Growing up in the early years of Major League Baseball in Atlanta, it was so easy to love. Teams had pitchers who could go the whole nine innings, hitters who could bunt and steal bases, and managers who could fire up an entire stadium by getting in the umpire’s face.
Now, in the age of replay reviews, a manager has to take his argument to New York, where a group of umps occasionally put their pizza aside to watch some video and determine if their colleagues missed a call.
Meanwhile, fans and TV viewers must watch the on-field umpires, hands on hips, headphones on ears, awaiting the decision. These long pauses provide ample time to get a sandwich, pour a drink, and take a bathroom break. At your local McDonald’s.
The art of bunting, once mastered by most big league players, is now a mystery to all but a few.
The days of a Maury Wills, Vince Coleman or Rickey Henderson stealing up to 130 bases each year are long gone. No player has stolen more than 46 since 2017.
Today, when a starting pitcher makes it through five long innings, he leaves the field to a standing ovation.
And most of them are too cool to tip their cap to the fans who pay their salary, which drives me crazy.
Speaking of the fans, I remember my dad making a three-hour trip to Atlanta back when I-75 was only 12 lanes in each direction, instead of the current 64. (I’m guessing, but I know I’m close).
This was when you could park your vehicle, pay for tickets, and buy your kids a hot dog, a Coke, and some ice cream for less than a down payment on a new boat.
Yes, the past always looks brighter when gazing into the rear-view mirror, but there’s no doubt that the Great American Pastime is passing some of us by.
Unlike the days of yore, most fans can now see all of their favorite team’s games on relatively low-cost cable networks. For now, anyway. Trust me, this won’t last.
Back in the three-channel era, it was not uncommon for the broadcast networks to show one game a week, almost always featuring the Yankees or Dodgers. (A Braves game was a rare sight until the 1980s era WTBS cable “superstation” days.) So if we wanted to see Hammerin’ Hank Aaron chase Babe Ruth’s home run record, we HAD to be there in person.
Yet fans still attend games today, especially in Atlanta. Attendance has been strong, even for the mediocre 2021 Braves team. The new ballpark, which should bear Aaron’s name along with its corporate sponsor, is beautiful, accessible, and surrounded by a fan plaza with shops and restaurants. The Braves may have made some questionable player decisions, but they built their ballpark the right way.
League-wide however, attendance has steadily declined in recent years. Between 2007 and 2019, attendance dropped 19 percent, or about 6,000 fans per game.
During the same period, attendance at Major League Soccer games shot up almost 50 percent.
Are baseball team owners concerned with those numbers? You bet they are.
The commissioner’s office is constantly tinkering with ways to “speed up” the game, in hopes of attracting and keeping young fans who seek action. It’s no mystery why soccer has stronger appeal to the video game generation.
Many baseball games are simply hard to watch. Sure, purists love to study the finer points of the pitcher’s delivery and the team’s defensive alignment, as the game lumbers on at its traditional leisurely pace.
But that pace has slowed to the level of a chess match. We are seeing fewer balls in play. During a typical 3 ½ hour game, there are precious few minutes of action.
Fans on their cell phones before the game against the Rangers. Photo by Matt Brown/Angels Baseball LP
Between each pitch, batters are readjusting their helmets and batting gloves, pitchers are staring into space before waiting on the fifth different sign from their catcher, and fans are scrolling through cute puppy pictures on Instagram.
Eventually, the batter either strikes out, walks, or hits a ground ball to a third baseman who is positioned in the right field grass. Before computers were invented, that ball would have been a hit. Now, anyone who has internet access knows there’s a 75% chance the batter will hit the ball to that spot. So why not put a fielder in that location? It’s smart baseball, but it is also boring baseball.
Recently I tried watching a Braves game at home, with my phone out of reach while I got comfy in the recliner. I slept from the 4th inning until the 7th inning, when announcer Chip Caray started yelling about a Freddie Freeman fly ball that would land in an outfielder’s glove far short of the fence. Well, it sounded like a home run.
Baseball is definitely not dead. But it sure could use a hip replacement.
I remember checking my youngest out of school to attend a Sounds game with one of my former students on the field after a long stay with Kansas City. During the game, we grabbed a seat just over the fence from the bullpen and talked to Bart throughout the game. Bart had his teammates sign a ball for Miles and they made a trip to the clubhouse for treats for all. We laughed, we talked, we visited an old friend and with players who became new friends and we had treats. Later the same year a trip to St. Louis took place. I was excited about taking Miles on the road for his first MLB game but Miles was crestfallen: No conversation, no treats, but most importantly, no relationship.
To me, nothing is as poetic as driving and listening to the stories on the radio, allowing time to stand still and building relationships. The “old salts” I grew to know around baseball told stories and invited me to share their world. I fear those relationships aren’t a priority for anyone anymore and that baseball might as well be a video game on a clock. If baseball is not an extension of “having a catch” in the backyard or experts playing Wiffle ball without a heavily taped bat, why bother?
As a lad growing up in Chattanooga in the 40 and 50’s baseball was truly our national past time. But is was all local, we had almost daily sandlot games in our neighborhoods, we had Joe Engel’s Knot hole league, where grammar school boys could play in a league and if your team was good enough at the end of the season you would get to play in the finals at Engel stadium, where if you could hit the ball over the infield dirt you would have a home run. Baseball was listening to Gus Chamberlain recreate a baseball game from a little ticker tape with very little information. Gus, with sound effects and all would make it sound as if he and you were actually at the game. Baseball for me was selling 6 oz. cokes out of a pail and getting paid by MS Ruby Williams at the end of the game. You might make a dollar. Baseball was the Chattanooga Lookouts, The Birmingham Barons, the Nashville Vols, the Memphis Chicks, the New Orleans Saints and others who’s names escapes me at the moment. The only national team we cared much about was the Washington Senators, that is where our good players went when they went to the big leagues, the Lookouts were a part of their farm club. Baseball was being able on a rare occasion to sit in the Grand Stand with you dad and here him talk about the manager using “strategy” wow that was big word for a 7 year old. Dad explained that our manager was out thinking our opponents manager. The Braves were still in Milwaukee of somewhere up north. Joe Engel was Mr. Baseball in Chattanooga, and one of the greatest promoters of the game known to man then and even now. He even had a restaurant called the Home Plate. Baseball was fun for this young lad from Chattanooga. I actually played in the Knot hole league, we didn’t have uniforms or anything like that, we had a daddy who was our manager, we had our own bats and gloves. I think the baseballs were supplied by Mr. Engel. Finally it was seeing Don Grate hit a baseball over the big fence in left field. Watching Charlie “snake eyes” Lettues (sp) playing third base. And some guy named Don Lawson hit home runs. Oh yeah the Rifleman, Chuck Connors played for the Lookouts at one time I was told. Play ball. Now remember this is coming from the memory of an 83 year old. So tread lightly as you correct. JL
Good read David. You’re spot on. Baseball was my first love growing up in the secluded woods of northern Minnesota. My portable radio was with me every night during the summer months. On the lake fishing, listening to Herb Carneal call the Twins games. Harmon Killebrew hit a home run, as did Don Mincher, in the first game I ever attended in the Twin Cities. Interviewing Killebrew as a professional broadcast journalist remains my greatest professional thrill. Magical.
Fast forward. Here we sit. As the game has evolved into a strike out/home run snooze-fest. All or nothing.
The game is dying a slow death. When you’ve lost fans like me, I guarantee you, you’re in trouble. Very unfortunate.
Third baseman in right field. That’s all you need to know………
Thanks for reading,
Staley