"A man becomes preeminent, he’s expected to have enthusiasms.
Enthusiasms...
Enthusiasms...
What are mine?
What draws my admiration?
What is that which gives me joy?
Baseball!
A man stands alone at the plate.
This is the time for what?
For individual achievement.
There he stands alone.
But in the field, what?
Part of a team. Teamwork.
Looks, throws, catches, hustles.
Part of one big team.
Bats himself the live-long day,
Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, and so on.
If his team don’t field...what is he?
You follow me?
He’s no one.
Sunny day, the stands are full of fans.
What does he have to say?
I’m goin’ out there for myself.
But... I get nowhere unless the team wins."
-Robert De Niro as Al Capone in The Untouchables (1987)
And then, of course, it all turns very shockingly bloody. Even so, this is probably one of the finest movie monologues of all time, and an incredibly perceptive view of life, teamwork and (obviously) the gentleman's sport of baseball.
Anyone who would accuse me of being a fairweather fan would be mostly accurate. I watch the Red Wings during the playoffs, and maybe even some post-season Pistons games. In my own defense, I did watch quite a few Lions games last year, and that wasn't exactly a triumphant season.
Now the Tigers have rekindled my enthusiasm for baseball. Before we went to the game in September, I had to work hard to name four current Tigers. My ignorance has since decreased greatly. If you asked me "Who's Your Tiger?", I'd have to say Magglio Ordóñez, if only because he was one of the bigger stars in the game I attended, and he's got a really cool name. Now, of course, he's a hero.
So is it just the fairweather effect that has me glued to the MLB post-season? Even to the point of watching the NLCS games? Yeah, that's a big part of it, but hopefully there's more to it.
The truth is, I really do like some sports, even though I've never been good at playing any of them. (I wish I'd had more opportunities to play soccer as a kid; I might have actually been competent at that game.) I just don't have the time to watch sports very often, and therefore I'm not really inclined to shell out money for tickets, either. I'm also hindered by having only basic cable, and by living too far out from the city to get game radio broadcasts while driving.
But I have always been - to some degree or another - a baseball fan. Heck, I grew up in central Ohio in the 70's, and in those pre-cable days, Columbus TV carried the games of The Big Red Machine. (Wow, what a blast from the past to read the roster names from that Wikipedia entry!) We moved to Detroit in 1978, and Sparky Anderson soon followed, building the team which eventually became the 1984 World Champions.
Since those years, my best baseball-watching stint came when I was living in Florida, watching Chuck Tanner's Atlanta Braves on TBS. I find baseball to be a thinking man's game, and not just because of all the math and statistical analysis involved. Watching Turner manage was like watching chess and baseball at the same time. From using Zane Smith as a pinch runner, to setting up 6-9-4 double-plays, Turner used some of the most unique tactics I've ever seen.
So now, this week, I'm thinking baseball. Thinking like every other Detroit fan, probably, who really wants to see the NLCS go to seven games, hopefully beating up the victor's bull pen along the way. I'm thinking a rain out tonight might not be a bad thing, but whether they play tonight or tomorrow, I'd really like to see game five go about 14 or 15 innings.
I grew up with the phrase "it's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game," but quite honestly, I now believe "winning isn't everything; it's the only thing." That may sound callous and cold, but really it's not. Games (with the possible exception of the younger age groups in AYSO soccer) are played to be won. The rules define how you win. Good sportsmanship dictates that you follow the rules, and you don't wish calamity upon your opponent. However, there's a subtle difference between using the rules to gain an advantage and intentionally harming an opponent by "playing cutthroat." Never cut your own throat just to be polite. By the same token, if your opponent suffers calamity - injury, equipment failure, etc - then it's an advantage, and it should be used.
At this point it's too early to fortell how the World Series will go. If we knew, then there would be no point in playing the games. I do think that it would get very interesting to see a match-up between Kenny Rogers and Jeff Suppan. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens...