Poetry (and a life lesson!) from the pitcher’s mound
Sports week continues here at the Pink Blog . . .
Last night, two of the Pinklettes and I were sitting in the stands as the Washington Nationals found themselves down 5-1 with two outs in the bottom of the ninth inning. Then, over the next 10 minutes, the Nats made an astonishing comeback, won the game 6-5, and sent the Seattle Mariners walking shell-shocked off the field.
Today’s Washington Post has a story about the game that ends with a quotation from pitcher Livan Hernandez. I just noticed that if you reformat Hernandez’s words, the whole thing works as a poem.
And if you’re in the right frame of mind, perhaps aided by an adult beverage, the resulting poem also conveys a deeper message about life itself.
Baseball is crazy.
You know, baseball is 27 outs.
Not too many believe that.
But baseball is 27 outs.
Seriously. Read it out loud and let me know what you think.
(Note: If you doubt my poetical aptitude, consider this. In college, I had a poetry professor who said he’d give me an A-minus in his class if I agreed to stop writing poems and concentrate on prose. Yes, dear reader, I took the offer.)
I read the WP article. I’m a baseball lover. What I hear in the poem is the “sum of its parts” sort of idea. Sure that one hit finished the game with a result altering outcome… but it only happened that way because that hit was an important part which impacted the sum of the 27 outs. Every other play overlaps in contribution to the final result.
I’m not a Boston Red Sox fan, but I think most sports fans in general are awed by what they did in 2004. Not only were they down to their final (out) for the game, they were down to their final out for the (season) — and they came back to win the game (the series, after being down 3-0), and then went on to win the World Series.
Livan’s take on baseball is very astute. Most ballplayers “pack it in” when it gets to the last out of a game (and they’re down by a few runs). Maybe all except for the guy at the plate. The guy at the plate is in it. He’s trying to get on base. And then if he does, the next guy is in it, and he’s trying to get on base. Slowly, a rally builds, momentum gains, and then the team is standing at the top of the dugout — cheering on their guys.
~~
Baseball is very strange in this sense. One team can be, metaphorically, on the ropes (and down to their last out), only to come back and win the game. They can be losing the whole game… for the duration of 8.2 innings, only to win it in their last at-bat. No other sport (that comes to mind right away) offers this same kind of unlikely comeback. Yes, one could argue that sports like basketball, football, and hockey, all have stellar comebacks, but with these sports, it’s a bit different. The teams are not only battling an opponent, they are fighting against the clock. With baseball, there is no clock. It’s just your team versus their team. Until they get you out, you get to keep playing.
With Love and Gratitude,
Jeremiah
PS: In the interest of full disclosure, I played baseball competitively for most of my youth and into college — and I didn’t know, but I guess I had a lot to say about baseball. 🙂
Shouldn’t it be 9 innings X 3 outs X 2 teams / game = 54 outs /game ?
I had a beverage…. this is the result:
Twenty-seven outs . . .
What about extra Innings?
Baseball is Crazy!
Coolest thing about baseball is that is not regulated by a clock… you play till its over (or rain-shortened) and every inning counts equally – so play them all with the same amount of passion!
Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and sometimes it rains. Think about that for awhile. – Crash Davis, Bull Durham
Reminds me of “35 Summers” scene from Rumblefish http://bit.ly/35summers
#3 Jon is almost correct — baseball is 51 outs if the team batting second is ahead in the ninth inning. On the other hand, many tie games have gone beyond 20 innings, meaning baseball is more than 120 outs!
There’s an idea that each of us has a finite number of breaths in our life. The trouble is, the number is forever unknown to us. Until you reach the end, as #2 Jeremiah says, you get to keep playing. Batter up!
Love this thread. I’ve always been keenly aware of the psychological impact various events have on the game, aka momentum. I’m afraid I just have to add the old adage that it’s not over until the fat lady sings. Maybe not too PC, but true. I live and breathe baseball in the summer – fortunately with the yankees, who are doing well precisely because their best players are on the DL and they have no pitching to speak of (except cc). The challenge, the desire to do it for the team, not for the individual stat, calls up the best in the players. Being trite again, I have to say that’s why playing team sports (without insane parents or coaches) is good training for the rest of life’s community endeavours.
Weren’t the Pinklettes a Motown girl group from the ’60s?
Always remember, “There’s no crying in baseball!”
Play ’til the end. I like that. Ken Burns’ “Baseball” convinced me that it’s not a sport, it’s a metaphor for life.
I think there’s also further research to be done about people who’ll sell their non-poetic soul for a grade, but I’m not sure what category the book would fall under . . .