The Boys of Summer (Nothing Gay)

John Gay, self-professed nerd here. I’ve admitted as much before– I’m a trivia-playing, karaoke-singing, Lord-of-the-Rings-quoting nerd. Suffice it to say I never played sports as a child. In high school I lettered in debate. I know nothing about sports. During trivia at O’Corley’s I depend on my team mates to cover that subject. I cover obscure eighties television shows and nineties one-hit wonders.

Watching me play Madden ’09 is like watching a quadruple amputee play pin the tail on the donkey, both sad and hilarious. I don’t understand the plays or the positions. I don’t know a nickel zone from a nickel back, a blitz from a wide receiver, though that last one sounds a bit gay. I wouldn’t know how to handle a blitz from a wide receiver or a tight end for that matter. That's not mentioning the complex scoring system nor the extravagant end zone rituals.

Marathons I get– running the fastest to the finish line. But that’s not a sport, its exercise. If running is a sport then so are jumping jacks.

There is one sport I do understand– baseball. When I was little we had country cable– also known as broadcast television. Where are my manners? I forgot that most of you are too young to know that archaic term. Broadcast television is what we watched before cable, satellite and the internet. People used to put antenna arrays on their roofs to receive radio transmissions. In the country only four or five stations came in, usually CBS, FOX, NBC, PBS and occasionally ABC or UPN. Summer nights when I was a kid were spent watching baseball on one of these stations.

Finally I discovered a sport I could understand. The rules are so simply elegant– hit the ball, run the bases, score a point. Every position is named logically– the pitcher pitches, the catcher catches, the pinch hitter walks up and down the bullpen pinching the hitters. They don’t like it but they respect that he’s doing his job. The only position whose name throws me a little is short stop. Do I have to stop, if only briefly, as I pass this player? Do I wave to the short stop, say hello, or simply nod? Am I obliged to engage him in conversation as I round first? “Lovely weather we’re having!”

I even like baseball movies. Other than Varsity Blues I’ve never seen a sports movie I liked. No, not Rudy. Not even Radio, and that had Cuba Gooding Junior going full tard. But I haven’t seen a bad baseball movie yet. Other than Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and Waterworld only one Kevin Costner movie does not feel like a case of douche– Field of Dreams. The secret to making this movie an classic? Three words: James Earl Jones. Put him in the flick and it’s instant gravy. Tom Selleck’s character in Mr. Baseball has a great one-liner– “Got any naked pictures of your wife? Wanna see some?”

To me the funniest is Baseketball. Sorry, Bull Durham. Baseketball comes from Matt Stone and Trey Parker of Team America/ South Park fame. If you haven’t seen any of their live action work this is a great one to start with, if only for the nude locker room scene with Matt and Trey. Don’t freak out, prudes, you don’t see anything. It’s what you don’t see that’s hilarious.

I don’t mean to imply that I’ll be watching baseball by choice. I just realize that in the bar it will be on and since I at least understand it I can appreciate it more as a sport, as a cultural phenomenon and as a metaphor for consensual sex. You know, rounding third… sliding into home. SAFE! Try that with football.