Is there a connection between baseball and writing?

As a young woman in the 50s growing up in Canada, I was intrigued by hockey and football. Baseball didn’t exist for me then. It hadn’t entered Canadian consciousness, and it would take some years before it did. But I didn’t feel deprived. Hockey and football had much to offer at that time, including handsome, vigorous guys.

It wasn’t until the 2010 playoffs that I became a Giants fan. I had watched baseball periodically over the years during the World Series, but I’d never followed a particular team, except the Yankees, my husband’s favorite club (he’s a former New Yorker). But something about the Giants’ ragtag collection of players, some almost over the hill, captured my interest and kept me engaged into the 2011 season. In the process, I’ve been learning what it means to become a fan, and I’m not sure that I qualify. I’m not very forgiving when they aren’t winning. But I think I’ve discovered why people are drawn to the game: hope. That’s the key word.

I find myself returning again and again to watching my team even when they aren’t winning or hitting because I hope that something will happen: they’ll have a hitting streak. The pitching will get so hot the opposing team can’t touch it. The Giants will prevail! Hope is the driving force.

As much as I’ve come to love the game, I’ve seen most of them on TV. I have no desire to visit AT&T’s gorgeous ball park for a variety of reasons, one being comfort. Another is the excellent commentary that accompanies TV coverage. But most important is our delightful LED screen. Watching the game this way, I feel I’m more inside the action than I would experience in person.

Of course, I also regularly check the Giants’ website, keeping updated on recent trades and transactions. Following the players’ records. Generally being informed.

But it’s difficult to keep up this intensity when my favorite team doesn’t have a chance at the playoffs. Okay, I know, I should be more expansive, more interested in the intricacies of the plays, in the future of the club. But I’m not. I can applaud wonderful pitching. I can lust over effortless-appearing home runs. And I can get excited about a well-executed double play. Yet the other refinements don’t interest me. I just want hits and runs. Period. Apparently the Giants’ management seeks the same thing.

How much of this is a reflection on the game as America’s pastime? How much does baseball capture the American psyche? It’s difficult to generalize. Hope isn’t only an American attitude. Most people cling to it, wishing for the best, desiring what can’t be easily attained. Yet hope does seem to be particularly American when partnered with the American Dream. They are long-time lovers, holding hands, clinging to each other. Hope keeps generation after generation striving to attain more than the previous one. So do we as fans, and the baseball players as well, aim for what can’t yet be grasped, that elusive thing waiting around the corner.

If any writers are reading this post, I’m sure they can recognize what drives them to keep those fingers tapping on the keys, producing words that eventually coalesce into poetry or prose. Some will periodically see their works in print, but most will continue because of the pleasure it gives them to fill pages with black marks. I can’t help but think there’s a connection here between baseball fans and writers. Welcome to the park!