Consider this a lament: Kids aren't playing baseball anymore.
Well, some are--but mostly under the auspices of well-meaning adults who hand out T-shirts, chalk the foul lines and call the balls and strikes. And that's fine; we applaud the folks who support the local Junior Deputy leagues and the Little Rock RBI (Reviving Baseball in the Inner City) program.
But when was the last time you saw a group of kids engaged in pitching and catching and batting and running the bases on their own? As in the sort of pickup sandlot games we remember from our own youth, only some of which we held on a proper diamond? (A suburban lot could suffice if you substituted a tennis ball that had lost most of its pressure for a real Rawlings horsehide.) Remember playing Pepper? Flip? 500? No one?
Maybe it's no surprise that baseball long ago lost its primacy as America's pastime. Not only are football and basketball more kinetic and better-suited to today's attenuated attention spans, they're games that can be played in a backyard or a driveway. You don't need a lot of expensive equipment or to acquire some relatively specialized skills to participate.
And yet the business of baseball has never been better. Even with the retirement of Derek Jeter, arguably the only genuinely famous Major Leaguer these days, revenue is at an all-time high. Attendance in the 30 major league parks and in minor leagues around the country is strong. Baseball players on average make half again as much money as football players (and, on average, can count on longer careers than pro football players).
Yet according to Nielsen ratings, 50 percent of baseball viewers are 55 or older. ESPN data pegs the average age of its baseball audience at 55, as opposed to 47 for the NFL and 37 for the NBA. And for the first time since the network initiated its annual survey of young Americans' 30 favorite sports figures, no baseball players appeared on the list.
No baseball players appeared on the list. For those of us who remember trading baseball cards, and remember Stan the Man, and Mickey Mantle, and, later, Cal Ripken and Nolan Ryan and Fernando Valenzuela and Rod Carew and Ozzie Smith and Tim Raines and Wade Boggs . . . No baseball players appeared on the list of America's favorite sports figures. Hard to believe. Almost impossible.
Rob Manfred, MLB's new commissioner, says the game is healthy, although he's considering ways of speeding it up to make it more palatable to younger spectators. As if adding some sort of clock to the sport of baseball would improve it. Some of us watch baseball, and look forward to attending real games, precisely because there is no clock. It's the greatest game in the world because a team can't get ahead and kneel on the ball.
It seems to us that the real problem with baseball is the defection of the casual player--the sandlot player--who has been lost to pursuits such as soccer and video games. Soccer's not so bad, but get the kids away from the game controls, if you still can. Admittedly our bias for baseball is rooted in nostalgia, and linked to ineffable and extinct sensations such as the crack of a wooden bat and soft flap of flannel. But what's so wrong about that? It's a good feeling. Here's hoping in 30 or 40 years there's another generation that feels the same way.
So long as there are multimillionaires to be made, we can expect that some kids will play baseball. But it might be too much to expect the game to succeed on its inherent grace and depthless history alone. So play catch with your sons--and with your daughters, too. Let's hold on to this American art form so long as we are able.
(Editor's note: The Arkansas Travelers' home opener is Thursday. See you at the park.)
Editorial on 04/13/2015