There are wars and rumors of wars abroad and economic hardships and political corruption at home. Heck, Huebert Davis was just fired. With so much going on, why write about baseball, which, let’s face it, hasn’t really been America’s pastime since 1965?
Like a brand-new jersey, there is the inherent optimism of a fresh start. At the beginning of the season, every team is in first place, including the Chicago White Sox. While true for the opening day of any sport, new beginnings are especially poignant this time of year. From peeping frogs and chirping birds to the crack of the baseball bat, hope springs eternal. Even for fans in the South Side of Chicago.
But for me, MLB Opening Day is more about the first step of a long journey. They play 162 games, and that’s just the regular season. The World Series runs past Halloween. Baseball will take us from the end of one school year to the start of another. In between, I play in a fantasy league with guys from church as well as my father and young brother. From RBIs to home runs, baseball is a common language. No money is involved; the only price to pay is to enjoy the good-natured ribbing about an ill-advised draft pick or season-ending injury.
The companionship of baseball evokes not only the season ahead but also reaches back into the past. I remember those Atlanta Braves teams of my youth, which were awful until they were almost unbeatable. The stars of today echo the players of the past. (Except for Shohei Otani, the likes of whom the world has never seen before.) The game has changed, of course, but each player still gets three strikes, whether called by a human or robot umpire.
Speaking of robots, maybe Yogi Berra was right: “The future ain’t what it used to be.” While there is an element of nostalgia for me on Opening Day, baseball is more than just a pleasant distraction. The comfort of familiarity can sustain a person for the challenges that will inevitably confront us all. For instance, I plan to attend a No Kings rally this Saturday in solidarity with tens of millions of Americans. Throughout the season, I’ll stay involved in my local community and keep up with the national headlines. But it helps lower my anxiety just knowing that the MLB box scores are also there.
In the best of times and the worst of times, they play baseball. I’ll let Yogi have the last word: “Love is the most important thing in the world, but baseball’s pretty good too.”
Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the author of the book with Wipf and Stock Publishers titled This Is the Day: A Year of Observing Unofficial Holidays about Ampersands, Bobbleheads, Buttons, Cousins, Hairball Awareness, Humbugs, Serendipity, Star Wars, Teenagers, Tenderness, Walking to School, Yo-Yos, and More. He lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina where he is a student of joy.
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