Why I Love Baseball

Baseball is America's national pastime, even though it hasn't been its favorite sport since the 1960s, way before I was born. But the history lingers and endures. That history is part of why I love baseball.

I grew up a Yankees fan in Connecticut. Why were we Yankees fans? It was probably due to geography but it’s possible my family was just bandwagoners. They were, and still are, the team with the most World Series wins. Of course, my paternal great grandfather did live in New York in the late 1910s and early 1920s so it is possible he got to see Babe Ruth play, fell in love with the Bronx Bombers, and instilled that love into my grandfather when he was a boy. Whatever the reason, my family was still Yankees fans when I was growing up in the 90s.

My early baseball memories are hazy but I clearly remember watching on TV as Charlie Hayes caught the final out in foul territory to end the 1996 World Series, securing their first championship since 1978. I was overjoyed as a 9 year old when my favorite player, Tino Martinez, won the Home Run Derby in 1997*. And when I was 10 the Yankees put together one of the best seasons of all time.

*His nickname was Bamtino after Babe Ruth aka the Great Bambino. When Jason Giambi replaced Martinez in 2002, they called him Giambino. I’m glad they stopped trying to force that nickname on everyone.

Joe Posnanski said baseball is best when you're 10 years old. For me, that was 1998. The thing I remember most about that season was the Yankees getting off to an 0-3 start on the West Coast and telling my friends at the park that maybe the Yanks weren’t going to be very good that year. Boy, was I wrong. The Yankees won the most games in American League history up until that point, going 114-48, and winning the World Series in 4 games.

When I was 9, I played Little League. I think our team nickname was the Rockies because I remember our jerseys being purple. I was terrible; a fat kid who couldn’t hit or field. I mostly played third base and left field, and batted near the bottom of the lineup. I was also a terrible runner but that led to one of my favorite memories.

I was somehow on second base; how I got there is no longer important. The batter put the ball in play and my coach was waving me around third. I ran as fast as my pudgy little legs could carry me, so excited about the possibility of scoring I forgot how to slide. That was okay because players in the big leagues didn’t always slide into home, right? I barreled into the catcher because that's what they did on TV, the ball popped loose, and scored. Or so I thought. Turns out you can’t just barrel into the catcher in Little League*. I was ruled out.

*You can’t do that in MLB anymore either.

I don’t have a card from that first ‘97 season but I do have one from the ‘98 season. I was chubbier and playing for the Marlins. It is one of my wife’s favorite possessions and it sits on a stand in our living room. She loves baseball too and that card, despite being from long before we met, is part of the reason why.

As an adult, I played one season in an adult softball league. I was still terrible but a little less fat. Plus, I got to wear my socks high. I don’t think I got on base more than once in the few games I played but I did do something I’d always dreamed about: a no-look scoop to end an inning. I was playing third because that’s my natural position. I had no reason to be confident, no reason to believe in my defensive ability. Still, I pulled it off. I can’t fully put into words the joy I felt but that indescribable feeling is why I love baseball.

That league was in Philadelphia. It was kind of a novelty for me and I love baseball for its novelty factor. The Phillies had a Dollar Dog Night, selling hot dogs for one dollar. I loved eating cheap hot dogs even though they weren’t that great and I never ordered more than two or three. I love sitting way up behind home plate and sitting in section 420 even though I didn’t smoke. I love that it was cancelled in 2024 because Phillies fans couldn’t stop themselves from throwing them at each other. It doesn’t get more Philly than that.

When I was a kid, Babe Ruth was a big deal, though he had been dead for 50 years at that point. In 2025, he is still the gold standard for baseball players. Even though baseball is no longer king, everybody knows the name Babe Ruth aka the Great Bambino and the Sultan of Swat.

Here in Japan, though, baseball is king. The atmosphere at the stadium feels like a party or a festival, with coordinated singing and cheering. High school baseball is as popular and important as high school football in Texas, with the Koshien tournament offering relief from the dog days of summer. And from Japan came the modern Babe Ruth. Shohei Ohtani is everywhere*, from the side of vending machines to the side of buildings, inside train cars and shopping malls. ** I love that baseball is everywhere.

*After Lars Nootbaar played for Samurai Japan during the 2023 World Baseball Classic, he too was everywhere.

**Yes, shopping malls are still a thing here in Japan. And they’re thriving.

View of the field at ZOZO Marine Stadium in Chiba.

How everywhere is everywhere? Batting cages are common in Tokyo. I have only been once since moving here. It was in Shinjuku, in Kabukicho, Tokyo’s so-called red-light district. My Japanese ability, not all that great now, was still undeveloped. I was with a friend who didn’t speak English. She paid, and motioned for me to enter the cage. I didn’t want to go first but I couldn’t say no.

I picked up a bat, went inside, and set up at the plate. She made a noise that was a mix of confusion and surprise. The first ball almost hit me. Was the machine broken? Did I do something wrong? Do cages in Japan come with a heightened danger factor?

Then it dawned on me. It was a cage for right-handed batters. I am right-handed but bat lefty because of the great Bamtino. I tried switching sides, hoping to make it work. It would have taken a miracle for me to make contact. After sheepishly flailing two times, she mercifully offered to finish out the remaining balls for me.

How can you not love baseball?