Why Baseball?
I love to play baseball. I dream about flying across the outfield tracking down fly balls. There’s not much on a sporting field that compares to the feeling when you truly barrel a ball. When the ball is hit to you, or you’re standing in the batter’s box, it is a purely individual pursuit. Nobody can make the play for you. But at the same time success takes nine guys being ready every pitch to perform their role. It is both intensely individual but also deeply team-oriented. It truly encapsulates everything great about sports.
But I care about baseball as more than a sport. My men’s league baseball team is my highest recreational and social priority during the season. People laugh at how seriously I take it. How much it bothers me when we lose. I know I’m paying to play in the league. I know I’m not even particularly good in this league, much less one that matters. What follows is why I care; not because it’s baseball, but because it brings meaning to my life.
The Cost of Caring
Committing to the pursuit of a goal helps you grow as an athlete, but also as an individual. In the grand scheme of my life, losing an adult baseball league game means nothing. But saying “whatever, it’s just a men’s league” every time something does not go your way is simply sheltering yourself from failure. Care enough that it frustrates you. Care enough that you feel the burn when you fall short. It takes guts to say “this matters to me” because if you fail, there’s nothing to fall back on. However, it also works the other way. When you succeed it is all the more satisfying. And one of the coolest things about life is that you are allowed to assign your own value to accomplishments. Is it a little silly that I care so much about a men’s baseball league? Maybe, but that allows me to truly feel the ups and downs of the season rather than protecting myself from disappointment. Allow yourself to feel disappointment. Embrace the embarrassment of failure. Because the victory will be that much sweeter.
Dreaming Local
I don’t care about it as something to boost my status, or as something that controls my self worth. Baseball is a tool to make and deepen connections with those around me. I’m never going to affect the world with my baseball skills. But I can certainly affect those around me. Committing to this team is committing to the guys on this team. When I was a kid, I wanted to play in the MLB. I thought the world was going to watch me play baseball. I dreamed big. Now, I see the value in dreaming local. This team and this league has created a community using baseball to bring people together. I can make an impact on that community. I can be a great teammate, and receive support from my teammates in return. I take this team seriously to prove to my teammates that I take them seriously.
Nonchalance is the enemy of connection.
The same walls that protect me from failure are insulation from forming relationships with my teammates. I’m trying to embed myself deeper in the web of humanity. If being vulnerable enough to say “I want to win this badly” scares me, there’s no way I’m vulnerable enough to create a genuine connection with my teammates. Caring deeply is how you participate in the lives of others. Baseball matters because the people matter.
It's Cool to Care
After all the justification for caring, it’s still a recreational baseball league at the end of the day. That’s kind of the point. We all get to decide what is worthy of our time and attention. For me, choosing to care deeply about things in front of me has brought a sense of peace. This is enough. I do not need anything else to be happy. My childhood self would probably be a little disappointed I didn’t make it to the MLB. I’ve grown up a bit since then. I can live a meaningful life playing in “just” a men’s league. It’s cool to care. In fact, it might even be necessary.