Take them out of the ballgame

 

Yes, I am a dinosaur. This makes me no less cute, adorable or fossilized, and yet, no more, either. I like things the way they are and am a proud Crabby Old Man.” TM, no doubt.

The object of my most recent cantankerousness (ness) is baseball.

I’m a fan of the game and if you read Shoeless Joe by Kinsella, you will understand why. The geometry of the game with its foul lines heading off into eternity. The exactness of the distances and yet the variability of the various fields. The marathon which is also a sprint of a season, with each pitch being both ultimately inconsequential and yet having the entire season riding on it. The fact that seasoned vets, having watched thousands of games over the years still say, at least once each season “I’ve never seen that before.”

I know that some rules have changed. The height of the mound, adding more games to the season, night games, and reducing the number of balls leading to a walk from 9 to 4, yes, the game has evolved but there are some rule changes that have been introduced recently, and some which are on the horizon, and I don’t like ‘em by gum! So, I shall take a moment to list and explain why they are stupid and should be eliminated. [for the record, I’m against the designated hitter in both leagues – the 9 players on offense play defense and vice versa, also, no aluminum bats…I just hate ‘em]

COVID introduced 2 rules that I can recount off the top of my head:

1.   1.   Double headers are 7 inning games – this was to keep players off the field for the 8^th and 9^th innings of double headers, historically known as “the widowmaker innings.” No, they weren’t and the rule makes no sense. Fortunately, now that we are only wrestling with a variety of other diseases, games are back to the full 9 inning complement.

2.  2.   The automatic runner starting each inning in extra innings – a horrible rule. It screws with every bit of integrity in baseball. There are many ways to get on base in baseball. Why are we adding another one? To speed games along by introducing dishonesty? It puts pressure on the pitcher and means that 2 well placed sacrifices get a run across with no real success and effort by the team to get the guy on second. There are many other problems with it that I’m sure the pundits have pontificated about and I leave it to them, on the condition that they agree with me. I hate this rule and the horse it rode in on. I hope it goes the way of the 7 inning game.

Here are some others I have heard – some may be actually on the way and some might just be rumors and suggestions.

3. 3.   Not allowing the shift (or some other defensive configuration). I have never fully understood rules about illegal formations in football so I haven’t developed a suitably angry response, but when it comes to baseball, a team should have the right to put its players wherever it sees fit. Stacking the right side opens of the left and that’s a risk the manager chooses. Playing a short outfield based on scouting is perfectly reasonable. If you want to get a hit, teach your hitters to hit against type.

4. 4.   Rules about the number of batters a pitcher must face. This is designed to stop managers from putting a pitcher in for a single batter. But what’s wrong with that? You put in the guy you need to get this out and then you put in someone else if you want. The roster is yours to use however you want and if that means that in the 14^th inning, you have a position player come in and pitch or you run out of players because you burned through pinch hitters, then so be it. The question about whether you can flip a pitcher with a position player who also is a pitcher and then back (repeatedly?) in order to exploit the righty-lefty issue with batters is an interesting wrinkle. It means 2 pitchers having to bat, and the possibility that either one, on the mound or in the field is a weak link. That’s the game.

5.5.   The automatic intentional walk. You declare that you want to walk the batter and off he goes. This eliminates the risk of wild pitches, surprise steals, poorly thrown pitches that the batter can reach. It destroys playing the game and pretends that there are foregone conclusions. There aren’t.

6.   6. I have heard that the minor leagues are futzing with rules about how many times a pitcher can throw over to a base to check a base runner. After a couple of throws, any throw which doesn’t get the runner out either leads to a free base or a ball for the batter. Dumb. Baseball is often about unforced mistakes. If the pitcher keeps throwing over and then muffs a throw, that’s the risk. If a batter is finally kept closer to the bag so he can’t go first to third, that’s the game. There is a psychology to holding runners (and baiting pitchers). No foregone conclusions. Let the game happen.

7.   7.  A pitch clock. Baseball isn’t a game on a clock. Does this mean that things can lag? Yes, but some pitchers need the moments between pitches to compose themselves, rethink the situation or agree on a sign. Giving an automatic ball to the batter is ridiculous – it isn’t earned. This isn’t speed chess. And conversely, a batter who steps out too often, or stays out might get an automatic strike added. Uncool. The tempo is part of the mind-game.

 

I don’t know if there are other rules that I have missed or that are pending but I have no doubt that I don’t approve of them.

A Third random Torah thought!

 So to follow up on 

https://rosends.blogspot.com/2014/08/a-random-torah-thought.html

and

https://rosends.blogspot.com/2022/05/another-random-torah-thought.html

I had another thought.

Maybe the statements about happiness point to something even more basic. We know that we say in Shabbos morning davening "yismach Moshe b'mat'nat chelk" that Moshe will be happy with the giving of his portion.

We also know that Pirkei Avos teaches that the one who is happy is happy with his "portion."

Same word. Chelek. But I thought about that word a little this morning and here's something -- there is a well known mishna in the beginning of the 11th chapter of the talmud, tractate Sanhedrin which describes that

Kol yisra'el yesh lahem chelek l'olam haba (though I should probably do some research as to why it says "l'olam" and not "b'olam")

all Israel has a portion in the world to come. Though the chapter discusses the few exceptions to this, the point is that simply by dint of being a "yisrael" one has that portion (I should probably look up why it says "Yisrael" and not "Yehudi").

So we all have a chelek set out for us and therefore, we can all, if we understand that we should be satisfied simply being alive as part of Yisrael, reach the same level of happiness, simcha, as Moshe, and this will be the definition of being ashir, rich. The key is to be comfortable being who we are and that's it!

I'm sure one with more magic in his words could spin this even further. When the muse descends, I shall take another look.

Missing opportunities

 

It isn’t as much about being wanted as it is about being missed. Sure, it is nice to have someone say “Hey, I’m having a party and I want you to be there” and it isn’t even about similar praise to a third party (“I’m having a party and I really hope Dan can be there”)

It is about being missed. That at the party, in the moment, even with all the other sources of amusement or distraction, the person says, “Gee, I miss Dan” and afterwards, when recounting to that third party, the person says “I wish Dan had been there – I really missed his absence.”

We appreciate the mail that solicits our business, but we relish the one sent after we cancel that says “we hate to see you go.” And part of it is, we didn’t have to remind the mailer that we weren’t subscribed anymore. The mailer, UNPROMPTED, misses us. No one has to walk over and say “gee, it would have been great if Dan had been there” to get the host to agree. The host can’t get it out of his mind, on his own, that Dan was missed. Every day, all the time, he remembers a missed opportunity. He has regrets and concerns and everything else is tinged with that.

Look, I love Israel and Jerusalem and the notion of biblical theocracy sits just fine with me but right now, that is just based in “want” and don’t get me wrong – that’s really important. That’s what drives us forward so we can make our “wants” happen.

They say, “you never know what you got till it’s gone” (Yes, I’m quoting Mike & the Mechanics) and maybe that’s true, but the real sad part is that we often forget that it’s gone or assume it will come back so we don’t get that ache of missing.

Now, in relative safety and protection, with good jobs, strong communities and kosher pizza, we are able to make our wants happen. You want a mikvah? Boom…mikvah. And if we talk spiritual wants? Well, we want Moshiach now, right? And yes, we do mitzvot, and we keep that bag packed and we study the laws of the temple and its sacrifices, keeping track of our local Kohen and Schwartz. But want is not enough.

So at the height of our joy, we step on the glass – why? Because we have to remind ourselves not of what we want – that’s what weddings are all about, actualizing want – but because we need to remember what we miss. So we install an external, a reminder, a prompt so we can feel a little sad amidst our happiness. We also take a day and remind ourselves also of what we miss. Of how our lives are actually incomplete.

But the real goal? Remembering that we are missing every day – not just on the day we fast, but even while we are eating our pizza. Not just when I have to sit on the floor and not listen to music, but when I’m enjoying standing by my floor seat at a concert. And not just when we have an external reminder, but all the time.

The loss of the temple and our autonomy is present in our davening, our holiday rituals and in our daily lives (just ask those people who do anything Zecher L’Churvban). Why are we so focused on it? Not just because we have to see what we are working for, but because we have to make it a constant fact that we are really missing something and since we know Moshiach isn’t coming right now, I have to feel sad right now. Every right now.

May we all reach the point of missing the temple without having to be reminded.

This is what I'm like when I relax

 

Dear Sigmund, via Sidney,

I haven’t been worrying as much recently and I can’t tell if that is because I’m learning to worry less or that I simply have fewer things to worry about recently. Now, I know that the response to that, especially the latter part is that “if you are serious about your worrying, you will find something to worry about regardless of the reality.” I’m not sure if that’s true. I DO have things to worry about but they are categorically different from the usual cycle of worry that I have perfected over the last 25+ years. All the professional worries (I am, you see, a professional worrier) that are endemic to the summer are not as soul-crushing this summer, either because I am mastering the summer (and its parts) better or because I have set lower goals so I have less pressure.

And, yes, I have supplemented the standard complement of things I worry about with a revue of all new material. Fortunately, I am the father of two humans who present me with more to worry about than I know what to do with (something I also, then, worry about). You’d think that, as I can’t shake a stick at the volume of things to worry about, that I would be my usual bundle of frayed nerves. Frayed? Not. But am I worrying less because I have grown into someone who takes more things in stride (evidenced by my being able, albeit occasionally, to sleep through the night)? Or is it that they are not giving me the same quantity and quality of concerns that I have grown to know, love and expect? Because when I stop and count my stressings there do seem to be ample opportunities for some expert level, stomach turning problems.

The familiar (by this time familial) butterflies have alit for the time being and I’m borderline concerned that I am not concerned. The world is still on fire and, no, this is not fine. While I have no travel plans, others do and vicarious worry is at least 80% as effective as first-person worry (according to a recent study that I just invented). I still have aches, pains and all the mystery troubles that men of a certain age have to look forward to (including my propensity for ending sentences with a preposition or two). Work still looms large in my front view mirror and the bank has not taken a holiday nor have my bills been postponed. Is it possible that I am mellowing? My sense is that that isn’t the case because when push comes to shove, I still end up on the floor in fetal position. My quota of indignation is consistently filled and people still point out to me that my obsession with being obsessed is a raging success.

Is this a matter of reigning in neuroses or having to look deeper for fish to fry?