Why baseball is better than having sex…

baseball -mascots2Oops. Seems I accidentally pressed the RETURN key on the Headline a bit too soon. My bad. What I meant to write was:

Why Baseball is better than having sextuplets.”

Frankly, do I really need to defend this position? I mean, seriously, who would rather parent six screaming babies than to go to the ballpark, watch a game, while scarfing down peanuts, a hot dog and a cold beer? Anybody?

I have loved baseball ever since I was a young child. I even named this humor blog View from the Bleachers in part as a nod to my favorite spectator sport. Baseball has long been called America’s pastime. The first baseball game was played way back in 1846. As any high school student today could tell you, that’s probably like maybe over 70 years ago.

Having grown up in Albany, NY, in the 1960s, listening on the radio in the 1960’s to the then dismal, cellar-dwelling New York Mets, I was hooked at an early age. I wanted to name our eldest daughter DiMaggio in honor of Joltin’ Joe. I tried to convince my wife her friends would call her Maggie, but I was overruled. So we named her Yastrzemski instead.

I know what many of you are thinking – baseball is the most boring sport imaginable. One detractor filmed a nine-inning baseball game and concluded that there were only 17 minutes of actual action in a typical 2.5 hour game. So before I give you all the compelling reasons why baseball is better than having sextuplets, let’s start with the opposing viewpoint.


Some people just don’t get the appeal of what has been called America’s Pastime. Here are some of the jaded complaints they level at this unique sport:

Baseball is deadly dull. It takes forever for anything to actually happen. It’s true, most city councils could pass a sales tax ordinance in less time than it takes a relief pitcher to warm up. To support their claim that the sport is a tad bit dull, below is a graph that breaks down the relative proportion of the time devoted to the most important aspects of a typical baseball game:

The baseball season is interminably long. It seems to last 12 months. Players report for Cactus League ball (pre-season) in early February, which runs through March. The season starts on April 1 and runs six months. The playoffs start in early October and wrap up with the World Series in mid-November – leaving a long stretch of almost 10 weeks where there is no baseball at all. No wait, I forgot about winter ball. Yeah, it’s pretty much year round.

Baseball teams have the lamest names. This criticism tends to be leveled in particular at minor league baseball teams or teams from yesteryear. Here is a small sampling of actual baseball team names throughout history (none of these are made up):

  • The Kalamazoo Kazoos
  • The New Haven Nutmegs
  • The Binghamton Bingoes
  • The Newburyport Clamdiggers
  • The Oswego Starchboxes
  • The Zanesville Kickapoos, and my own personal favorite
  • The Terre Haute Hottentots

Okay, so they have really lame names. But did you ever see the Clamdiggers in action during their heyday? Their starting rotation was nothing short of Clam-Tastic!

The endless announcer banter spouting obscure, meaningless baseball statistics. It’s true, baseball announcers tend to toss around obscure stats that simply baffle and annoy baseball haters like my wife. Here is a transcript of an actual broadcasters’ exchange during a recent Toledo Mud Hens game:

“You know, Brad, that the Mud Hens’ relief pitcher, Willie Walkabatta, leads the league in wild pitches in night games in which fewer than four runs have been scored when the opposing lineup has 5 or more right-handed Puerto Rican batters who grew up in homes without fathers.” 

“No, Earl, I did not know that. But did you know, Earl, that their second baseman, Freddy Foulsalot, is second in the league among left-handed batters with speech impediments in steals when there are less than two outs in stadiums with retractable roofs?” 

“Of course, Brad. Everyone knows that.” 

All the real team sports have game clocks. Baseball has no clock. What’s up with that? That’s because baseball is such an old sport it was invented before people could tell time. 

All those cheesy fan incentives to get people to come to the park. No sport comes close to baseball in their campy fan giveaways to pack people into the stands. You know the deal: “The first 5000 fans will get their own Alex Rodriguez bobble head.” (Personally, I prefer the pre-steroids A-Rod bobble head to the steroids edition.)

I once went to a minor league ball game in which they gave out free Groucho Marx nose glasses to every fan (true). Personally, I thought the Florida Marlins’ idea for Vuvuzela Night from a few years ago was a brilliant move. (Click here to listen to all the fun – and be sure to turn up your speakers for the full fun effect). But perhaps the Lebanon Pretzel Eaters (I swear I’m not making up that name) might have missed the mark with their Garter Snake Night., which resulted in an unexpected stampede. Probably should have thought that one through a bit longer. 

The Infield Fly Rule – Will SOMEONE please explain it to us? Sorry. Can’t help you there. Even scientists and academics are at a loss to explain what it is or why it was created.


Admittedly, baseball is not very sexy when you compare it to the thrills and crashes of NASCAR racing, the nail-biting tension of hockey, or the brute physicality of Lingerie Football. But it’s my sport. I love all the obscure statistics, the lame dancing mascots, the smell of roasted peanuts, the hackneyed bloopers reel, and all the corny traditions of this 170- year-old game.

And, yes, like all patriotic Americans outside the five boroughs of New York, I love to hate the Yankees.  I’ll continue to root for my hapless Seattle Mariners in their perennial, elusive quest for above-averageness. Do you know the last time the Mariners made it to the World Series? Sorry. That was a trick question. The Mariners have never been to the World Series. But their drought can’t match the Chicago Cubs. The last time the Cubbies won a World Series, I’m pretty sure Millard Fillmore (right) was president. 

So what do I love so much about baseball? Everything. Besides, it beats mowing the lawn, not to mention having sextuplets.

That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.

Tim Jones - Profile at Safeco - TinyPS:  If you enjoyed this week’s post, please let me know by sharing it on Facebook, posting a comment or giving it a Like.  I am so excited about this year’s Seattle Mariners. Pundits speculate the team has improved so much this year that they may remain in contention for post-season play well into May. 

Check out my latest humor book: YOU’RE GROUNDED FOR LIFE: Misguided Parenting Strategies That Sounded Good at the Time

© Tim Jones, View from the Bleachers 2013

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  • Published On Jun. 16, 2011 by TEJ

    1. The BobbleHead thing ALWAYS perplexes me Tim. I mean, isn’t there a better way to remember Honus Wagner and other greats then a statue that shakes its head up and down like a crack addict?

    2. TEJ

      Johnny, I can’t argue with you on this. However, you will never get me to part with my 1952 season Stan Musial bobble head. Now THAT, my friend, is priceless.

    3. Nope, do not get baseball at all, and never will. Still, to each his own.

    4. Drew Fisher

      Tim, as someone whose picture appears on the media pages of both the 1975 and 1976 New York Mets yearbooks, and who covered the 1986 World Series for NBC, I might be mistaken for a baseball authority, maybe even someone who grew up loving baseball. While I have acquired some knowledge about the game, my early association with it was invariably that of the last one chosen for any team I might have desired to play on. The nadir of my association with baseball came when I filled in for the sports director at WIP, a radio station in Philadelphia that now specializes in sports. I knew that the top story would be that afternoon’s Phillies home game against the Cubs. The first words of my first sportscast were, “At Connie Mack Stadium, after eight and a half innings, the Phillies lead the Cubs, 2 to 1.” An hour later, there still being no score to report from the bottom of the ninth, I went back on the air and said, “Still no score from the bottom of the ninth, but after eight and a half, the Phils were in front of the Cubs, 2 to 1.” Every phone in the radio station — and in the bank downstairs — was ringing when I waled out of the studio. The caller on the one I picked up sputtered, “You IDIOT! Don’t you know that if the home team is in front after eight and a half innings, THE GAME’S OVER?”

    5. TEJ

      Drew, I can see that you’re were truly a student of the game. Unfortunately, that game appears to have been Checkers, not baseball. Nice try.

    6. John Pickett

      Our beloved high school baseball coach, Hunky Dorewaldt, was a master of the game. When one of his players goofed up, he yelled some words of baseball wisdom his way. The player starteed to defend himself with the words, “I thought…” When Hunky cut him off and said, “DON’T THINK!”.

      Football may build character but baseball empties minds. My kind of sport.

    7. 6/18/11

      At the first baseball game I ever attended, the pitcher brushed back the batter several times, finally hitting him in the leg with a ball. Both dugouts immediately emptied as the teams rushed to the field and engaged in a huge brawl at the pitcher’s mound. I hollered, “This is GREAT!” And my (now ex) husband just laughed and said, “And it will never happen again.” Twenty games later, dragged by my ex (a baseball lover) from game to game, and to baseball fields up and down the West coast, I realized that he was right. For a nicely relaxing few hours, in which your heart beat drops to its resting rate, go to a baseball game.

    8. HSKoziol

      To quote the late, great George Carlin … in baseball, you get to go home.


    9. Betsy Jones

      I miss the Rose Bowl. Go Buckeyes!

    10. 4/30/16

      Good one.

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