“Baseball has begun. East and west, this is the week
of the unfurled bunting, the flexed mayoral or gubernatorial wing, the restored
hope, the repainted seat, the April fly ball falling untouched on resodded
turf, the windblown shout, and the distant row of pitchers and catchers
huddling deeper into their windbreakers as the early-spring sunlight deserts
the bullpen. Now everything counts; from now until October, every pitch and
every swing will be recorded. In another month, some order will begin to emerge
from the standings. Infields will have hardened, some arms and expectations
will have gone bad, and enormous crowds will pour out for their first weekend
doubleheaders. The long season will engage us once again.”—Baseball essayist
and former
New Yorker chief fiction editor Roger Angell, The Summer Game (1972)
Okay, traditional day doubleheaders are becoming an
increasing rarity because of major league baseball’s attempt to maximize the
dollars. But the owners still recognize, even in their usual money-grubbing way,
that the diamond, grass and the players who run there are objects of hope and,
sometimes, joy for millions.
Play ball!
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