John Miller, head coach of the Brussels Kangaroos and a reporter for a major American newspaper, is chronicling his team’s 2008 season in a column that will appear every Monday on mister-baseball.com. It is the first of several Mister-Baseball Blogs this year.
Before an under-29 game Sunday in Antwerp, Sam Faeder, our .450-hitting New Yorker, ran off a biography of batting average. It went something like this: “Uh, freshman year of college, .350, sophomore year, .250, junior year, .350, senior year, .230, Israel, .308, Brussels, .450.”
What, I inquired, could explain the seesawing? What causes the same man with the same bat facing the same caliber of pitching to trampoline up and down like that?
An honorable gentleman of the sort you’d tell your sister to marry, Sam was coy about answering, but I pried it out him. He had, he said, carried on “complex emotional relationships” during the down years.
It needn’t be so. Before meeting my life love, I rarely had girlfriends. I hit .180. Since getting hitched, I’ve hit .180.
But the question is not useless, and requires further thought. It’s a thorny issue in Belgium, where the schedule makers have mandated baseball most every Saturday and Sunday afternoon between March and October. Bottom line: doubleheaders could save a lot of relationships, and keep a lot more guys playing baseball.
A few weeks ago, over Leffe beers, two club presidents talked shop.
“We’re having trouble selling enough concessions.”
“Our Americans are great this year.”
“We can’t get enough kids to try baseball for the first time.”
“Too many divorces in Belgian baseball, that’s a real problem.”
Without lapsing into cheap misogynistic jokes about our sisters and mothers – we do like girls, after all — I have clocked and catalogued five baseball girlfriend/wife archetypes.
- Annie Savoy. She loves baseball and ballplayers, and wants you, if you’re hitting .450. The catch: Movie character.
- Loving Lucy. The dutiful, tolerant girlfriend who’ll put up with a few afternoons a month of mediocre baseball out of love for her man. The catch: Have kids, and you’re done.
- Shopoholic Sue. She doesn’t like sports, and she doesn’t like men who play sports. Can I have your credit card while you go play your game? The catch: She met shopping first.
- Hardline Halle: Me or baseball? The catch: She’s worth it.
- Scorekeeper Sally. To make you happy, she keeps score and sells hot dogs. The catch: She’ll get tired of keeping score in the cold. It sucks.
Oh yeah, we beat Deurne 2-1 on Saturday – a pitcher’s duel with two solo dingers and 29 strikeouts — putting us in second place in the promo division. My lovely had to work.
I played again on Sunday, in the under-29 game. (I’m 30, but each team gets three waivers per game.) This time, Mrs. Miller came along. She watched my first at-bat, then fell asleep.
I am available for baseball-related counseling and relationship advice at oldworldpastime@gmail.com