John Miller, a Belgian-American journalist, and a player/coach for the Brussels Kangaroos, is in his fourth year of writing Old World Pastime, a take on baseball as lived in 21th century Europe.
All around the world, baseball is ticking. U.S. high school and college seasons are under way. In Arizona and Florida, the best among us are fine-tuning their muscular art. And in Amsterdam and Albany, Brussels and Boston, and Cairo (Yes! I looked it up) and California, clubs and amateur leagues are revving their engines.
Committees hammer out schedules over spaghetti bolognaise. Hardened lovers of the game dig holes, trying to find first base. Players lift weights and hit soft toss, vowing this year to hit .300 in their men’s leagues.
Let’s face it. At the end of the day, our beloved — and I do love it — MLB is kinda like the Vatican: grand, haughty, talented, and everybody watches it on TV. They’re what most people think about when you say Baseball or Catholic. (I think this analogy mostly works, but it falls short when you get to fantasy baseball. There ‘s no fantasy Vatican. Hmm, how would that work?)
But every intellectually honest Catholic knows that Rome is, well, not really what’s it all about, as well as a bit corrupt, and that the church’s real value is the local, the kind priest counseling a family through tough times, the lovely music brightening Sundays, and the old nun serving at soup kitchens.
In the same way, our game survives not because Alex Rodriguez is paid to play it, but because kids love it, coaches run it, and umpires and scorers do their thing.
And so that brings me to this little patch of earth. It’s an odd time for the Brussels Kangaroos. The men who started the club in the late 1980s are mostly gone. Only Jimmy, an EU air traffic control manager who now serves as club president, is left. This is probably my last year on the club board. In mid-season, our pleasant grass and dirt diamond will be torn up to make way for a turf terrain able to field soccer and hockey games. Changes, changes, changes.
But we’re still here! On Sunday, the air was chilly and the sun was warm. Jimmy, I and five other grown-ups rolled out for our first outdoors practice of the year. We raked the field, dug up a hole to put first base in and dragged the balls and bats out of our shipping container locker rooms.
And yes, baseball is still great. Toshi, a Japanese-Mexican-American boxer-ballplayer, and a new Kangaroo, from New York, ran us through some creative conditioning drills. (More on that in a future column.) I organized some groundball and flyball drills. And then we took BP. Pure weekend warrior heaven.
I try to come up with a different baseball initiative every year. In 2008, I coached the men’s team and started this column. In 2009, I started my own youth program. Last year, I launched a Little League tournament. I’m still looking for a new idea for this year. For now, I’m content to roll out for Tuesday and Thursday practices, and Saturday games. The pastime is good that way.
How best to serve the game? I’m all ears if you got suggestions at oldworldpastime@gmail.com
Baseball is like church. Many attend, but few understand. – Wes Westrum
Hi John, I don’t think there are Kangaroos in Brussels (apart from the players on your team) so how did that nick-name originate for your team?