Reese Kaplan -- Why We Love Baseball

One of the oft-debated topics among baseball fans is the prospect of long ball vs. small ball.  No one can deny the thrill of watching a batter’s prodigious slugging result in a ball off in orbit, landing well beyond the fence.  Then there’s the “will he or won’t he” thrill of watching an outfielder rush full steam towards the wall, leaping and extending his glove to try to keep the would-be homer in the ballpark and converted to an out.  Finally, there’s the straight away to centerfield or crushed to the opposite field types of long balls that are seldom hit and surely worth attention.  No one can deny the great pleasure of watching this type of game.

Yet there are fans who also cherish the perhaps even greater thrills of small ball.  These instances would include watching the baserunner attempt to beat the throw from the fielder.  Or it could be that all-too-rare occurrence of a stolen base attempt.  Who could ever forget the unworldly moment when a runner on third breaks for home and gets in under the late and surprised tag attempt by the catcher?  What about the hit and run, the hit against the shift, the double play, the TRIPLE play?  What about the runner being gunned down at the plate trying to stretch a sprint from 1^st or 2^nd into a go-ahead run?

The same principles apply to pitching.  Yes, everyone loves to watch the strikeout kings like Justin Verlander, Chris Sale, Max Scherzer, Clayton Kershaw and even our own Jacob deGrom.  There’s nothing more impressive than watching a batter flair helplessly at a powerful ball too fast for his swing or too precisely placed to make string contact.  Yet it’s equally thrilling to see a guy with a funky pitch or delivery that seems eminently hittable but batters routinely hit weakly if at all.  Guys like Tom Glavine, Charley Hough, John Franco and R.A. Dickey had that ability. 

Another unsung hero is the late inning substitution, whether it’s in the field, on the base paths or pinch hitting.  How many times could you see opposing pitchers and catchers break into a sweat when Eddie Kranepool, Rusty Staub or others who excelled in moments of heroism get the call to make it to first base or to advance the existing baserunner?   What about the glove-only guys like Juan Lagares who would come in during the 7^th or 8^th inning and then make a spectacular catch in the gap or throw to the plate to nail a runner?

When the games return, we’ll all have our pet privileges of fandom to appreciate, but it’s the totality of all of them that exceeds the sum of the parts.  You can’t win without power, without small ball, without effective pitching nor without late inning dramatics.  It’s hard to say from game to game who will be the hero and who will become the goat.  However, missing baseball entirely all this time will make that experience even sweeter when it returns.