It’s the greatest day of the year. Again.
It’s here like clockwork. Trusty, reliable, ever-stalwart.
It’s Opening Day, and even though the Northeast is being threatened with chilly temperatures and rain, baseball will be played today. And that’s a great thing.
There’s some chatter out there about how Barack Obama will break tradition by not throwing out the ceremonial first pitch at the Washington Nationals game. To which I say, “Who cares?”
He did it last year, and was greeted with jeers, because, well, the guy can’t throw a baseball. For the good of the man, and the sport, it’s probably for the best that he skip it this year. But more importantly, I don’t care because baseball is everything that politics is not.
Baseball is unchanging. The rules are the same, by and large, as they were one hundred years ago. It’s still ninety feet to first base. And it’s still sixty-feet, six-inches from the mound to home plate. Three strikes is still an out. And I take comfort in that.
No matter how much money the players make, no matter how many times Barry Bonds is put on trial, baseball remains, simply, baseball.
Baseball is a breath of fresh air in turbulent times. In politics, Hope is a buzzword and a marketing tool. In baseball, it truly springs eternal. And if your team tanks, and ends up on the outside looking in, there really is always next year: a clean slate and a fresh start. In politics, next year is nothing more than turning the calendar. The same problems persist.
If you’re always striking out in baseball, you can’t hire a lobbyist to stuff the pockets of the umpire until he starts calling balls. You have to get better or you’re out of the game.
In baseball, if your product’s not working, you don’t get bailed out. You have to rebuild, no matter how much money you have. Just look at the Mets. Competition is king and the best team is the last team standing.
In baseball, you can’t get on top by schilling out pork. Baseball is a meritocracy. If can play, you get to play. There are no pay-to-play schemes in baseball.
Baseball is pure. It’s just baseball, plain and simple. On the surface it’s a beautiful game, perfectly proportioned, always the same, and yet ever-changing. But dig deeper and the intricacies of the game only serve to augment its beauty. Dig deeper into politics and it becomes increasingly grotesque.
That’s why I’m fine with Obama, and any other politician for that matter, staying away on Opening Day. Let us have this one day of magic, and beauty, and innocence to ourselves. The one day where we all start fresh, and everybody’s team is a contender.
This may all sound overly nostalgic, or hopelessly romantic, but that’s kind of the point. For at least one day, Hope is not an unkeepably vague campaign promise, but a virtue made manifest in a simple, yet beautiful game.
