A Bit About Baseball

I suppose everyone considers the generation of baseball they grew up with to be the Golden Age of Baseball. Being that our first exposure to it usually overlaps the sweet and carefree days of childhood, it's hardly surprising.

And I am no different.

Beyond the infamous Chicago Cubs of the late-sixties and early-seventies, I grew-up watching guys like Henry Aaron, Johnny Bench, Jim Palmer, Roberto Clemente, Bob Gibson, Carl Yastrzemski, Juan Marichal, Frank Robinson, Pete Rose, Willie Mays, Tom Seaver, Willie McCovey and Brooks Robinson.

I could go on. Gaylord Perry, Reggie Jackon, Orlando Cepeda, Tony Perez, Joe Morgan, Tony Oliva, Harmon Killebrew, Al Kaline, Lou Brock, Steve Carlton, Nolan Ryan, Al Oliver, Dick Allen and Vada Pinson.

Not all are in the Hall of Fame. But all played with distinction.

Were they better than the major leaguers of today? Hard to say. One thing is clear—they were different.

They were better-versed in the nuances of the game. More likely to utilize the array of strategies that had evolved over the last hundred years. Baseball hadn't yet de-evolved into an either-or game of home run or strike-out.

Today's baseball is a distillation of its most-obvious elements. Like an abstract painting, only the subject's largest and most-prominent features make it to the canvas. The rest disappears into the background.

Which is appropriate for our attention-deficit disordered times. We are so distracted by our onslaught of technology we can barely process the big things, much less the finer and more subtle ones.

If it isn't a corporate tag line repeating a dozen time in a fifteen-second spot or a hyper-strobed light in seizure mode it hardly registers. I mean, who even has the patience for a sacrifice bunt or a hit and run???

In a new-fashioned take on an old expression, hit it out or get off the pot.

I'll even go so far as to suggest that every one of today's MLB starting pitchers ought to total 3,000 strike-outs for their career. If they don't, they just aren't trying.

And while kids today no doubt see Clayton Kershaw and Bryce Harper through the same gauzy haze of hero-worship that I did Tom Seaver and Henry Aaron, they won't ever be equal.