My first team |
A lot of people get confused about major league baseball because it isn’t the way they remember it. They think their city has a team, only to find that come spring the league has metastasized and their team is no longer there at all, but has become the Las Vegas Sequins or the Mississippi Girth, and they just can’t bring themselves to care anymore. Or, like me, they are Red Sox fans and their team starts winning and they feel disoriented and off-balance.
So let’s do a little history. Baseball is a very old game. It has been around since before time was invented and is distinguished to this day by the lack of a clock. Olden baseball players used to keep playing until the ball hit a badger or a wolverine and then everyone got to run at once. A somewhat later version called “stool-ball,” though open-ended, tended to be quicker. There was only one pitcher, no one volunteered to catch, and the game was over as soon as the stool-ball was hit, until a new ball could be produced the next morning. By the mid-1500s, the game resembled modern baseball in many respects. The ball was set up on a tee and everyone got a chance to whack it off, but the bat was much more splintery and everyone complained about players scratching their balls.
Preparing the stool-ball |
It wasn’t until 1845 that things settled down with the Knickerbocker Rules which prohibited, among other things, gunning the ball at a runner’s head (where the term “out” originated). Around this time the first uniforms were invented by the New York Knickerbockers, which led to a lot of team spirit if nothing else. Finally another team, the Manhattan Nine, invented different uniforms and it was game on, or would have been, if either team had wanted to ferry across the Hudson, which they didn’t. So both teams stayed put and played with themselves.
By 1876 the National League came into being and waited around for the American League to show up in 1901 so they could finally play in the World Series. Everything ran smoothly from then on, with the team with the best record in the National League facing off against the Yankees.
There weren’t any teams in the West at all until the Interstate Highway System led to the discovery of California in 1958 and two of the New York teams moved there. This began a new era of expansion until by 1962 each league had ten teams. By 1969 the leagues had been dingle-balled up by two more teams each and something had to be done. Each league developed East and West divisions and the playoff series was instituted. For the sake of nostalgia, the Cubs are still eliminated.
But more teams kept coming. Two more in 1977, two more after that in 1993, and a new structure had to be put in place with three divisions in each league. By 1995 the leagues had swelled to an unmanageable 28 teams and the divisions were further partitioned into committees and discussion groups. Also, the Wild Card was introduced to allow losing teams to scrap for a playoff spot, and in response to accusations that this ruined baseball, more wild cards were added. The joker soon followed.
Finally we had the system baseball teams enjoy today, where the season begins in April and the playoffs in late May. By early October, the winners of the previous year’s playoffs have been determined, and later in the month, the current year’s playoff series is suspended for a week so that they can play in the World Series. Playoffs resume in November. The Red Sox will not be in it.
Go, Girth!
In the US it's called Major League Baseball.
In the UK it's called Rounders and is played by girls 😉
I hate walking on baLLs, and by that I mean the strange bumpy sidewalk that completely surrounds the entrance to our CVS pharmacy. Do you have these strange things in Oregon? I have been through Oregon once, a smaLL piece on a trip from WA to TX, but it was mostly dark, and just the northeast corner of the state, which may not be the best corner of Oregon. If you had to pick the best corner of Oregon, which would you choose? We could caLL it Corneregon.
I have a science teacher from high school who moved to Oregon named George Sturtz, and I think he lives near Albany. Are you veRy close to Albany? If you ever happen to meet him, say "Ernie said to say 'hi' and that he should come home to Texas next July for German Fest."
Let me jot that down. I was in Albany two weeks ago and I must have seen George, but then you know what happens–you forget the message.
The northeast corner of Oregon looks like Switzerland, if you like that kind of thing!
I played softball. Once.I was run out and went to sit under a shady tree. A boy called T. hit a homer and came to join me. He kissed me.I think our team won. I was 13.
I think your team won too!
Friends gave us tickets to a baseball game. As I quizzed my husband about basic points ("is this when they do the tip-off? Isn't there some sort of time limit? That guy halfway in the back – is he a halfback?) The young man in front of us snorted in disgust and occasionally gave me derisive looks. After the pitcher spent an interminable time trying to catch a runner off base, stalling, stalling, adjusting his undergarments, squinting at the batter, stalling, I asked my husband, "Is this when we holler,'Throw the ball, you c_cksucker!'?" The young man in front of us blew beer through his nose.
It seems as if organizing the games is more exciting than playing them.
Yeah but–yeah but–you see the wonderful thing about baseball is that something really exciting could happen at ANY MOMENT and all the moments that aren't exciting add up to produce UNBEARABLE TENSION, plus, there's hot dogs.
I have a problem with any game in which someone gets a hit and then just wants to run home. Wannies. Had me wonderin' about that post title.
I'm trying to think of what's wrong with your point, but it's unassailable. You're right. Does it help to think of them running around for a while and then going home?
Isn't it interesting how the bats have evolved from unreliable wooden sticks to smooth, hard aluminium; while the balls are still the same old skin-wrapped spheres as always.
Baseball imitates Viagra…
And that's why they say "give 'im the high, hard one!"
Diane, that may be the funniest thing I've heard this year!
The current Major League system also has an embedded minor league, in which teams like the Mariners and As develop players and then send them east to help the Yankees win postseason games.
That is the function of the minor league. It's just a supplement to the Red Sox's contribution to the Yankees, from Babe Ruth to Johnny Damon. Tradition!
Followed baseball (and hockey) religiously up to 1965 cheered for the Yankees and the Maple Leafs, then gave up. You describe the game quite well. It is to sports what bridge is to cards.
Coached minor girls softball for several years when my youngest two girls were 12-13. C division – the girls who wanted to play but no team wanted. They were awesome to coach.
I can hear you now: "There's no crying in baseball!"
Huh? World Series, snort! That's not cricket chaps, nobody else gets to play!
Well. Canadians are okay. They're sort of foreign.
Baseball is such a lovely game. It's so symmetrical. Played on a diamond in a field and you are safe at home. Sort of warm and fuzzy. If they could just get rid of that god-damned chicken!
We had a Portland Beaver, here, called Round Tripper, who could totally kick the chicken's ass.
Sounds like hockey to me, just change the names of the guilty parties 🙂
Oh but it's so unintentionally violent. Like that pitcher who just got beaned by a shot to center? Batter didn't mean it. The batter who got his wrist smashed by a pitch? Pitcher might possibly not have meant it. Quite possibly an accident.
I'm not a baseball fan, but we went to Boston this summer and I absolutely insisted that we visit Fenway Park. (History, you know.) The tour was fabulous and I highly recommend it. I think it would have been even better if I knew more about the game – what's a "Carl Yastrzemski" anyway?
GAH! GAH! You're saying that on purpose to spin my beanie propeller! St. YAZ!
Stool ball…I can imagine what the ball was made of…
Sit long enough and you can make one yourself, Rose.
I am still confused – but then I am not into ball games at the best of times.
To really appreciate a game, you have to play it up close and personal. I played softball. I caught an entire softball with just my eye socket. You can't get more up close than that, unless you have a penis.
The only way I can stay awake during a televised baseball game is to do the ironing, so it's actually a very useful and productive sport. Otherwise, it's the best soporific going. I had a brief flirtation with fandom when the Blue Jays were hot but now it's back to the prolonged nap that is the baseball season.
That's good right there, innit? Things that put you to sleep are a great blessing.
Took some "balls" to write this piece I'll bet.
You didn't mention that some teams are really fakes. They're the farm teams for the Yankees like Seattle and Cleveland.
And Boston.
That has to be one of the most factual and honest explanations of the game I have ever heard. I am in awe of you knowlegeableness.
Oh, I send Wikipedia $20 every year.
You left out the part about managers and coaches speaking tri or quadlingually and the players needing reasonably accurate passports. And, how many different uniforms does a team have before their bobble heads become dated?
I don't know, but I do treasure a real personal autograph from Luis Tiant and I manage to overlook that it is on a baseball card from the minor league Portland Beavers, post-Sox.
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