(FYI: This is not a sports post.)
On one hot muggy afternoon last week, I climbed into the stands for yet another baseball doubleheader. Such is not a rare occurrence. With three teenage boys — two who have played summer ball since the age of six — my inexact estimation is that they have been involved in an approximate total of 726 games these past dozen years. Sweating profusely in the summer stands is, well, just a part of the game.
What was unique about this day, however, was an observation made shortly after our arrival…
Typical of competitive teams, we are expected to arrive 60-75 minutes prior to the game’s starting time. In tournament play, there are often teams on the field, still in the middle of their game. Our team then stretches and swings and tosses and trains in an adjacent area, prepping for the game.
And so when I crawled sweatily in the stands, I was able to watch two teams I had never seen play before. I actually had never heard of them nor knew anything about their prowess or potential. In other words, I had zero predetermined opinions about the opposing teams. It was amazing how that affected my perspective.
(Remember: This is not a sports post.)
The game was tight… intense, perhaps — as judged by the emotion expressed both on the field and in the stands. It was a one run game, edging into the late innings. Then came the play that prompted my observation.
A speedy player on the yellow team stroked a great hit to the gap in right center. After rounding second, he decided to attempt to turn his easy double into a more advantageous triple. Watching all unfold, my immediate sense was that such was a poor decision (…however, for the record, no one asked for my opinion 🙂 ).
The fielder’s throw was excellent and online; these were two capable teams who made very few errors. As I expected, the ball beat the runner to the base. There was only one problem: the third baseman tagged the runner above the waist; infielders are taught to tag the runner low, so that the runner is unable to slide under the tag. The fortuitous runner was called “safe.”
Sitting amidst the red and black team — the team who was attempting to tag the runner out — let me just say they became a little verbose… quite loud, actually. Said the woman to my back right, “The ball beat him there! There’s no way he could be safe!” The clatter and cursing and screams at the umpire continued for some time, increasing in intensity, especially when the yellow team went on to score three more runs.
My observation was fascinating. Remember that I hadn’t made up my mind beforehand who was the better team. I hadn’t predetermined who should win. And so whether the runner was safe made no difference to me; there was nothing of me invested. I could thus assess the situation with an objectivity that I instantly realized was lacking in the stands.
It was clear that the runner was safe. The ball did beat him there. And while all the red and black team’s fans watched their third baseman apply the tag, what they missed was the runner’s foot touching the bag first. With all due respect, their objectivity was skewed.
I wonder… how often do we verbosely cheer on “our team” or “our candidate” — believing they are right or “better” — not ever recognizing that our objectivity is skewed?
(As said, this is not a sports post.)
Respectfully…
AR