It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt

I'm not what you'd call a Sports Fan. I can generally tell you what sports are happening in any given season (although come to think of it, I have absolutely no idea when one plays hockey. It's ice, must be winter.) You name the sport, I can probably tell you at least one star. (Wayne Gretsky, does he play hockey?) I don’t really do sports. There was that moment, a few years ago: I was visiting a friend in Minneapolis who was on some kind of softball team, and she talked me into joining her for her game. Little did I know that if you show up, you earn yourself an at-bat. That was, I hope, the only time in my life I’ll find myself in high-heels with a baseball bat in hand, facing down a grim lady in a sleeveless T with a mean underhand pitch. I won’t keep you in suspense. I did not hit the ball.

But I’ve managed to put that whole embarrassing episode behind me, for the most part, and I enjoy taking in an occasional baseball game now and then. I have a baseball cap. I don’t have one of those giant hands, or any kind of dairy product to wear on my head. But I’ve learned to leave the high heels at home. I manage to blend in. But what has become obvious is that the 8 year old sitting next to me knows way more about the sport than I do. For me, every baseball game is like my husband’s experience watching Mission Impossible. “What? who is he? what just happened? where did that come from? why is he yelling at that guy? why is that bunch of guys all running that way? why don’t they just take him out? why is that lady in gold lame dancing around in the middle of the field? now just a doggone minute, what the hell is going on now?” I liked Mission Impossible, before Tom Cruise became positively creepy. But I need an audio tour of every inning.

Even I knew, though, that the game last night was a bit of a rout. 20-6. Those Cardinals (they’re from St. Louis) were getting a little pissed. And at certain point, their pitcher banged two of our Sox in a row. Much discussion, lots of people running around, lots of hand gestures. Back to the game. So then the next round, the Sox put in some wanker pitcher who throws 3 pitches and then nails the next Cardinal up. He was headed back to the dugout before the umpire even looked his direction.

So I poked my husband and got the skinny on the whole deal. I learned that it was retaliation, pure and simple. The Sox, he said, were getting hit a lot this year, and they had to make a stand, or else they'd look vulnerable, and other teams would think they could intimidate them. They'd put in that guy for the sole purpose of nailing a Card.

I've been thinking about this since last night, and I find it a little dispiriting. This is our all-American sport, hot dogs and apple pie and 4th of July. I had no idea that retaliation was part of the unwritten rules of the game. I'd like more ladies dancing around in gold lame dresses with matching shoes, please. But as for our all-American boys running around in funny uniforms: this retaliation business, well, it's for the birds.