"And they’ll watch the game, and it’ll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they’ll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come, Ray. The one constant through all the years Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It’s been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and that could be again. Oh, people will come, Ray. People most definitely will come." Field of Dreams
"Baseball, it is said is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona." George Will
Baseball fans are an odd group, and I consider myself one of them. I've been a fan since going to games with my dad many years ago, and I still care about it even though the game has gotten too expensive and too driven by analytics to suit many of us fans.
For my entire life, I've been a die-hard St. Louis Cardinals fan. Not because they are particularly better than any other team, but mainly because I live here and that's what you do when you live near a team. The Cardinals have provided me with plenty of excitement over the years, including five world series titles and many hours of tense, action-packed games. (Like most fans, I'd rather not recall the many losing seasons the team endured.)
The main reason I've enjoyed the Cardinals, however, has nothing to do with baseball. It has to do with the sense of community that I get from fellow fans at every game and even out in public when we recognize each other wearing team logos. St. Louis has had its problems through the years, but one of the main things that makes me feel like I belong to something here is the Cardinals. They are a point of civic pride, no matter the murder rate or the abandoned buildings downtown. There is a kinship.
I tested that kinship when for the first time ever I visited another city's ballpark. I saw the Cardinals play their cross-state rivals Kansas City at Kaufman stadium and it deepened my love for the sport, even if the Cardinals disappointed me by losing 8-3. The other stadium was laid out differently and included several things I had never seen before in a baseball stadium.
Lovely fountains in the outfield that went off between innings.
Tailgate parties in the enormous parking lot.
Booths for fan photos to take near the entrance.
Most of the fans were wearing blue instead of red.
Mind you, there were many Cardinal fans in Kansas City that day, but they were outnumbered and outcheered. It was a humbling experience for someone who spent 50+ years surrounded by the same fans. It was also eye-opening to see what was the same and what was different. Major League baseball is unique in that it allows each team to have different dimensions in its outfield, resulting in unique results depending on which stadium a game is played in.
I got to thinking about all of this in terms of our tribalism situation here in the US in general. It's one thing to become a fan of a sports team, or a rock star, but it's totally different when your political, religious, and core beliefs all depend on what your "tribe" thinks. Tribalism is nothing new, of course. It dates back to the days of hunter-gatherers thousands of years ago. But I find it odd in our world that is so interconnected and dependent on elaborate supply chains, that people would resort to information bubbles and segregated spaces so that they don't have to confront the things that don't conform to their beliefs.
The stakes have gotten so high, and the differences so wide, that it seems almost impossible to see the two extremes ever compromising. Partly because the incentives in politics and social media emphasize conflict and controversy, not decency and reason. But if Cardinals and Royals fans can get along, (with the possible exception of a 1985 umpire call), maybe there's hope for all of us. Even the Yankees and Red Sox fans somehow manage.
At bottom, baseball is an enjoyable game, no matter who wins. I love to watch a good defensive play, pitcher's duel, or a clutch home run. I enjoy the entertainment on the Jumbotron, be it the kiss-cam, the hot dog race, or just shots of joyful kids enjoying a game with their parents and dancing in the aisles. And I always have to get my fix of Dippin Dots. You can't confine any of that to one tribe.
Decked out in my Cardinal Red, I feared little from the many Royal blue fans around me. We were all there to have a good time. Now should I wear a Kamala Harris shirt to a Trump rally, that might produce a different result, which is too bad. In theory we all want the same thing- to have peaceful, prosperous nation to call home. We just have different ways of looking at it. I don't claim to have all the answers, but I know they mostly land somewhere in the middle, not at the extremes.
The movie Field of Dreams ends with the inspiring quote from James Earl Jones above, and it seems fitting about the power of baseball to remind of us of what is good- teamwork without hatred, sportsmanship without violence, and entertainment without judgement. The multi-million dollar salaries and $20 beers have drowned out some of the joy, but it's still there, if only in the eyes of a child. I see the same spirit in the Olympics when athletes give their all while still managing to be kind and supportive of each other.
Had I been born in Kansas City, I probably would now be a Royals fan, and that's okay. They are good people with the same dreams and flaws as the rest of us. Underneath our jerseys and beneath our ballcaps, we are all part of one huge tribe- humanity, and if we can squeeze in a few hours of joy once in a while, then play ball!
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