California Prologue
No matter how many times I visit California I always have the same reaction: I’m not in a different state; I’m not even a different country; I’m on a different planet! California is totally alien to me and I am a complete alien when there. It is not a place where I would choose to live, being the inveterate New Yorker that I am. There’s something about the mountains running into the sea, the light refracted differently, the air smelling different --- and the people ---who are unfailingly nice. That said, it is always a fascinating place to visit.
The topography, the climate, the culture, the people --- there is nothing that even begins to enter the realm of the familiar for me. So, May 16-27, 12 days, in California was an incredible adventure for us. There will be separate sections following this introduction: Part One: Baseball Odyssey; Part Two: Friends; Part Three: Food; and Part Four: California Observations. This prologue is “The Big Picture” of our trip. The itinerary was carefully planned and proceeded as follows.
Monday, May 16th. We flew from JFK to San Diego, where we rented a car, checked into the Wyndham Harbour Lights, and drove north to Los Angeles to have dinner with DeMille and Monique at Mohawk Bend in Echo Park. We then proceeded to Dodger Stadium to see the Angels play the home team. I had always wanted to see Dodger Stadium and, luckily for me, I’m married to an equally devout baseball fan. Driving back to San Diego was a challenge, since we had been up at 4 a.m. East Coast time and it was after 11 pm, Pacific time. Luckily, about 50 minutes north of San Diego was a rest stop that had vending machines with Diet Coke and Cool Ranch Doritos!
Tuesday, May 17th. My best friend from high school, Gil Schaeffer, and his wife, Becca (a genuine California native), drove down from Oceanside and showed us San Diego --- Coronado, Balboa Park, the neighborhoods of San Diego --- a great day.
Wednesday, May 18th: Gil joined us for brunch at Big Maple and then a trip to the San Diego Zoo. After some recovery time, we went to PetCo Park and watched the Giants beat the Padres.
Thursday, May 19th: My 67th birthday. We drove to LaJolla and spent time in Pacific Beach before heading back to the hotel, exploring the Gaslamp District and then packing and preparing for several days on the road, something we both love.
Friday, May 20th. We set out on “the 5," shifted to the 101, and, finally, the Pacific Coast Highway. A lunch stop in Santa Monica at Patrick’s Roadhouse ended with a dented quarter panel in their postage-stamp parking lot but that didn’t prevent us from driving north until we reached the Oxford Suites Pismo Beach, our destination for the evening. The highlight of the evening was watching my niece, Emily, WIN on Wheel of Fortune ($26,000+, including a trip to Aruba!) and checking out Pismo Beach’s dining district.
Saturday, May 21st. We set out early to make our 9:20 Tour at Hearst Castle, arriving early enough to make the 9:00 Tour. Conspicuous consumption at its utmost, we were a bit taken aback but glad we saw it. From there we headed north on Route One, briefly stopping at Seal Point (where we saw 100s of Elephant seals sunbathing and sleeping). The next few hours are rather indescribable. Neither of us loves heights (understatement) so the ride on the curvy, switch backed Route One roads was, at once, an exhilarating and frightening journey. I’m not sure how high the cliffs climb but the two-lane, no guardrail stretches of the road are white knuckle inducing. At the same time, it was incredible to see this amazing landscape, cross the Bixby Bridge (1931) and drive through Big Sur before reaching Monterey and the quaintly named Stage Coach Lodge.
Sunday, May 22nd. We struck out for Oakland in the a.m., stopping at the Country Kitchen (nexus of CA 156 & the 101) for breakfast. We got to O.co Coliseum (formerly the Oakland-Alameda Coliseum) by noon, meeting our friends Bill and Stori. Bill had wrangled 2nd row seats behind the A’s dugout for the Yankee game and, needless to say, we were happy campers. After the game we proceeded north to Fairfax and met Badger (the three legged rescue dog) and the cats & tortoises, and spent a beautiful night in the shadow of Mt. Tamalpais.
Monday, May 23rd. After breakfast in Fairfax, we headed further north, to Sebastopol to visit our old colleague Joel Kammer and his wife, Linda (a fantastic artist!). We explored Bodega Bay (the schoolhouse where “The Birds” was shot) and the Church of St. Teresa of Avila (an Anselm Adams subject) as well as the quaint town of Sebastopol.
Tuesday, May 24th. We finally headed for San Francisco, arriving there, after crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, by about 11:30 a.m. After checking into the Wyndham Canterbury on Sutter Street, we returned the rental (with some paperwork due to the ding in the left quarter panel) and explored the neighborhood to get the appropriate SF Giants gear for our evening at AT&T Park, where the Giants again beat the Padres, completing our baseball odyssey.
Wednesday, May 25th. This was a San Francisco Day focused on sightseeing and food. We shipped a box of clothes and gifts from the UPS office down the street. Then, after lunching with friends, Freda (Brown M.A.T.) & Shay at Chow (more on both later), we took the trolley to Fisherman’s Wharf and did sightseeing and gift buying. That evening we went to Al’s Place (a hot new restaurant I had read about) before meeting Kyle & Aimee to complete the first phase of our mini-reunion with my former Brown teacher education students.
Thursday, May 26th. Our last full day in San Francisco. We took the trolley to the Ferry Building to meet Joel and Linda. They ferried over from Sonoma County. We then headed to a dim sum lunch at Yank Sing in the old Rincon Postal Building before walking to the newly (re)opened San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (which was spectacular). After Linda & Joel caught their return ferry we checked out the Ferry Building’s numerous shops and stalls before heading back to the hotel to get ready for Phase 2 of the Brown mini-reunion at Rosamunde Sausage Grill at 7 p.m. That was a great affair, with 5 of my former students giving us a great send off from the West Coast.
Friday, May 27th. After a breakfast at Lori’s Diner, we did our final packing and checked out by 10 a.m., leaving our bags until the Super Shuttle arrived at 12:30. We headed down to Union Square to wile away the time on what was the warmest, sunniest day of our whole trip. We caught the 12:30 Super Shuttle and got to SFO by 1 pm or so. We checked into JetBlue painlessly, allowing us plenty of time for an airport lunch and charging stations before boarding our 4:20 p.m. (crazy) flight back to JFK, arriving at 1:15 a.m. Eastern time. Our ride home got us to Norwalk’s Dunkin Donuts by 3 a.m. for fresh out-of-the-oven bagels & doughnuts. We finally got to sleep around 4 a.m. --- home at last.
The topography, the climate, the culture, the people --- there is nothing that even begins to enter the realm of the familiar for me. So, May 16-27, 12 days, in California was an incredible adventure for us. There will be separate sections following this introduction: Part One: Baseball Odyssey; Part Two: Friends; Part Three: Food; and Part Four: California Observations. This prologue is “The Big Picture” of our trip. The itinerary was carefully planned and proceeded as follows.
Monday, May 16th. We flew from JFK to San Diego, where we rented a car, checked into the Wyndham Harbour Lights, and drove north to Los Angeles to have dinner with DeMille and Monique at Mohawk Bend in Echo Park. We then proceeded to Dodger Stadium to see the Angels play the home team. I had always wanted to see Dodger Stadium and, luckily for me, I’m married to an equally devout baseball fan. Driving back to San Diego was a challenge, since we had been up at 4 a.m. East Coast time and it was after 11 pm, Pacific time. Luckily, about 50 minutes north of San Diego was a rest stop that had vending machines with Diet Coke and Cool Ranch Doritos!
Tuesday, May 17th. My best friend from high school, Gil Schaeffer, and his wife, Becca (a genuine California native), drove down from Oceanside and showed us San Diego --- Coronado, Balboa Park, the neighborhoods of San Diego --- a great day.
Wednesday, May 18th: Gil joined us for brunch at Big Maple and then a trip to the San Diego Zoo. After some recovery time, we went to PetCo Park and watched the Giants beat the Padres.
Thursday, May 19th: My 67th birthday. We drove to LaJolla and spent time in Pacific Beach before heading back to the hotel, exploring the Gaslamp District and then packing and preparing for several days on the road, something we both love.
Friday, May 20th. We set out on “the 5," shifted to the 101, and, finally, the Pacific Coast Highway. A lunch stop in Santa Monica at Patrick’s Roadhouse ended with a dented quarter panel in their postage-stamp parking lot but that didn’t prevent us from driving north until we reached the Oxford Suites Pismo Beach, our destination for the evening. The highlight of the evening was watching my niece, Emily, WIN on Wheel of Fortune ($26,000+, including a trip to Aruba!) and checking out Pismo Beach’s dining district.
Saturday, May 21st. We set out early to make our 9:20 Tour at Hearst Castle, arriving early enough to make the 9:00 Tour. Conspicuous consumption at its utmost, we were a bit taken aback but glad we saw it. From there we headed north on Route One, briefly stopping at Seal Point (where we saw 100s of Elephant seals sunbathing and sleeping). The next few hours are rather indescribable. Neither of us loves heights (understatement) so the ride on the curvy, switch backed Route One roads was, at once, an exhilarating and frightening journey. I’m not sure how high the cliffs climb but the two-lane, no guardrail stretches of the road are white knuckle inducing. At the same time, it was incredible to see this amazing landscape, cross the Bixby Bridge (1931) and drive through Big Sur before reaching Monterey and the quaintly named Stage Coach Lodge.
Sunday, May 22nd. We struck out for Oakland in the a.m., stopping at the Country Kitchen (nexus of CA 156 & the 101) for breakfast. We got to O.co Coliseum (formerly the Oakland-Alameda Coliseum) by noon, meeting our friends Bill and Stori. Bill had wrangled 2nd row seats behind the A’s dugout for the Yankee game and, needless to say, we were happy campers. After the game we proceeded north to Fairfax and met Badger (the three legged rescue dog) and the cats & tortoises, and spent a beautiful night in the shadow of Mt. Tamalpais.
Monday, May 23rd. After breakfast in Fairfax, we headed further north, to Sebastopol to visit our old colleague Joel Kammer and his wife, Linda (a fantastic artist!). We explored Bodega Bay (the schoolhouse where “The Birds” was shot) and the Church of St. Teresa of Avila (an Anselm Adams subject) as well as the quaint town of Sebastopol.
Tuesday, May 24th. We finally headed for San Francisco, arriving there, after crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, by about 11:30 a.m. After checking into the Wyndham Canterbury on Sutter Street, we returned the rental (with some paperwork due to the ding in the left quarter panel) and explored the neighborhood to get the appropriate SF Giants gear for our evening at AT&T Park, where the Giants again beat the Padres, completing our baseball odyssey.
Wednesday, May 25th. This was a San Francisco Day focused on sightseeing and food. We shipped a box of clothes and gifts from the UPS office down the street. Then, after lunching with friends, Freda (Brown M.A.T.) & Shay at Chow (more on both later), we took the trolley to Fisherman’s Wharf and did sightseeing and gift buying. That evening we went to Al’s Place (a hot new restaurant I had read about) before meeting Kyle & Aimee to complete the first phase of our mini-reunion with my former Brown teacher education students.
Thursday, May 26th. Our last full day in San Francisco. We took the trolley to the Ferry Building to meet Joel and Linda. They ferried over from Sonoma County. We then headed to a dim sum lunch at Yank Sing in the old Rincon Postal Building before walking to the newly (re)opened San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (which was spectacular). After Linda & Joel caught their return ferry we checked out the Ferry Building’s numerous shops and stalls before heading back to the hotel to get ready for Phase 2 of the Brown mini-reunion at Rosamunde Sausage Grill at 7 p.m. That was a great affair, with 5 of my former students giving us a great send off from the West Coast.
Friday, May 27th. After a breakfast at Lori’s Diner, we did our final packing and checked out by 10 a.m., leaving our bags until the Super Shuttle arrived at 12:30. We headed down to Union Square to wile away the time on what was the warmest, sunniest day of our whole trip. We caught the 12:30 Super Shuttle and got to SFO by 1 pm or so. We checked into JetBlue painlessly, allowing us plenty of time for an airport lunch and charging stations before boarding our 4:20 p.m. (crazy) flight back to JFK, arriving at 1:15 a.m. Eastern time. Our ride home got us to Norwalk’s Dunkin Donuts by 3 a.m. for fresh out-of-the-oven bagels & doughnuts. We finally got to sleep around 4 a.m. --- home at last.
PART ONE: Our Baseball Odyssey
As I’ve mentioned, I am incredibly fortunate because the Lovely Carol Marie is not only a baseball fan but a knowledgeable baseball fan. So, it is fun for us to go to baseball games --- whether it is the New York Yankees or the Staten Island Yankees, the Bridgeport Bluefish or the Boston Red Sox. Our West Coast itinerary was designed around the National and American League schedules for May, 2016. So, we were able to fly to San Diego, catch a Dodgers-Angels game in L.A. (we had no interest in seeing the Big A in Anaheim), then see games at Petco, O.co, and AT&T Park. But our trip actually started on May 14th, before we ever left the New York metropolitan area.
Before attending the NY wedding reception for our friends & colleagues, Rebekah and Eric (they had one reception in Miami in February, when they were married), we joined Eric and some of his and Rebekah's family members at the Big Ball Park in the Bronx on Saturday, May 14th, to watch the Yankees play the White Sox. And so, our Baseball Odyssey began. (photo is me at age 4 or 5, on the front lawn of my paternal grandmother's house in Bethpage, on Long Island -- 1953 or 1954)
Yankee Stadium - Bronx, NY
Saturday, May 14, 2016
The Yanks beat the White sox and we had a great time! Here are a couple of photos with Eric --- and a couple of shots from out seats in the upper deck.
Yankee Stadium IS our "home" ball park and a place full of memories (my first game there was the old, old Stadium back in August, 1961 -- Yanks vs. (then) Los Angeles Angels.) We love going there with friends and family and it was a perfect way to prime us for the trip West. 
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Dodger Stadium - Los Angeles
Monday, May 16, 2016
What was striking to us, once we reached our seats, was the noise generated by the crowd (around 35,000). Carol Marie observed that it probably sounded louder because the Stadium was so isolated, unlike Yankee Stadium, where elevated subways, street traffic, and "the city" surround the ball park.
Indeed, Dodger Stadium sits like an alien spacecraft that has landed in this glade surrounded by palm trees and "protected" by a moat of HUGE parking lots! There is no ambient sound beyond the confines of the stadium walls. We watched about four innings of the game (seeing Mike Trout hit a long double to left-center) and then decided we needed to head back to San Diego, since we had been up since 4 a.m. East Coast time and it was now approaching 10:30 pm Pacific Standard. We strolled out and took in the interesting baseball "sculptures" that highlight the Dodger Stadium grounds. |
We arrived in the third inning of a Dodger-Angel game and were surprised at how many other people were also just arriving. I was informed later, that's what people do so as to avoid the really bad traffic around 7 pm, when the game starts. We entered the upper tier in left field and had to walk all the way round to right field to our seats. 
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We thought it interesting that Sandy Koufax (and several other pitchers) was represented by a ball, rather than a statue, and that a Bob's Big Boy likeness seemed to be the Dodger Stadium "Greeter."
The Rawlings Gold Glove (with small plaques noting all the Dodger winners) was pretty impressive, if odd.
In all, I'm glad we went and saw the place. It somehow completed a different Odyssey that started for me years and years ago, before you could print your game tickets at home, when the entrance to a ball park was the journey down a dark tunnel, culminating in dazzling sunlight and a green expanse of lawn you could smell and whose size overwhelmed your 8 year-old's conception of space. The Dodgers had been my parents' home team and a mythological group of players named Lavagetto and Camilli. And even though my one brief experience allowed me to see Campanella and Hodges and Snider and Pee Wee Reese (playing third base), it was a fleeting moment. The memory of those blue trimmed white/white uniforms against the quaint angles of Ebbetts Field created a lifelong memory. As I grew older I understood they left Brooklyn because there was more money to be made in L.A. and the advent of air travel made professional sports a bi-coastal enterprise. But I needed to see what made Walter O'Malley move those beloved "Bums" a continent away.
The weather's better (no rainouts), the Stadium is far bigger (though highly impersonal) and the Dodgers have now lived there longer than they lived in Brooklyn! No one in Los Angeles seems to know (or care) that their team's name was derived from the original "Brooklyn Trolley Dodgers" (the same way their basketball "Lakers" live in a desert after moving from Minneapolis). They are a singular institution and have won 5 times as many World Series in L.A. as they did in Brooklyn. For me, though, there will always be a little Brooklyn in the Dodgers, if only in my memory, so I'm glad I got to see where they live now. Their move away led to my becoming a diehard Yankee fan (something I'm more than happy to be) --- but I'll never forget that the Dodgers, these Dodgers, were once at home in our beloved Brooklyn.
(tickets, below, from the very first game I ever attended --- and the only game I ever went to at Ebbets Field in Flatbush)
The Rawlings Gold Glove (with small plaques noting all the Dodger winners) was pretty impressive, if odd.
In all, I'm glad we went and saw the place. It somehow completed a different Odyssey that started for me years and years ago, before you could print your game tickets at home, when the entrance to a ball park was the journey down a dark tunnel, culminating in dazzling sunlight and a green expanse of lawn you could smell and whose size overwhelmed your 8 year-old's conception of space. The Dodgers had been my parents' home team and a mythological group of players named Lavagetto and Camilli. And even though my one brief experience allowed me to see Campanella and Hodges and Snider and Pee Wee Reese (playing third base), it was a fleeting moment. The memory of those blue trimmed white/white uniforms against the quaint angles of Ebbetts Field created a lifelong memory. As I grew older I understood they left Brooklyn because there was more money to be made in L.A. and the advent of air travel made professional sports a bi-coastal enterprise. But I needed to see what made Walter O'Malley move those beloved "Bums" a continent away.
The weather's better (no rainouts), the Stadium is far bigger (though highly impersonal) and the Dodgers have now lived there longer than they lived in Brooklyn! No one in Los Angeles seems to know (or care) that their team's name was derived from the original "Brooklyn Trolley Dodgers" (the same way their basketball "Lakers" live in a desert after moving from Minneapolis). They are a singular institution and have won 5 times as many World Series in L.A. as they did in Brooklyn. For me, though, there will always be a little Brooklyn in the Dodgers, if only in my memory, so I'm glad I got to see where they live now. Their move away led to my becoming a diehard Yankee fan (something I'm more than happy to be) --- but I'll never forget that the Dodgers, these Dodgers, were once at home in our beloved Brooklyn.
(tickets, below, from the very first game I ever attended --- and the only game I ever went to at Ebbets Field in Flatbush)
Petco Park - San Diego
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
I had been to Petco Park once before and found it to be one of the nicest "modern/retro" ball parks around, particularly because of the Western Metal Supply Co. building in left field.
What I learned on this trip was that the entire field --- and all its design --- was sighted by focusing on the corner of the building as the Left Field Foul Pole!
Nestled in downtown San Diego, we walked from our Gaslamp District hotel (the lovely Wyndham Harbour Lights Resort) to the stadium and enjoyed a great game.
Johnny Cueto of the Giants pitched a complete game 4-hitter, winning 4-1.
We attended with my best friend from high school, Gil Schaeffer, and had a wonderful time --- highlighted by great sausages from Phil's Bar-B-Q. Petco also has the clearest highest-definition scoreboard I have ever seen in any ballpark --- almost like watching in 3-D.
What I learned on this trip was that the entire field --- and all its design --- was sighted by focusing on the corner of the building as the Left Field Foul Pole!
Nestled in downtown San Diego, we walked from our Gaslamp District hotel (the lovely Wyndham Harbour Lights Resort) to the stadium and enjoyed a great game.
Johnny Cueto of the Giants pitched a complete game 4-hitter, winning 4-1.
We attended with my best friend from high school, Gil Schaeffer, and had a wonderful time --- highlighted by great sausages from Phil's Bar-B-Q. Petco also has the clearest highest-definition scoreboard I have ever seen in any ballpark --- almost like watching in 3-D.
It was a beautiful (May Gray) evening in San Diego and, despite the Padres lackluster start to the season, a good size crowd was there (though the number of San Francisco hats and shirts may have outnumbered the home team's).
Petco Park is a thoroughly enjoyable venue. It reflects its city to a tee, with a laid back environment, full of wonderful sights, sounds, and aromas --- much like San Diego itself. |
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O.co Coliseum - Oakland, CA
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Many of our friends over the years have also been devoted baseball fans but few are as committed to their team as Bill Meyer and Stori Oates in Oakland. As you can see from this photo, Bill and Stori were in full Athletics regalia to root their team home. Even better, Bill had gotten us seats in the second row behind the A's dugout!
In the panorama shot (below) the yellow roof of the A's dugout is right in front of Bill (far left) and Carol Marie (far right).
The fact that the game was against our home team Yankees made it all the more fun.
In the panorama shot (below) the yellow roof of the A's dugout is right in front of Bill (far left) and Carol Marie (far right).
The fact that the game was against our home team Yankees made it all the more fun.
We were sitting so close, in fact, that there was this sign warning us to watch out for flying objects! |
We also got to see Ron Washington (the former Texas Rangers manager) consulting with what we believed to be his business manager during the game.
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One of the "highlights" of the game (which the Yanks won, 4-3) was the race between the bizarre, big-headed mock ups of A's Hall-of-Famers Dennis Eckersley, Rickey Henderson, and Rollie Fingers. The video below says it all (and shows how close to the field we were!).
In all, it was a great day with great friends. Sunny, clear, temperate weather, a good, close ball game, and a perfect way to start the Bay Area portion of our West Coast trip and the northern part of our Baseball Odyssey.
While O.co is primarily a football stadium (the Raiders sell out the place in the Fall), it has accommodated the A's since the Charley Finley days (when it was the Oakland-Alameda County Coliseum) and it is certainly a serviceable site for baseball. It seems about time, though, for Oakland to provide its team and fans with a modern baseball-only park like the one across the Bay.
AT&T Park - San Francisco, CA
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
Having seen AT&T Park on television many times, I was very excited to see it first hand. It did not disappoint. It is a wonderful ball park nestled against the Bay.
The Lovely Carol Marie and I prepared for the game appropriately.
The Lovely Carol Marie and I prepared for the game appropriately.
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Here are the photos from our fabulous experience at AT&T Park.
The 2nd Street Entrance.
The walkway along the McCovey Cove. (pano)
The view from the right field corner.
Coke bottle and old-timer's glove in left field.
Levi's Landing in right field.
The gulls descend, post game.
The Lovely Carol Marie & final score.
The 2nd Street Entrance.
The walkway along the McCovey Cove. (pano)
The view from the right field corner.
Coke bottle and old-timer's glove in left field.
Levi's Landing in right field.
The gulls descend, post game.
The Lovely Carol Marie & final score.
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Something we witnessed in both Oakland and San Francisco was "the gathering of the gulls." Starting around the 6th inning, in Oakland and in San Francisco, sea gulls begin circling the ball park and even sitting along the roof of the top deck. As soon as the game ends, they descend upon the stands and field to feast on lawn and the fans' refuse.
A Final Note on Baseball
(This essay was written as part of a memoir that is "in process")
I always feel the need to explain to all those who believe baseball is a “boring” game, or that it “takes too long,” or who simply say “How can you watch/like that?” why they are missing the beauty of the sport. I won’t steal George Carlin’s brilliant monologue on the differences between baseball and football (though everyone should hear it: simply Google YouTube- “George Carlin on Baseball and Football” ) but I will focus on a point or two he makes. Most significantly, in baseball the DEFENSE has the ball and controls the game. Imagine if this happened in basketball or football. Of course,
it couldn’t! It’s a genuinely unique concept and part of what sets baseball apart and makes it a game where every pitch requires new strategy. More than that, THE most difficult athletic skill, bar none, is hitting a well-pitched baseball. To hit a round ball (moving at speeds up to 100 mph and spinning in a variety of ways --- or floating and then breaking in who-knows-what-direction, like a knuckleball) with a round bat SQUARELY is rare athletic gift. In what other sport – or occupation, for that matter – would you be considered at the top of your profession when you were only successful 3 out of 10 times? Yet a .300 hitter in baseball is seen as among the best in the game. Those who don’t understand this lovely subtlety are missing just some of the beauty of the game. (Think about Michael Jordan's baseball career if you want to consider how challenging the sport is.)
That baseball is also a game that does not discriminate as far as height, weight, fleetness afoot, etc. is another extraordinary element of the sport. Where football and basketball clearly prefer extreme endomorphs or ectomorphs and value almost inhuman strength, blazing speed and other worldly jumping ability--- almost as prerequisites---baseball has room for everybody. A 2015 photo of Dellin Betances, the 6’8’’ Yankee pitcher next to Houston’s (allegedly) 5’6” Jose Altuve at an ALL-STAR game displayed the wonderful democracy of baseball.
This speaks to another aspect of baseball that is extraordinary. While athletes have most certainly gotten bigger, faster, stronger as time has gone on, baseball fields and the records held on them have been incredibly consistent (let’s ignore the PED fueled ‘80’s and ‘90’s for the moment). By that I mean, no matter how much bigger, faster, stronger athletes have become --- if you hit the ball sharply to shortstop, you cannot run the 90 feet to first base safely. A .300 hitter is a .300 hitter and a pitcher with an Earned Run Average (ERA) below 3.00 are still the best in the game, just as they were in the 1920’s or ‘30’s and so on. Basketball and football records have changed dramatically in the last 50 years (and let’s not even speculate on what PEDs might be used in those leagues) because the athletes have gotten bigger, faster, stronger. Not to mention some basic changes in the games themselves. While the American League has added the designated hitter, the most radical change in baseball, it is nowhere near the game changer the 3 point line has been in basketball --- not to mention how basketball scoring records are now altered by allowing people to score a new way! Football has remained a 100 yard field, but goal posts and hashmarks have changed over the years and rules regarding defensive line play (head slaps), coverage of receivers (jamming people at the line) as well as the new array of rules to try to keep the game "safe" have adjusted to the bigger, stronger, faster players. And baseball? Look at the Betances-Altuve photo – a pitcher with an ERA below 2.00 and the league leader in hits and stolen bases—playing on the same fields, dimensionally, as Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Jackie Robinson, Roberto Clemente, et al.
Baseball a summer game (no time limit – enjoy yourself at the park, as Carlin tells us) and it’s a throwback. Everyone can play baseball and to not see how this extremely simple yet beautifully complicated game is so much a part of who we are is to genuinely miss something special.
One final note: I read a sociological essay years ago about how a baseball field perfectly reflects the geography(and psyche?) of America. While I can’t remember the author or all the details, the gist was this: Between the pitcher’s mound and home plate, a distance of 60 feet and 6 inches, you have four people (pitcher-catcher-batter-umpire) and all the action takes place there, since every play begins with a pitch. It is a busy place --- very urban. As we move out to the infield, where the bases are 90 feet apart, we find 4 players “living” in the suburbs. Of course I have forgotten to mention the basic shape of a baseball field is ever-expanding down the first and third base lines and, if not for fences built at fields and stadiums, would go on forever --- quite the limitless, westward ho American Dream. But those fences, anywhere between 300 and 450 feet from home plate in most major league parks, contain the outfield --- a huge pasture patrolled by only three people, much like the rural areas of America, vast, wide open and sparsely populated. I find it an apt analogy and it only reinforces my love for this timeless and wonderful game.
James Earl Jones, playing Terrance Mann, the iconoclastic author in the movie “Field of Dreams,” captures an important sentiment in his wonderful monologue toward the end of the film.
The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It's been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and it could be again.
If you haven't gone to a baseball game in years --- or if you haven't ever gone to one --- get out to the ball park on a nice summer afternoon or evening and revel in the pace of the game, the thoughtfulness of the batters and pitchers as they duel, the alertness (or absentmindedness) of the fielders. Enjoy it.
An old friend, a teacher and poet, Tom Brush, sent me a poem back in 1986 called "Dreamland" and its final stanza sums up what I'm trying to say far better than I could.
This year I'll sit in the bleachers, take
off my shirt, catch the sun, chase
a red hot with cold
beer, bring back the Babe,
The Bambino, before he shifted
to right, when he still threw
smoke, when the Red Sox were something
like magic.
I always feel the need to explain to all those who believe baseball is a “boring” game, or that it “takes too long,” or who simply say “How can you watch/like that?” why they are missing the beauty of the sport. I won’t steal George Carlin’s brilliant monologue on the differences between baseball and football (though everyone should hear it: simply Google YouTube- “George Carlin on Baseball and Football” ) but I will focus on a point or two he makes. Most significantly, in baseball the DEFENSE has the ball and controls the game. Imagine if this happened in basketball or football. Of course,
it couldn’t! It’s a genuinely unique concept and part of what sets baseball apart and makes it a game where every pitch requires new strategy. More than that, THE most difficult athletic skill, bar none, is hitting a well-pitched baseball. To hit a round ball (moving at speeds up to 100 mph and spinning in a variety of ways --- or floating and then breaking in who-knows-what-direction, like a knuckleball) with a round bat SQUARELY is rare athletic gift. In what other sport – or occupation, for that matter – would you be considered at the top of your profession when you were only successful 3 out of 10 times? Yet a .300 hitter in baseball is seen as among the best in the game. Those who don’t understand this lovely subtlety are missing just some of the beauty of the game. (Think about Michael Jordan's baseball career if you want to consider how challenging the sport is.)
That baseball is also a game that does not discriminate as far as height, weight, fleetness afoot, etc. is another extraordinary element of the sport. Where football and basketball clearly prefer extreme endomorphs or ectomorphs and value almost inhuman strength, blazing speed and other worldly jumping ability--- almost as prerequisites---baseball has room for everybody. A 2015 photo of Dellin Betances, the 6’8’’ Yankee pitcher next to Houston’s (allegedly) 5’6” Jose Altuve at an ALL-STAR game displayed the wonderful democracy of baseball.
This speaks to another aspect of baseball that is extraordinary. While athletes have most certainly gotten bigger, faster, stronger as time has gone on, baseball fields and the records held on them have been incredibly consistent (let’s ignore the PED fueled ‘80’s and ‘90’s for the moment). By that I mean, no matter how much bigger, faster, stronger athletes have become --- if you hit the ball sharply to shortstop, you cannot run the 90 feet to first base safely. A .300 hitter is a .300 hitter and a pitcher with an Earned Run Average (ERA) below 3.00 are still the best in the game, just as they were in the 1920’s or ‘30’s and so on. Basketball and football records have changed dramatically in the last 50 years (and let’s not even speculate on what PEDs might be used in those leagues) because the athletes have gotten bigger, faster, stronger. Not to mention some basic changes in the games themselves. While the American League has added the designated hitter, the most radical change in baseball, it is nowhere near the game changer the 3 point line has been in basketball --- not to mention how basketball scoring records are now altered by allowing people to score a new way! Football has remained a 100 yard field, but goal posts and hashmarks have changed over the years and rules regarding defensive line play (head slaps), coverage of receivers (jamming people at the line) as well as the new array of rules to try to keep the game "safe" have adjusted to the bigger, stronger, faster players. And baseball? Look at the Betances-Altuve photo – a pitcher with an ERA below 2.00 and the league leader in hits and stolen bases—playing on the same fields, dimensionally, as Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Jackie Robinson, Roberto Clemente, et al.
Baseball a summer game (no time limit – enjoy yourself at the park, as Carlin tells us) and it’s a throwback. Everyone can play baseball and to not see how this extremely simple yet beautifully complicated game is so much a part of who we are is to genuinely miss something special.
One final note: I read a sociological essay years ago about how a baseball field perfectly reflects the geography(and psyche?) of America. While I can’t remember the author or all the details, the gist was this: Between the pitcher’s mound and home plate, a distance of 60 feet and 6 inches, you have four people (pitcher-catcher-batter-umpire) and all the action takes place there, since every play begins with a pitch. It is a busy place --- very urban. As we move out to the infield, where the bases are 90 feet apart, we find 4 players “living” in the suburbs. Of course I have forgotten to mention the basic shape of a baseball field is ever-expanding down the first and third base lines and, if not for fences built at fields and stadiums, would go on forever --- quite the limitless, westward ho American Dream. But those fences, anywhere between 300 and 450 feet from home plate in most major league parks, contain the outfield --- a huge pasture patrolled by only three people, much like the rural areas of America, vast, wide open and sparsely populated. I find it an apt analogy and it only reinforces my love for this timeless and wonderful game.
James Earl Jones, playing Terrance Mann, the iconoclastic author in the movie “Field of Dreams,” captures an important sentiment in his wonderful monologue toward the end of the film.
The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It's been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and it could be again.
If you haven't gone to a baseball game in years --- or if you haven't ever gone to one --- get out to the ball park on a nice summer afternoon or evening and revel in the pace of the game, the thoughtfulness of the batters and pitchers as they duel, the alertness (or absentmindedness) of the fielders. Enjoy it.
An old friend, a teacher and poet, Tom Brush, sent me a poem back in 1986 called "Dreamland" and its final stanza sums up what I'm trying to say far better than I could.
This year I'll sit in the bleachers, take
off my shirt, catch the sun, chase
a red hot with cold
beer, bring back the Babe,
The Bambino, before he shifted
to right, when he still threw
smoke, when the Red Sox were something
like magic.