TIME, SPACE, AND BASEBALL
Erik,
Deeanne Westbrook, in a piece citing W.P. Kinsella's philosophical predilections when illuminating baseball in his fiction, suggests a game beneath the game when she says:
I quote Westbrook because she reminds me of how completely oblivious I was to the game beneath the game before I got involved in baseball 4 short years ago. Before that, I thought it was as boring as golf (which still bores me silly). Just a week ago, I was trying to explain to a colleague how I came late in life to baseball, tried to explain that I suddenly became aware of the intersection of art and science in the game, that I abruptly recognized its cerebral qualities, its athletic virtuosity, its addictive strategic intensity. But I failed because I couldn't explain something as simple as the game beneath the game. Whether it's death, warping time, or redemption, baseball lends itself to more allegory and metaphor than any game (chess?) I can contemplate. As a fantasist, meticulous thinker, and romantic, I can't ask for better.
What do you think?
Deeanne Westbrook, in a piece citing W.P. Kinsella's philosophical predilections when illuminating baseball in his fiction, suggests a game beneath the game when she says:
...Baseball has an array of means for defeating time, and to defeat time is to avoid death. The progress of the game, however, provides ample opportunity for ritual death in a variety of forms. The batter-as-hero faces perils: if he's out, he's dead, and so an out of any kind (a strikeout, a 'twin killing,' a sacrifice, being caught stealing, etc.) will do him in, although a beanball may do the job in a less allegorical sense. Fielders, too, have their scrapes with disaster: line drives, collisions with teammates or base runners, and dangerous pitfalls and barriers that may or may not be signaled by warning tracks. A relief pitcher may 'kill a rally,' and a timely pitch may 'keep the game alive.' Our language for these events reveals their symbolic value: these are matters of life and death. The rhythms of the game, inning by inning, imitate cycles of life and death, as does the game as a whole. One team wins (lives), the other loses (dies), and as at Valhalla, the resurrected heroes defeat this death by returning to the battle the next day or the next season.
I quote Westbrook because she reminds me of how completely oblivious I was to the game beneath the game before I got involved in baseball 4 short years ago. Before that, I thought it was as boring as golf (which still bores me silly). Just a week ago, I was trying to explain to a colleague how I came late in life to baseball, tried to explain that I suddenly became aware of the intersection of art and science in the game, that I abruptly recognized its cerebral qualities, its athletic virtuosity, its addictive strategic intensity. But I failed because I couldn't explain something as simple as the game beneath the game. Whether it's death, warping time, or redemption, baseball lends itself to more allegory and metaphor than any game (chess?) I can contemplate. As a fantasist, meticulous thinker, and romantic, I can't ask for better.
What do you think?
posted by Andrew at
2:45 AM
1 Comments:
I agree completely and love the passage. I’ve always failed miserably at explaining the mysteries of baseball to a non-believer. Failed to the point that I now take the conciliatory, "I like going to games," with great gratitude. But to me it's so much more than eating hotdogs and peanuts while cradling a frosty beer (though I adore that part of it too). There’s strategy and intrigue, the rise and fall of heroes, and as you so aptly put it, "the game beneath the game."
By
Erik, at 9:12 AM
Post a Comment
<< Home