertainment. Long live this American pastime.