It’s always best to talk about baseball when your team is losing; at least that’s what I learned growing up in NYC. I was born into a Mets family, and we knew how to suffer long periods of being “the other team.” We saw how the number of Yankee hats around the city tripled when they were headed for the playoffs. Pristine navy blue and white hats that look like they never saw dirt or grease. No frayed bills, fans who maybe watched 10 of the 162 games that season but had strong opinions on their chances of winning a pennant, which always seemed ordained by The Lord. Those fair-weather fans and hangers-on hardly ever talk about their team when they’re bad. Or, when they do, all they talk about is how bad they are. What those folks never understood is that baseball is a game of endless hope.
I declared myself a Nationals fan toward the end of the 2011 season. They were becoming so exciting to watch, and in 2010/2011 I stopped my practice of going to games only when the Mets were in town and started going to games to watch the Nationals play. I watched Strasburg at Nats Park and at his rehab start in Woodbridge after coming back from his Tommy John surgery. Bryce Harper was nothing but pure potential, and everyone knew he was gonna come to the Majors early. Davey Johnson was captaining the ship, the same manager who brought the Mets to their second World Series title in 1986. I believed that they were gonna make the playoffs despite coasting under .500 throughout 2011. If they made it, I wasn’t going to show up to the division series in a pristine Nationals hat with no dirt and no frayed edges. I needed to put some time in with that hat. I had to talk about the Nationals before they flirted with a championship.
When I went to the Nationals first NLDS game in 2012, my hat was well-worn.
The Nats just lost three games at home in their first ever World Series. This was after winning two games in Houston, after sweeping the Cardinals, after coming back against the Dodgers, and after winning the Wild Card game in dramatic fashion against the Brewers. When they were up 2-0 against the Astros and heading to DC, they looked ordained by The Lord. Now they’re going back to Houston down 3-2 and they have a difficult task ahead of them.
So now is a good time to talk about the Nationals. When their backs are against the ropes and when the championship seems less likely.
Baseball is a game of endless hope. People who leave a game before the last out don’t understand baseball. They like to be seen, they like to drink beer, but they don’t know what they’re watching. Baseball is about watching the loss as much as it about watching the win because the loss only comes with the 27th out. There’s no clock in baseball - up until that 27th out, there is still a chance. No matter the score, no matter the pitcher, no matter the batter, there is always a chance in baseball. Every baseball fan keeps a shred of hope up until that last out. The heart is racing slightly. The brain is saying, “Come on, come on, come on…” You might say out loud that there’s no chance, you might start packing up your bags, but you’re hanging on until that 27th out because if your team can come back from this ten run deficit with two outs, it’s just proof that anything can happen. That there’s no bottom that you can’t climb out of. No wrong that you can’t right. You don’t need time, you just need chances. One more pitch to hit. And then there’s always tomorrow. There’s always next season.
There is endless hope for baseball fans.
So the Nats are down 3-2 going back to Houston. There is still a chance they win the next two games and take the championship. They’ve already won two games in Houston, and there’s still a chance Zimmerman gets his ring. They have Strasburg pitching in game six, and there’s still a chance we get our parade. They might be down by ten runs in the top of the ninth with two outs and an 0-2 count against a recovering Kurt Suzuki, and we might still get to see the commissioner's trophy at the park next year.
Baseball is a game of endless hope. It’s a sport for people who believe. It’s a constant reminder that nobody is ever truly disqualified from a little victory, and that little victories can build into bigger victories.
So good luck to the Nationals. Play two great games in Houston. Bring that trophy home. I’ll be watching every out, filled with hope on each pitch.