How can you not be romantic about Baseball

I was always skeptical of baseball. The most common score is, like, 3–2, there are so many players on the team, and the rules are impossible to learn. And don’t get me started on all the statistics — ERA, OPS, RBI, SLG. I have to memorize enough acronyms for the MCAT — no need for more. 

This didn’t change two summers ago, when my friend from back home, Charlie, was visiting and took me to my first Baltimore Orioles game. Charlie lives and breathes baseball, so he taught me all the basic rules like what constitutes a ball and a strike, what the pitch clock does, and how one converts a double play. It was an incredible game. The Mariners had a few home run robberies but Ryan McKenna hit a walk-off homer in the bottom of the tenth inning to send the Orioles home. Charlie was right in saying that my experience as a baseball fan started at a peak, though my fandom didn’t continue into the season and I still didn’t bother to learn all the intricacies of the sport.

But this summer, while I was toiling from the strains of studying for the MCAT, I needed something to break up the monotony. Basketball season ended in early May, football was nowhere in sight and the Olympics didn’t start until July, so the only option I had left was baseball. It also helped that the O’s were crushing it at the start of the season. 

Soon I started to understand why the sport is called America’s pastime. People’s favorite complaint about the sport is its pacing — that it’s too slow and nothing really happens except for five percent of the game time. But really, it’s perfect to be put on the background while I cranked out a few Anki cards, most of the time with the volume off, and I’d look up every once in a while to catch a few at-bats. 

This slowly grew into a bit of an obsession. Every day at 3 p.m. Pacific Standard Time (the good thing about living on the West coast is that you never have to stay up late for sports), I’d put the Orioles game on, whether it’s at the gym, the library or on the commute home. It became therapeutic at some point to listen to the commentators blabber on about nothing and everything, to track each seemingly insignificant stat line, and, of course, to see Gunnar Henderson blast homer after homer. 

At some point it becomes unsatisfying to watch baseball on an 11-inch screen, and since the San Francisco Giants and the famous Oracle Park is just a 45-minute drive away, I felt obligated to make the pilgrimage. The stadium is famous for a reason — it offers a spectacular view of the San Francisco Bay, the garlic fries are the best in the world, and the sculptures and art around the outfield offer other forms of entertainment. There are truly no bad seats in the house. 

The game wasn’t particularly exciting (I think it ended 2–1), but I was there with my girlfriend, Charlie and a few other high school friends. Being at the game meant a lot more than just seeing how high the home team could run up the score — it was also a chance to catch up with old friends while having an incredible view in front of us. 

Don’t get me wrong, the Giants still put on a great show. There was a light show when the closer (final pitcher for the Giants) came out to the mound, and the fireworks went off after the last out. There is something about chanting “let’s go Giants” with thousands of other fans as we funneled out of the stadium down the massive ramps. 

Coming back to Baltimore with my newfound Orioles fandom, I had to make a trip down to Camden Yards — another top-ranked ballpark in the States. It’s a strange feeling to see the players whom I’ve been following all summer so close to me. Well, close is relative — with the cheap tickets that we bought, we were sitting closer to the sky than the field. 

But that’s one of the best things about baseball: you can easily get into a baseball game for $20, and on Friday nights there are special student offers for $12. That’s a fraction of a ticket to the Baltimore Ravens and much less work than traveling to Washington D.C. for the Wizards or the Capitals. This baseball season is coming to an end, and the post-season can get quite expensive. But when late March rolls around, grab some friends or a date and see what the birds have to offer. Go O’s!