I wrote a post last week recapping what I had done for the previous two weeks because it felt like the appropriate time to share what exactly I have been up to. That wasn’t to say it was the first post I’ve written about my experiences in Germany, but rather a good summary of the goings on thus far; one that reminded me I’ve been doing something that not everyone in the world gets a chance to do.
In reading back through my writing while I’ve been here, I undersold my perspective. Baseball has moved from America’s pastime to a global game. This is most evident in the World Baseball Classic, but the WBC is still dominated by the same countries who citizenry traditionally populates MLB rosters–it doesn’t feel global. But I’ve found evidence of baseball since my first week here in Germany. Those of you who have played the game, been in the clubhouse, and understand that baseball is more than a stat sheet or a game played for 9 innings, will find joy in what follows. (I hope.)
This was written after my first few days in Germany, a couple months ago now:
Some time ago, Max wrote about the globalization of baseball. He wrote of the increased interest in the Japanese Major Leagues and of the Cuban League that has been competitive for nearly 60 years; both leagues thrive in their respective countries where baseball has become King, and both boast some of the world’s top talent. Still, I’ve come to Germany, a country dominated by soccer and one that is at least a 9 hour plane ride from any place where baseball is “King,” to coach and play this fine sport. I was a little wary–not just of the talent on the field (something that I still know nothing about thanks to a steady rain that apparently hasn’t abated all spring), but of the culture around the sport. Baseball is a great game because of the tactics and strategy of each at-bat, inning, and game, but I love it for more than the mental grind. I love baseball largely because of the camaraderie and friendships that arise while playing alongside my teammates. It’s something that I believe is unique to the sport (a sentiment brought to my attention by a Vassar track star, actually). Sure, I’m probably a bit sentimental as I’ve just recently played my last college game, but really, the dugout conversations and the snark on the diamond must be unique to a sport with so much downtime.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit concerned that I would be trying to coach a bunch of soccer players how to play baseball. I don’t think I will be.
“You’ll see. We’re just a bunch of idiots.”
Those words were spoken to me on my ride from the airport and the guy who said them had no idea how refreshing and welcome they were to me. Whether it was growing up with a mix of actual idiots and some smart kids on the diamond, or at “an elite liberal arts institution in the hills of the Hudson Valley,” baseball players have always been idiots. Smart kids who stumble into some common sense sometimes, but complete idiots.
My first night here, I was treated to a “bar-be-que” by the field. I was asked to bring a new catcher’s mitt over from the US to save on shipping costs and given that both of the team’s catchers were also at this BBQ, it was the perfect opportunity to bring a present. You know when you get a new bicycle when you’re 6 and you want to sleep with it in your bed and sit on it as you watch TV and turn mom down for the 8 mile ride to school because “you’ll just bike it”? Yeah. The new mitt went from hand to hand, cheek to cheek (as they rubbed the fresh leather against their faces), and quickly a game a catch was sparked.
After the steaks and chicken were finished and a few beers imbibed, we subconsciously migrated onto the field. With a plastic youth glove that had been spray-painted green, I manned third base and we tossed the ball around the diamond for nearly an hour. Nothing was really said, and I’m sure that at some points, I was being judged (for my throws over the fence or funky throwing motion), but that didn’t matter; nothing really needed to be said. These were baseball players having a few beers and a catch.
Later in the night, as a day game on the west coast started, a guy’s phone beeped. It was the At Bat app (the one associated with MLB.TV) and it was letting him know that the A’s and Giants were about to start. That’s great. Later, something was said in German and I made out that one team was up 5-2 on the other. That news elicited a giant middle finger and a few laughs.
It’s the small things like that that let you know you’re among baseball players. From smelling your new leather all night or playing catch a few beers deep, to ribbing your friend about the score to his team’s games or just being a person who actually has the AtBat app, it’s what baseball players do.
I said last night that The Container–a place that functions as part clubhouse, part concession stand, part umpire changing room, and part pub–reminded me of home. I don’t think the Germans realized the compliment that I was paying them.
What I’m trying to say is that baseball has been globalized. It’s not just the game that is on the field or the popularity of the sport in Country “X.” Baseball is in Germany. In the attitude, athletes, snark and passion, it’s here.
Stay tuned for what I have to say after I see these guys on the field….
-Sean Morash
Stat of the Day: Michael Wacha retired his first 13 batters last night in his Cardinals debut. (I told you this was written a while ago.)
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