Thursday Thoughts With TJ: On Baseball And The Community It Can Create

ILLINOIS — I don’t remember the exact date my passion was first aroused. I don’t remember how old I was or what, exactly, first attracted me. It was something that just came naturally, I suppose, like breathing or eating or sleeping. What I do know for sure is that when I really think about it, I have always been in love with baseball.

I couldn’t tell you when I saw my first game. I have no idea who was playing, whether it was a weekday or weekend game, if it was day or night. I don’t know if it was on television, or on the radio, or live in person. It could’ve been professional baseball players just as easily as it could’ve been neighborhood kids playing. But whenever and wherever it was, it hooked me for life.

Over the years I’ve watched or listened to hundreds, maybe thousands, of games. And, like any good relationship, it never gets old. Every season brings new players to join old favorites. Every season teaches me how to remember the past fondly, while building hope for the new days to come.

There is nothing else that compares to the thrill of going to a game — seeing the lush, green grass against a brilliant blue sky of a summer day; smelling the peanuts and hot dogs from the vendors; hearing the sound of a well-swung bat strike a ball traveling at over 90 mph; feeling the collective excitement of a crowd.

For just a few hours out of a day, we can all be part of something great and fun and thrilling, and we can all be a part of it together. I don’t have to know who the person sitting next to me is. But, when our team is winning, that person is my new best friend for the day. When our team loses, knowing that person is feeling the same sadness that I am feeling gives me a sort of comfort that connecting with other people gives you.

I, like so many other baseball fans, have my favorite team. But my love runs deeper than just any one team. Baseball has been played for more than 170 years. People from all walks of life have played the game. The diversity of ball players in the modern era is one of the biggest attractions to me. On any given team, there will be dozens of players, coaches and staff from all over the country and beyond.

Baseball has an innate language that we can all understand. The rules are fairly simple. It is just a game, after all. It's that simplicity, that collective understanding of the game and its players, that allows for representation of people from different places, different cultures, different ideals.

They come from large families, small families, rural towns and big cities. Some had the benefit of the finest training and equipment. Some grew up hitting bottle caps with broom sticks. Where they came from is not as important as where they are now. They play as a team. They win together or lose together.

The better teams understand this and usually win more often. Wouldn’t it be nice if more of us in our own communities payed more attention to these lessons we can learn from baseball?

It has not always been the case that baseball was as inclusive as it is today. And, some might argue, the game still has a ways to go if it wants to be truly representative of our communities and our nation. The good news is, both in our communities and in baseball, progress is inevitable — or, I like to think it is, at least. Those who stand opposed to progress and inclusivity usually end up on the losing end of the game.

Throughout my life I’ve loved different people and things. Some loves lasted, others did not. My love of baseball will last because the game is bigger than any one person. It represents all of us, our history, our culture, our successes and our failures. To me, it is the most perfect game ever invented. We are lucky to have it as our national pastime.

Until next time, may the Force be with you, always. And... GO GO WHITE SOX!