Personal essays
On looking for and understanding the signs around you.
Casuals
Katie Nolan has a podcast for casual sports fans. She and two of her producers know a lot about sports but they make the show accessible to a casual sports fan. One of her producers is a sports newbie. You can slowly hear this person get more invested and knowledgeable.
I’ve definitely moved in the other direction.
When I was younger I knew the rosters of dozens of teams in multiple sports. I read box scores and commentary on a bunch of games each day and spent countless hours listening to games and sports talk on the radio and watching games on television or in person.
My baseball team, the Cleveland Guardians, have made it to the playoffs again this year and beat the Chicago White Sox in a best of five series to go on to the American League Championship Series.
I say “my team”, but two weeks ago I couldn’t have named more than half a dozen players and didn’t know that Steven Kwan had moved from left field to center.
A lot of the business end of sports turned me off. I don’t want, and can’t justify, paying for all of the streaming services I would need just to follow a single team in a single sport.
And yet I remain a casual fan who enjoys watching a game now and then and will tune in for the playoffs.
Stop signs
The Cleveland - Chicago series was unusual. The visiting team won each of the first four games. After being down two to nothing, Cleveland came back to win three games in a row to go on.
So Saturday night I turned on the fifth and deciding game. The announcers were treating us to all the usual cliches - “it’s a win or go home game.” Yes, I know what that means, but I’m betting even the winning team is going home tonight.
Anyway, both pitchers are looking good. The Guardians are up two nothing on a hit by Steven Kwan followed by a home run by Jose Ramirez. On the radio, hall-of-fame announcer Tom Hamilton knows how to pronounce Jose but he affectionately calls him Hosey.
Unfortunately, I’ve got the television sound on so I’m treated to more cliches about Ramirez putting the team on his back with home runs two nights in a row.
Then a young kid comes up. I’m only a casual fan so I don’t recognize him.
He smacks the ball hard. You can hear the ball come off his bat and just sail to the deep outfield. Is it gone? No, it drops inside the park and the batter is halfway to second.
Cool. A double. That should get things going.
But the kid decides he’s going to try to get to third base.
“Wait Daniel,” you say, “isn’t there someone whose job it is to tell him to stop at second?”
Why yes there is. And the third base coach has both arms up in a signal that even a casual fan could decipher as meaning “Stop”.
The kid doesn’t stop.
From my coach I yell at the screen, “stop.”
The kid ignores me too. Fair enough. I’m only a casual fan. I don’t know him - he certainly doesn’t know me.
The kid gets thrown out at third.
Reacting
Sometimes there’s no one there to give us signals.
Not in a game - I’m talking about real life now.
Sometimes there are signals and we just don’t see them.
Sometimes there are signals but we don’t understand what’s being expressed.
There’s the classic scene from the sitcom Taxi where Jim is taking a written test for his driver’s license. The gang has accompanied him there for support. He comes to a question he doesn’t understand and asks, “what do you do when you come to a yellow light?”
The gang says, “slow down.”
I don’t know if Jim misses the signal or doesn’t understand it but he nods and says much more slowly, “whaaaaat do you doooo when you come to a yellow liiiiiiight?”
The gang again says, “slow down.”
Jim is undaunted and slows down some more.
Sometimes you get a second chance.
I’m talking about real life - but also in the game.
A couple of innings later the kid was back up at the plate. And again he connected and sent the ball deep into the outfield.
Again, he was halfway to second before the outfielder was close to the ball.
Again, the third base coach had both hands up to stop him.
Again, I yelled from my couch.
The camera later panned over the Guardians’ dugout and his teammates were standing with their hands out in front signaling stop.
He stopped.
Essay from Dim Sum Thinking Newsletter 342. Read the rest of the Newsletter or subscribe