On Sunday, April 2, Major League Baseball, or the MLB’s regular season commenced with the first three games of the season. The following day, April 3, was Opening Day. Although not every American is a baseball fan, baseball is a part of every American. Granted, the United States is less than united right now; we have been divided by gender, politics, race, and religion, to name a few. However, baseball might be “the great unifier” more than anything – or anyone – else this year.
“Whoever wants to know the heart and mind of America had better learn baseball…” – Jacques Barzun.
Of course, baseball is more than America’s pastime – it is an integral part of a civic religion to which every citizen of the great, US-of-A can lay claim. To fully appreciate this concept, one must understand civic religion as a sociological theory that a “nonsectarian quasi-religious faith” exists within a nation, which boasts both its own collection of sacred symbols drawn from national – shared – history and a common set of values that foster cultural and social integration. Civic religion is something in which all citizens have a stake, so baseball, one of these aforementioned sacred symbols, must invoke some sort of common culture. As an icon found in our national history, baseball is steeped in a tradition which we all share.
“[Baseball] is an unchanging pageant and a ritualized drama… and although it is wholly urbanized, it still speaks of the small town and the simple rural era that lived before the automobile came in to blight the landscape. One reason for this is that in a land of unending change, baseball changes very little.” – Bruce Catton.
This tradition is fostered by the game as a generational constant. Historically speaking, neither wars nor the Great Depression could stop major league baseball; even in the midst of terroristic threats, a decaying economy, and floundering culture, baseball remains a constant in America. Steve Stone, a Texas Christian University baseball alumnus and current head baseball coach at Hebron High School, a competitive member of Texas’s 6-6A district, says it best: “I think that it is something that is handed down from generation to generation. The world has changed a lot in the last century… but, baseball seems to be one of the few things that stays pretty much the same.” Baseball seems to restore fans and franchises alike to a simpler time, free from the burdens of twenty-first century life. In a world where the threat of radical change, some good and some bad, looms, the rules of the game stay the same. To quote Robert Giovannetti, the Senior Associate Athletic Director at Texas Tech University, “There’s something serendipitous about the lines of play: 60 feet, six inches between the mound and home plate; 90 feet baselines. It’s perfect, there’s something beautiful about it.” While our world remains in constant flux, the baseball diamond remains in perfect symmetry. Such consistency fuels fan bases so historic, they rival the Freemasons.
“Baseball? It’s just a game; as simple as a ball and a bat. Yet, as complex as the American spirit it symbolizes. It’s a sport, business, and sometimes even religion.” – Ernie Harwell.
Inherently related to baseball’s status as America’s pastime, especially as both a custom and cultural cornerstone, is the common context which our ballparks provide. Take, for instance, the Philadelphia Phillies’ 2008 World Series Parade – attendance was estimated to be upwards of two million people on this single-day event. Compare this with the attendance of two other historic events: Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have A Dream” speech drew an audience of only 400,000 in 1963, and the Muslim hajj in Mecca is attended by no more than three million pilgrims annually. A shared context, facilitated by the reckless abandon of throngs of fans unconditionally committed to their teams, is what spawns widespread choreography. In “There’s a Unity Among Baseball Fans,” Alva Noe writes, “What unifies the fans, what organizes them and brings them into coordination, is their shared understanding and shared attention.” When we are communally focused on baseball, we are acting together, as a union.
The commonalities afforded to fans and players alike by the game often trump the trivial differences that wedge us apart. Riley Wayland, an infielder for D3 college, Southwestern University, speaks of the sport as an elementary escape from the processes of socialization that breed prejudice: “[Baseball] is a nice escape from everything that goes on in someone’s life. When you’re out on the field, you just get to focus on baseball and play a kid’s game, which coincides with unity, because the stereotypes and racism people hold are developed over time, and it’s another escape to get back to our childhood when everyone was equal in everyone’s eyes and we were all just playing games with each other.”
“More than any other American sport, baseball creates the magnetic, addictive illusion that it can almost be understood.” – Thomas Boswell.
When other sacred symbols fail to unite us, the common language provided by baseball provides a worthy substitute. Back in 2015, J. Randy Forbes, a former United States Representative for Virginia’s Fourth District, refers to baseball and the English language as two of many cultural touch points that “serve as the threads that connect us as a people.” Of the latter, in “Baseball, Language, and American Unity,” he writes, “Here in America, our language builds unity among citizens. It creates a sense of national pride. It contributes to our common purpose.” However, the United States is one of few countries internationally that lack an official language. When English fails us as our “communication currency,” baseball proves itself a sufficient surrogate. When language is inconsistent internationally, baseball is consistent internationally. Stephan White, an economics major and member of Tufts University’s D3 baseball team, saw this firsthand while watching the 2017 World Baseball Classic with a friend: “I was talking to a friend when we were watching and he said, ‘You know, it's incredible how, no matter where you're from, what language you speak, the game is played [stylistically] so similarly everywhere.’” This is particularly meaningful as in a nation where an increasing proportion of the population is foreign-born. In “Why America Loves Baseball,” Ben Livingston writes, “An immigrant who is completely unfamiliar with America can learn how to play baseball and all of a sudden feel a powerful connection to tens of millions of other Americans.” Moreover, baseball serves as a common language amongst immigrants living in America: storied outfielder Ichiro Suzuki, born in Japan and playing for Miami, was commended for learning Spanish in order to joke with and trash-talk his teammates. He once said that he felt a special bond with Latin American players in the MLB because they were also foreigners in a different country playing the same game.
“In baseball, democracy shines its clearest. The only race that matters is the race to the bag. The creed is the rule book. And color, merely something to distinguish one team’s uniform from another’s.” – Ernie Harwell.
Of course, winning is always the priority. In “The Inseparable Histories of Sport and Unity,” Nate Jackson writes, “There is no greater vehicle than sports to entice unity. It speaks to something much bigger than ourselves: the human will to win.” Jack Sides, a former varsity baseball player and current West Point offensive lineman, echoes this sentiment: “Nobody cares about race or gender or religion or ethnicity or culture as long as he’s on your side and giving 100% towards winning the World Series. You never see people upset if a lineup is all white or Hispanic or Venezuelan or black because [general managers] couldn't care less about what you look like when you hit or play in the field or are trying to steal… No fan cares what your political preferences are or your opinions on current events because when you're cheering for your team, it's a massive waste of time to even care about that stuff.” What matters is the pennant – not the ballot. Team loyalty has the power to transcend race and religion, as previously noted in the comparison of the Phillies’ 2008 World Series Parade to MLK’s “I Have A Dream” speech and the Muslim hajj. Team loyalty has the power to transcend socioeconomic differences. Of the Baltimore Orioles’ “One Baltimore” game on May 11, 2015, its first home outing following the Freddie Gray protests, Hannah Voelker, a native of Towson, Maryland, and longtime Orioles fan, shares: “It just allowed us to realize a few things… Baltimore is a divided city due to a large economic disparity. Despite this, everyone enjoys this team and wants to support it. Everyone was acknowledging of the work that needs to be done to create change, and used the team as a platform to advocate for a better city.” During those sweet six-to-(hopefully)-seven months a year that we abide by baselines, not party lines, we are on the same team as those who wear the same jerseys.
“You’re got to realize that in any competition, there is always a winner and a loser.” – Nolan Ryan.
Over the course of an MLB regular, though, both wins and losses are inevitable. When we find ourselves in the win column, it is our success that unites us. The civility demonstrated by Puerto Rico in the midst of its national team’s success in the World Baseball Classic in March, 2017, provides an excellent case study. Quoted in “A Psychologist Credits Low Criminal Rate to the World Baseball Classic,” Amarilis Ramos Rivera, the president of a psychological services company, linked the police department’s report that no murders, suicides, or fatal accidents were reported during the weekend of Saturday, March 18, and Sunday, March 19, to Puerto Rico’s 6-5 victory over Team USA, which both prolonged its undefeated streak and qualified the team for the semifinals. This occurrence mimicked the nation’s low crime rate during the 2016 Summer Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, especially during the weekend when the nation’s star women’s tennis player, Monica Puig, competed for the gold medal. Such is the case because national team games, nevertheless victorious ones, generate effects that cause changes in citizens’ environments. They promote alternative styles of socializing in health ways and reduce stress systems. Dr. Rivera says, “When we create alternatives for a culture of peace, we encourage honesty, equality, and respect.”
Even in a two-[MLB]-team city, one team’s pennant may prove to be more salient than another team’s defeat. Consider Chicago. In “In Chicago, the Cubs’ Win Brings Baseball Unity, For Now,” New York Times writer Julie Bosman covers both Cubs and White Sox territory. Whereas North Side locals root for the Chicago Cubs, housed by one of the sport’s crown jewels, Wrigley Field, South Siders – including Barack Obama – rally behind the Chicago White Sox, who play at Guaranteed Rate Field. However, when the Cubs beat the Cleveland Indians in the seventh game of the 2016 World Series, bringing the Commissioner’s Trophy back to the Windy City, all of Chicago was flying the W. Our relationality is thereby improved when we celebrate the successes of our shared teams.
“This is our fucking city. And nobody’s going to dictate our freedom. Stay strong.” – David Ortiz.
However, loss, both on the field and off, is to be expected during a season that lasts longer than half of the calendar year. Americans would be naïve not to expect some unpredicted tragedy to interrupt this MLB season. When fans are on their knees, though, it is often their team that hoists the city on its shoulders. Three excellent examples of this are the New York Yankees and Mets in the aftermath of 9/11, the Red Sox following the Boston Marathon bombings, and the Orioles in the midst of the Freddie Gray riots that disrupted Baltimore.
“Many of you give me praise for the two-run homerun on the first game back on September 21, to push us ahead of the rival Braves. But the true praise belongs to police, firefighters, and first responders, who knew they were going to die, but went forward anyway.” – Mike Piazza.
When two passenger airliners hijacked by al-Qaeda operatives, American Airlines Flight 11 and United Airlines Flight 175, were flown into New York City’s World Trade Center, both the North and South Towers and the nation were left in debris. While the men that decorated the New York Yankees’ roster watched this outside their windows, the New York Mets witnessed the wreckage outside their plane windows as they returned from an away series in Pittsburgh. For the first time since Franklin Delano Roosevelt died in office in 1945, then-MLB Commissioner Bud Selig postponed all MLB games until September 17. Both the Yankees and the Mets were to resume their respective seasons on the road. At their first outings, both teams replaced their caps with those of the New York Fire and Police Departments, and every MLB club was to sport the United States flag on the back of their jerseys and the left side of their caps for the season’s remainder. “God Bless America” was to accompany “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” during every seventh inning stretch.
Ten days after the terrorist attacks, the Mets would host the Atlanta Braves in the first professional sporting event in New York since 9/11. Had a majority of the Braves’ line-up voted to postpone the game, it would not have been played. 41,235 fans, who eagerly assumed the role of the families many had lost in the attacks, converged upon Shea Stadium on September 21, 2001, having elected to abstain from boo’ing and reserve the greatest cheers for first responders. In the middle of the seventh, Liza Minnelli sang “New York, New York,” played after every Yankees home game, as a tribute to the city. In the bottom of the eighth, the Mets trailed 2-1 with a man on base and Mike Piazza at the plate. In a split-second, though, Piazza sent the ball flying out of the park, scoring a pivotal two-run homer to restore New York’s lead. The entire stadium erupted – New York City erupted – a nation erupted. To quote John Dorn in “How Baseball Helped Return a Sense of Normalcy to Post-9/11 America,” “And with that, baseball returned to New York. But not just as games on a schedule – as a culture. As a normalcy, or something resembling it.” The game, nevertheless the Mets’ victory, afforded the city a sense of normalcy in the wake of tragedy. It assumed a curative role: “Amid the anguish, the tears, the fear and the unknown, a grief-stricken city was guided out of its darkest days by a game – by one game, by one homerun.” Better yet, baseball provided an interstate vehicle for expressing empathy and singularity. Recalling the Yankees’ biggest rival, the Boston Red Sox, singing “New York, New York” at Fenway Park following the 9/11 attacks, Zachary Rymer writes, “Looking beyond the Red Sox-Yankees rivalry was the only thing to do in that instance. It just didn’t matter. What mattered was that there were people in New York who were hurting, and they needed support… Baseball wasn’t important. Only people mattered.” Although the sport can never rival our relationality in importance, it can provide a means of expressing our togetherness.
“After something like [the Boston bombing], the eyes of the country – not just ESPN, but all major news networks – turn their attention to the first major event back in a city. That’s generally an athletic event. And baseball is a great venue for that.” – Robert Giovannetti.
The same held true for America’s pastime nearly twelve years later. When two bombs were detonated at the finish line of the Boston Marathon on April 15, 2013, shortly after the final pitch of the Red Sox’s 3-2 victory in the traditional Patriot’s Day game, Boston was paralyzed by fear and uncertainty. On April 20, against the backdrop of the Green Monster, the Red Sox played their first home game following the attacks. In a stirring speech punctuated by a line that has since echoed throughout Beantown, “This is our fucking city!” David Ortiz (better known as Big Papi), the team’s storied designated hitter, greeted fans with a rallying pre-game speech. It’s worth noting that the aforementioned expletive was aired on live broadcast, which normally would have levied extensive fines from the Federal Communication Commission, but then-chairman Julius Genachowski immediately tweeted his support of Ortiz’s rhetoric. Neil Diamond gave a surprise rendition of his classic, “Sweet Caroline,” the Red Sox’s unofficial song. Of the game, which the Red Sox won 4-3, Gregg Doyel writes, “That’s a sports moment, because that happened at a sports stadium, but so much of what unfolded last week wasn’t a sports story. It was a Boston story.” Even though the real meaning of the city’s loss and comeback (the Red Sox went on to win the 2013 World Series) was far greater than baseball, baseball proved to be a great means of encouraging the city.
Just as baseball is a sacred symbol in America, the symbols put forth by the Red Sox provided Bostonians with something by which to collectively identify. The “Boston Strong” jersey that the Red Sox hung in the visitors’ dugout when they played the Cleveland Indians on April 16, with the number 617 (Boston’s area code), became a banner for all Bostonians. At their aforementioned first outing at Fenway following the attacks, the team did not sport its traditional jerseys, emblazoned with “Red Sox” in neat, Gothic lettering across the chest, but ones that instead read “Boston.” The Gothic “B” that adorned the Red Sox’s caps became the “B” in “Boston Strong,” what became the city’s mantra. At the game the following day, outfielder Jonny Gomes debuted a special-made bat to honor the three victims and 260 wounded at the bombings and the MIT campus police officer shot on April 18, 2013, by the perpetrators of the attacks. These symbols, in conjunction with “Sweet Caroline” as a battle cry, provided the city with a unique set of devotional motifs in which to find solace.
Moreover, the Red Sox’s success that season became an image of resilience, paralleling Boston’s great comeback. In “Red Sox and Bombing-Scarred Boston Rise Together,” Boston Globe writer David Filipov writes, “Boston needed the Red Sox a bit more than usual this year… And more than ever, the team took on the personality of its recovering city.” Filipov quotes Dan Lebowitz, the executive director of Northeastern University’s Center for the Study of Sport in Society, as saying about the Red Sox’s stunning championship that season, “The Marathon happens, it was so injurious to the city… and the next thing you know, there’s this team of destiny rising through the ashes. It creates this dynamic of hope for the city moving forward.”
“We need to keep in mind people are suffering and dying around the US, and while we are thankful no one was injured at Camden Yards, there is a far bigger picture for poor Americans in Baltimore, and everywhere… and this makes inconvenience at a ballgame irrelevant in light of the needless suffering government is inflicting upon ordinary Americans.” – John Angelos.
Fast-forward to 2015, when the riots stemming from public outrage over Freddie Gray’s murder in police custody disrupted the Baltimore Orioles’ season. On April 19, just a week after the 25-year-old was arrested for possession of an illegal switchblade, Gray died of spinal injuries inflicted while in police custody. Of course, the following protests were not just indicative of public concern regarding racism and police brutality in Baltimore; a series of young, African-American men’s deaths at the hands of police officers had come between the country. While marchers threatening violence congregated outside Camden Yards on April 25, fans were advised not the leave the Orioles’ ballpark. On April 27, MLB Commissioner Rob Manfred opted to postpone the Orioles’ series against the White Sox, apprehensive about possible security threats to the fans, players, and everyone else involved in the game. That game was ultimately the first MLB game played in an empty stadium.
On one hand, the Orioles’ disappointing performance was attributed to its discouraged fans. Shortly after 2015’s July All-Star break, the Baltimore Sun ran “Why Not?” as a discussion on whether the Orioles could bring much-needed spirit and a sense of community back to Baltimore. The piece addresses the power of fans’ love for their team: “The power of baseball fans to influence the outcome of contests is not something to be taken lightly.” Moreover, it addresses the power of a team’s influence on it’s city’s reputation: “The death of Freddie Gray, the protests, the rioting and unrest, have redefined this city for much of the nation. To many we are not defending American League East champions, we are defending for our lives.” In conjunction, these two capacities enabled fans with a way in which to give back to their city. To refer back to a previous quote by Voelker, the energy and sentiments at the “One Baltimore” game provided fans, divided by economic disparity and united by their love of their team, with a platform to advocate for a new and improved Baltimore.
“Baseball is part of the American way of life. Remove it and you remove something from the lives of American citizens, soldiers, and sailors.” – Private John E. Stevenson.
Case-in-point, baseball claims a legacy of political sensitivity. Not only has the MLB formally adjusted its season to accommodate individual cities and the nation in times of crisis and controversy, but it has assumed responsibilities traditionally assigned to the federal government. In 2008, with the support of Major League Baseball Charities and the Robert R. McCormick Foundation, the New York Mets launched its Welcome Back Veterans (WBV) initiative, tasked with providing veterans with quality medical care as they transitioned back from military to civilian life. Likewise, the Mets have implemented Military Mondays both to honor servicemen (and women) and provide veterans with discounted tickets. The majority of other MLB clubs have since enacted similar programs, offering current military personnel and returning veterans discounted tickets. These initiatives symbolize the relationship between baseball and American society, as the game often opens the door for those who have served the United States back into a world of family, community, employment, and America’s pastime.
“[Don Newcombe]’ll never know what you and Jackie [Robinson] and Roy [Campanella] did to make it possible to do my job.” – Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Moreover, baseball has assumed a tradition of social progressiveness. African-Americans, immigrants, and women (in alphabetical order) have often found equality in the sport before they have in society.
“The way I figured it, I was even with baseball and baseball with me. The game had done much for me, and I have done much for it.” – Jackie Robinson.
When Jackie Robinson made his MLB debut with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947, he became a leading figure in the Civil Rights movement. The Negro League in which he had previously played lacked full opportunity for players of all skin colors, consequently reinforcing a doctrine of “separate but equal.” Ergo, Robinson’s entry into the majors served as a proxy – and even as a cause – for desegregation. Baseball was integrated before the American military, and 17 years in advance of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Jackson writes, “Robinson was a catalyst, and he expedited the speed at which things were moving within the Jim Crow era. Integration began on a baseball field and carried over into society.” Granted, it was the associational myth of baseball as a team sport that made the league’s racial integration the powerful cultural event that it became. Although neither the integration of baseball nor the national struggle for civil rights came easily or without animosity (to say the least), both came and the public benefitted from them.
While baseball may have inspired desegregation in other facets of American life, continued integration in the MLB is not without its struggles. Since the 1970s, when the concentration of African-American players in the MLB peaked at 27%, the number of African-American ballplayers has dwindled; in 2014, African-Americans constituted merely 8% of the league. This has been the result of a number of problems, though; a lack of institutional resources available to young African-Americans in urban areas has meant no diamonds on or equipment with which to play. Basketball and football, sports which rely upon sheer athleticism, rather than skills finessed at a young age, have assumed a greater number of African-American players; the National Basketball Association (NBA) boasts a 74% African-American concentration, and the National Football League (NFL) 68%. Former MLB executive Jimmie Lee Solomon writes, in “Percentage of Major League African-American Players Has Fallen Drastically,” that a lack of National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) scholarship opportunities available to baseball players may be the cause for the increasing competition. Whereas D1 baseball programs normally offer 11.7 scholarships, few of which are full rides, 85 full scholarships are available to D1 football programs. The consequence of a growing African-American minority in the MLB is increased scrutiny that effectively limits players from standing up against racism. On why MLB players did not join Colin Kaepernick’s protest during the 2016’s concurrent MLB and NFL seasons, Victoria Massie quotes Baltimore Orioles’ outfielder Adam Jones saying, “Baseball is a white man’s sport.” Whereas NFL players have the power to protest racism on the grounds that they’re collectively indispensable, a meager 8% minority is easily substituted with popular Latin American recruits. Until this issue is resolved, there are doubts that the MLB will facilitate interracial dialogues.
“If soccer is the world’s game, then baseball belongs to those who have left their worlds behind.” – Colum McCann.
Immigrant populations have most benefited from their stronghold on the MLB. Back in the 1940s, when Robinson broke the color barriers, the MLB was less than 5% foreign-born, with such players mainly Canadian transplants. By 2016, this percentage had risen to 26%. In 2015, the Texas Rangers led the league with the most foreign-born players of any club for the second consecutive year; their roster featured 15 players from more than eight countries. The leading countries of origin for players on 2016 Opening Day rosters included the Dominican Republic (82 players), Venezuela (63), Cuba (28), Mexico (12), Japan (8), and so forth. The 2016 World Series between the Chicago Cubs and Cleveland Indians featured players from over 13 countries.
The majors have provided many foreign-born players with a means of accessing the American dream, and native-born fans a means of transcending xenophobia. In the Dominican Republic, where four in 10 Dominicans live in poverty, baseball is seen as a ticket to a living wage. In “Why Baseball Matters – Still,” written by Talmage Boston and William McKenzie, the authors offer two case studies on storied MLB players’ stories of exodus to the United States. Yasiel Puig, Los Angeles outfielder and 2014 All-Star’s “harrowing story of escape from Cuba includes being raced to Mexico on a cigarette boat, being held hostage in a Mexico motel at the mercy of human smugglers, and eventually winding up a Dodger in June, 2012.” Similarly, Washington Nationals catcher Wilson Ramos ultimately decided to apply for a green card in 2011, after being kidnapping while visiting his mother in Venezuela, the country he had escaped via his athletic aptitude. Boston and McKenzie write, “When players like Puig and Ramos take to the field in a major league ballpark, they personify the human search for freedom and the opportunity to maximize one’s potential.”
However, still commonplace are complaints about immigrants “taking jobs” from Americans. The MLB is a pertinent counter-example. Stuart Anderson, in “Immigrants Make It A World Series,” explains that in the regular economy, there is no such thing as a “fixed” number of jobs; contrarily, only 750 jobs exist in major league baseball, in which a maximum of 25 players are allowed on the active rosters of 30 teams (until September 1, when most rosters expand to 40 men). However, “The increase in foreign-born baseball players has not harmed the salaries of native-born players.” Between 1990 and 2016, the proportion of the former beyond doubled from 10% to 26%, and the average major league salary increased over seven-fold in nominal dollars. Players have earned these paychecks, as they have had to constantly increase their quality of play to earn these competitive wages. In an industry – on a diamond – where pay is merit-driven, Americans should both appreciate and mimic MLB players’ lack of complaints.
It is worth noting that baseball has enabled America with a channel for improving its international diplomatic relationships. In May, 1958, Richard Nixon, then serving as Dwight Eisenhower’s vice president, asked the State Department to deploy big league players to Venezuela on a goodwill mission after his motorcade was attacked in the Latin American nation. A former US ambassador to Venezuela later remarked, “The tour did more to clear the atmosphere than a dozen top-echelon conferences.” As a global enterprise, baseball has funneled economic investments into the Caribbean and Latin America. In recent years, major league clubs have built and staffed baseball academies in such countries where baseball is a popular sport. Recruits who are trained at these academies do not have to go through the MLF draft, thus saving teams’ money on players’ initial contracts and development. Likewise, Matthew Rocco reports, “The MLB says WBC [World Baseball Classic] revenue is reinvested into national baseball federations, which fund player development programs in the competing countries,” many of which include developing nations. By the same token, this international event has served as a fact-finding mission for MLB, allowing the league to learn more about fans and sports culture overseas. It has allowed the MLB to look beyond its traditional recruiting strongholds in Latin America and southeast Asia. Additionally, cultural relativism and diffusion have been fundamental assets of the WBC. Rocco quotes Chris Park, the MLB’s senior vice president of growth, strategy, and international, saying, “It helps us understand what is means to be a part of culture in various places.”
“It is incredible how far women have come and women in sports have come.” – Jennie Finch.
Less clear, however, have been the advantages of baseball, in conjunction with softball, in advancing the movement for gender equality in the United States. Kelly Burke, a former varsity softball player at Plano West Senior High School, expresses that she feels more respected for playing the sport’s female counterpart, “I’ve been told that guys respect people who play softball because it’s just an overall sport to play. So yes, I feel like I’m on the same level as men when it comes to sports like baseball.” On the other hand, a two-time member of the D3 National Championship-winning Tufts University softball team, who has requested to remain anonymous, writes, “I think that because of playing softball, I care about and understand baseball and the strategies or rules of the game more, but I think it will still be a long way before things like the MLB are accessible to women.” Nonetheless, Chelsea Leigh Horne, author of “Women’s Softball Needs the Olympics,” writes, “[Softball has] evolved into a symbol for women’s progress, for the rights of female athletes to be treated on their own terms, and to reach the heights that men have enjoyed from so long.” Horne expresses her support of softball as being its own sport, undefined by its counterpart male sport, unlike “women’s basketball.” “Softball is its own sport, with its own rules, its own history, and its own international commission in the World Baseball Softball Confederation.” Still, the Tufts softball player feels that the differentiation between baseball and softball limits women’s access to the former, since the possibility of a co-ed team is off the table. Both Horne and the player agree, though, that the unanimous vote of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) to reinstate baseball and softball as Olympic sports in the Tokyo 2020 Summer Games is a step in the right direction. The prestige and global scale of the Olympics is predicted to narrow the gender gap between men’s and women’s athletics. Since the IOC agreed to only add sports in which both men and female compete, consequently pairing baseball and softball together as one sport, its proposal further advances the notion that one is just a female version of the other. However, softball’s Olympic future beyond 2020 is dependent upon the MLB’s successful negotiations with the IOC (which hopes that the US will suspend the MLB season during Olympic gameplay), leaving women still dependent upon men.
“If baseball was exclusive, you’d miss out on a lot of the great plays.” – Robert Giovannetti.
The MLB’s explicit diversity, extending to African-Americans, immigrants, and even women, though, is an indication of why it has the most diverse fan base of any professional sport. Coach Stone expresses, “Baseball, because of its diversity, mimics the makeup of America… I think because of the diversity of the players in the MLB that most Americans can identify with the sport more easily than others.” Hence, it is often a player’s performance that takes priority on the field. Giovannetti explains, “It’s a universal sport… A scout doesn’t care about the color of a guy’s skin or his religion, he just wants to know if a player can perform on the field.” Wayland echoed this sentiment, speaking about baseball as a refuge from discrimination.
“So, yes, baseball is a game and an athletic contest, but it also has provided a snapshot into the forces at play in a market economy.” – Talmage Boston and William McKenzie.
As baseball is a game dependent upon a player’s individual performance, a parallel between the sport and the American economy may be drawn. Noel Sheppard writes of baseball as being an economic model of equal opportunity. The game is built upon standards of fairness and opportunity. Sheppard cites three examples: revenue sharing in the MLB means that lower-revenue teams get a bigger chunk of the shared funds; the last pick of the MLB draft always goes to the winner of the World Series; the MLB lacks a salary cap, encouraging players to constantly improve upon their play. Additionally, like America’s market economy, baseball is driven by competition. As previously quoted, Anderson explains that MLB salaries were merit-driven. For this reason, veteran players like Curt Flood fought for their rights to free agency. Boston and McKenzie write of this as mimicking employees’ evolution into individualized units of production during the Technology Revolution: “Like baseball’s free agents signing with three of four franchises during their careers, employees found themselves on paths to multiple jobs during their working years. No longer would they be tethered to a single employer for a lifetime.” The free agency of both employees and players leads to a rapid escalation in salaries, as they utilized the marketplace to get a better deal: “Regardless of their size, modern ballplayers’ salaries are a product of supply-and-demand, the ultimate market principle.” Increased technology has made both the factory and the field more sophisticated. New data and performance measurements that drive decisions on the mound and at the plate are no different than those that influence decisions in finance and medicine. Coaches have historically innovated and become their own dynamic market forces: Casey Stengel had the platoon system of creating lineups; Connie Mack started coaching pitchers to take advantage of hitters’ weaknesses; and Gene Mauch advised his pitchers to vary their deliver. Hence, baseball executives and players have utilized the marketplace to enhance their games, bestowing the States with a poignant mirror to the American economy.
“There’s something inherently American about it, no one can keep you from succeeded. It’s an American icon, you can succeed individually, but your team may not succeed. Like in business, all pieces have to be working together.” – Robert Giovannetti.
Just as baseball has epitomized the American economy, it has exemplified American democracy. If anything, it could surely teach citizens a lesson about democracy. Baseball is an education in the common goal: success is a futile effort if a team, like the American people, is not working towards a singular purpose. Jeff Blackwell, an assistant baseball coach at Prestonwood Christian Academy, a competitor in Texas’ TAPPS district 1-1, and longtime baseball commissioner for a local non-profit sports league, explains, “Regardless how good you are, if you are not surrounded by talented teammates working towards the same goal, you will fail. Knowing others have your back, and in turn, you have theirs, builds a spirit of Esprit de Corps. Fighting for the same goal. Winning together and losing together.” Equally important is the concept of sacrifice. To quote Giovannetti, “Granted, you might sacrifice to get another teammate on around the bases. But in the NFL, like the offensive lineman, they’re just toiling in anonymity. Sacrifice is an American thing, you have to sacrifice for the greater good.” Putting ourselves at a disadvantage is hard to swallow, however, it is often necessary to give our fellow man the advantage. That’s American.
“Baseball suits the character of this democratic nation… It’s a game you can’t like if winning is everything. And democracy is that way, too.” – George Will.
The structure of the game itself reinforces the democratic principles upon which Americans pride themselves. Andy Frye, a writer for the Chicago Tribute, writes of baseball as embodying specifically American principles: all are created equal, everyone gets a turn, free speech reigns, freedom of assembly, and international roots. In “Baseball, Politics, and America,” Janet M. Neal substitutes athletics with politics to emphasize the parallels. Just as the most successful players take the times to understand and abide by the simple, nuanced rules of the game, the most successful candidates take the times to understand and abide by the simple, nuanced rules of campaigning. In order to make it to the majors, or to the Oval Office, you must practice, be good at your craft, and cultivate the independent skills to operate in clutch situations. Although each side, separated by either base or party lines, has its own pride, culture, and stand-outs, success demands a positive attitude, eye on the prize, and an “unshakeable belief in the team’s ability to overcome the odds.” Even though both fans and voters can be aligned with one side, they can appreciate when a member of the opposing team performs, goes above and beyond, or is an asset to their team. Finally, everything that is done is with the best interest of the sport, or of America, in mind.
The wave, a ballpark favorite, a lesson in democracy’s majority rule. Jesse Spector personifies the wave as one of the greatest expressions of democracy and free in society, nevertheless a distinctly American one, in “Embrace the Wave at Baseball Games.” The wave begins in the marketplace of ideas, but, “One person alone cannot start the wave. There must be organizing done.” Even once it has begun, there is no guarantee that it will continue – it must prove popular enough to spread beyond multiple sections of a crowd. “A successful wave must continue throughout the entire stadium, winning over a majority – a supermajority, really – of the stadium populace.” To see something exceed, it must rally the support of a majority of participants.
Finally, baseball is a testament to Americans’ power to make positive change. Boston and McKenzie write, “Through these stories [wonderful stories told by ballplayers themselves, many colorful, many humorous], we learn how ordinary individuals find ways to perform extraordinary feats.” One of the game’s greatest players, Willie Mays, stood at only 5’10’ and weighed 170 pounds. Personally, this echoes the victories of the undersupplied, unexperienced Patriots who beat the odds in the Revolutionary War.
“You could be a kid for as long as you want when you play baseball.” – Cal Ripken, Jr.
Although baseball holds a mirror to America’s crowning feature, democracy, it also provides the public with an escape from politics. Referring back to Wayland’s insights, baseball is not a game in which political alignments matter; it returns fans and players alike to a time that preceded meaningless divisions. Controversial, however fair, is David Harsanyi’s take on baseball’s crowning feature: “Baseball players already provide a wonderful example of American civility. They do this by not incessantly talking about politics. Baseball is a distraction from politics.” He conjectures, “Baseball won’t alter politics, but politics will ruin baseball.”
Moreover, baseball furnishes America with a meditational capacity. Blackwell writes, “Regardless of what is going on in your life, spending an afternoon at a baseball game is always refreshing… It’s soothing for one’s soul.” Wayland writes, “It is a nice escape from everything that goes on in someone’s life. When you’re out on the field, you just get to focus on baseball and play a kid’s game.” In January 15, 1942, FDR penned the famous “Green Light Letter” to then-MLB Commissioner Kenesaw Landis. Despite the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor the previous month, and America’s entry into World War II, he requested that the MLB not postpone the 1942 season. Boston and McKenzie explain, “He knew that families worried about their young soldiers at war could alleviate their stress and draw at least some pleasure from taking trips to the ballpark or simply gathering around the radio to hear a broadcast.” 73 years later, the author of “Why Not?” recommended that Baltimore locals preoccupy themselves with the Orioles’ 2015 season, rather than the city’s civic unrest.
“Baseball’s time is seamless and invisible, a bubble within which players move at exactly the same pace and rhythms as all their predecessors.” – Roger Angell.
This is facilitated both by the deliberate pace of the game and the daily constant of the MLB’s season. There’s a certain stability to the game. Berkow quotes Roger Angell, a writer for the New Yorker, “Within a ballpark, time moves differently, marked by no clock except the events of the game. This is the unique, unchangeable feature of baseball and perhaps explains why this sport… remains somehow rustic, un-violent, and introspective.” Giovannetti agrees, “There’s a steady rhythm to it, and that’s calming. This is also why some people don’t like baseball, but there’s a comforting pace.” Baseball is a lesson in stillness, rational thought, and the head before the heart. Perhaps Americans should first think strategically, before responding emotionally. That might be a key to a more cohesive, unified public.
Baseball’s daily gameplay renders the MLB season an unconditional companion to those who follow the sport. Seymour Siwoff, president of Elias Sports Bureau, the sports statistics company, says to Berkow, “Baseball in the summer is like a journey, it’s played everyday… We follow it. There’s be a great void without it.” This holds true for baseball more so than any other major league sport. The MLB 2017 regular season will last from April 2, to October 1, with a possible game seven of the World Series scheduled for November 1. 162 games will be played by each of the 30 clubs in the league, generally daily. Compare this to the NBA: professional basketball’s season, which includes 30 teams each playing 82 games, lasts from October to April, with the finals being played in June. The NFL’s regular season stretches from the weekend after Labor Day to late January/early February, but although each of the league’s 32 teams will play 16 games in 17 weeks, plays are often separated by five to seven days. Baseball, on the other hand, benefits from being played on a daily basis for more than half of the calendar year. To quote Boston and McKenzie, “The sport is part of the American rhythm.”
“I think that it’s a great opportunity for us… to show we are united, regardless of the turmoil and things going on here and other places in the world. So for this moment in time, we’re going to put on this jersey with pride and show we’re diverse, we’re united, and what the USA is really all about.” – Chris Archer.
Even though the United States is not always in unanimous agreement, it is always unanimously proud. Our national pastime, and the teams around which we rally, are something of which to be especially proud. To the American public, baseball is more than just a game – it is a lifestyle. This MLB season is a lesson in what we, as Americans, hold dear: democracy, equality, individual liberty, and unity. If we want to want to succeed – together – this year, we should take this season in stride. To quote the great Terence Mann, of Field of Dreams: “This field, this game: it’s a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good and could be again. Oh… people will come, Ray. People will most definitely come.”