Serenity Summers, Florida Beat Writer

Friday, 31 July, 2009

The trading deadline has always been a perfect time for front offices and fans to evaluate their own team.  As you can imagine, there's gonna be some winners and losers.  For every contented first place team, there is an equally depressed last place team.

This is the time of year for the "have-nots" to envy the "haves" and scorn at the state of baseball.  The trading deadline is a perfect time for fans to point fingers at their favorite mercenary player who will undoubtedly leave their team for another team with deeper pockets.  This is the time when a GM slaps himself for signing that underachieving ballplayer over the past winter. Human nature tells us to never be happy and to always be wanting more. We're constantly nitpicking at the little things that go wrong and ignoring all the things that went right.

That is why we sometimes need a reminder of what baseball truly represents.  To quote James Earl Jones:

"The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh… people will come, Ray. People will most definitely come."

Sometimes each and every one of us needs a reminder of all that once was good and still is good.  Baseball has continued to march on tirelessly bridging the past to the present and the present to the future.  Whether it is the Negro Leagues, Winter Ball in the Dominican, Major League Baseball, stickball in the backyard, high school baseball or the Planetary Extreme Baseball Alliance, one thing remains a constant… and that is baseball will always be there for those who love it.

Sure you may hear stuff that would make you think otherwise.  Just like a rose, baseball has its thorns; but that is what makes baseball beautiful.  It is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but it is perfect enough.  The base paths may not be a perfect 100 feet but 90 feet is perfect enough.  It's not a perfect 60 feet from the mound to home plate but 60 feet and 6 inches is perfect enough.  A perfect game is the epitome of perfection but all could agree that a no-hitter is perfect enough.

Baseball's imperfection and idiosyncrasies are what make baseball… well, perfect.  Unlike other sports, baseball is not measured with a time clock.  It is not played in a stadium but rather a park.  The team on offense is not the one with the ball.  Baseball is different like that.  It is unique.  We all need to remember this.  We need to remember that baseball is not about groaning fans, high priced free agents, dollars and cents, or winners and losers.  Baseball is not about batting averages, homeruns, ERAs, division magic numbers, or any other statistic.

Baseball is not that.  You know what baseball is?  Think back to your first game where your father brought you to the good ol' ballpark to experience baseball.  Remember that car drive home where you bonded with your father over the game of baseball?  That, folks, is baseball.

Do you remember waking up all tired and groggy because you stayed up late last night watching that historic baseball game?  It was well worth it wasn't it?  That's baseball for you.

Or do you remember hitting your first homerun in Little League?  Remember rounding the bases?  Remember hearing your mom cheering?  What about having pizza with your teammates after the game?  That's baseball.

Baseball is not just about the emotions of the fans and spectators.  You can surely bet players feel what baseball is about too.

Think about that 23-year-old minor leaguer riding buses and sleeping in hotels for the last 2 years.  Imagine the emotions he felt when his minor league manager informed him he was finally being given a shot at baseball's grand stage.  Imagine how he felt when he batted .423 with 7 RBIs and 5 stolen bases in his first week.  That's baseball.

Or how about that 25-year-old minor league pitcher who is still clinging onto his dreams despite scouts scoffing at him?  Imagine how he felt when he threw that perfect game?  That's baseball.

Or what about that 35-year-old outfielder?  Even though Father Time is starting to run its toll, picture how he felt when he learned that you can indeed go home again?  That's baseball.

Baseball is not about statistics, money or underachieving teams.  Baseball is about a fraternity that brings all different walks of lives together.  Where else can a 23 and 35-year-old sharing the same passion?  It brings the casual and diehard fan together.  Spectators and ballplayers share the same field.  Baseball is not a game or a business.  It is an emotion and metaphor of life.

Not only does baseball bring people together, but baseball is like one gigantic diary that continuously writes stories over and over.  No-hitters and 3-homerun games are written.  Stories are written about a team honoring a fallen fraternity brother… a man and his beer… a forgotten catcher and his trophies.

Rather than fester over losing seasons, greedy ballplayers or the brokenness of baseball, we should learn to appreciate baseball for all it is.  It is by no means perfect.  It is in its imperfections that we find its perfection.  You show me a last place team and I will show you a team willing to struggle to transform itself.  You show me two losing teams with nothing to play for and I will show you two brothers with everything to play for.  You show me a baseball league that lost its commissioner at its conception and I will show you a thriving league 3 years later.

Baseball is perfect to those who choose to love it.  It is perfect to those who are willing to embrace its flaws and accentuate its beauty.

To sum it up perfectly, baseball is imperfectly perfect.