Ten Good Reasons "Y" Not

by Kerry Blair

Julie Bellon used to be my hero. I still envy her incredible talent, admire her class, and appreciate the fact that she is one of the nicest people on the planet, but when she proposed a “Lovin’ the Pigskin Day” yesterday . . . well . . . her pedestal cracked. About the time she waxed poetic about a quarterback it crumbled.

Don’t get me wrong. I think football’s a great game – compared with, say, bullfighting, seal-clubbing, and that “sport” played by gladiators in ancient Rome. But as author John Fowles observed: “The various forms of football in the world don’t begin to compare with the two great Ango-Saxon ball games for sophisticated elegance and symbolism. Baseball and cricket are beautiful and highly stylized, chess made with flesh, a mixture of proud chivalry and base greed. With football we are back to the monotonous clashing armor of the brontosaurus.”

In case anybody wonders why baseball is so much better than football, let me count the ways:

1) In baseball you have more to be fanatic about. Watching 162 games a year is 10.125 times better than watching sixteen. If you miss your favorite football team, you have to wait a week for another game. In baseball you only have to wait a day.

2) You know when to cheer. A home run is a home run. In football you think you’re watching an amazing play then refs start throwing flags around and everything starts over. Don’t even get me started on the instant replays. A baseball ump’s call – right, wrong or ridiculous – stands forever. Maybe longer. (Arizona saw this sad fact illustrated on second base just last night.)

3) Baseball has double headers. A football player saying, “It’s such a nice day, let’s play two!” (Ernie Banks) will never happen.

4) There’s more to get excited about. An average baseball game has about 250 pitches, nine runs, and at least 80 completed plays (hits, walks, outs) in 2 ½ to 3 hours. An average football game lasts approximately six days yet has an average of only five touchdowns, a couple of field goals, and maybe twenty-five gains or losses of more than ten yards. (Thomas Boswell) The rest of the time you sit with your eyes on the scoreboard, amazed at the fact that any clock outside the Twilight Zone could possibly move so slow.

5) Baseball heralds spring while football ushers in winter. Which is more appealing: Sunning on the bleachers in a short-sleeved shirt and a thin layer of sunscreen or huddled on an icy bench under six layers of clothing and two lap blankets?

6) Baseball’s terminology is nicer. In football they blitz, bomb, spear, shiver, march, and score. In baseball they wait for a walk, take a stretch, toe the rubber, play ball, and run home. (George Carlin)

7) Baseball gives more chances to players and fans alike. “In baseball you can’t sit on a lead and run a few plays into the line and just kill the clock. You’ve got to throw the ball over the *%@# plate and give the other man his chance.” (Earl Weaver) From the fan’s perspective, nine innings of baseball mean nine chances at a stall in the restroom. Two halves in a football game means you’d better not drink anything before, during, or immediately after.

8) Baseball is tradition at its finest. Let’s face it, the game hasn’t changed much since Walt Whitman wrote, “I see great things in baseball. It’s the American game” or Robert Frost penned, “Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.” In baseball a scruffy bullpen coach blows bubble gum with his cap turned backward while leaning against the outfield fence watching the game. In football a defensive coordinator in a satin jacket with a headset and a clipboard paces the sidelines while gazing up at glass stadium boxes and jabbering into a microphone. Maybe that’s why the baseball Hall of Fame is in Cooperstown, beside James Fenimore Cooper’s Lake Glimmerglass while the football Hall of Fame is in Canton, Ohio, beside the freeway.

9) Baseball has better philosophy. Or at least better philosophers. Vince Lombardi said: “Winning isn’t everything. It’s the only thing.” Tommy Lasorda said: “No matter how good you are you’re going to lose one-third of your games. No matter how bad you are you’re going to win one-third of your games. It’s the other third that makes the difference.” Frankly, football has no sense of humor, whereas baseball is self-deprecating and often funny. Casey Stengal to his barber: “Don’t cut my throat. I may want to do that myself later.” Harry Carrey to Chicago fans: “What do grizzlies on birth control and the World Series have in common? No Cubs.”

10) “Who’s on First?” (Scroll down and click on the radio.)

I enthusiastically concur with Art Hill: “With those who don’t give a (darn) about baseball, I can only sympathize. I do not resent them. I am even willing to concede that many of them are physically clean, good to their mothers, and in favor of world peace. But while the series is on, I can’t think of anything to say to them.”

So, Julie, while I still love you to pieces, you keep watching those blue brontosauruses clash and I’ll keep watching baseball. We can talk again in November.