This summer, I’m finally going to check off one of the last things on my sports-fan bucket list. I’m going as a reporter, not a fan, mind you, but don’t let that silly little distinction keep you from assuming I’ll have a good time anyways. I’m going on adventure to Miller Park to see the Brewers play baseball.
Between breweries and real sports, I’ve seen some shit in my day. But never in all my years did I think there’d be a company baseball team as popular as the Miller Brewers are. Heck, I didn’t even know what base-ing a ball was until three days ago. Apparently, it’s a big yard game where a bunch of men assault a helpless leather ball. They say it’s America’s past-time, so I figured it was past time I learned a thing or two about this little-known, under-ground niche of a subculture. (See that? That was a pun. It’s like a play-on-words, only witty. Super witty).
It’s nonstop action
Baseball never stops. It’s nonstop. It’s always moving. The moving of the ball is always happening. Even when the ball is in one of the players’ web-things on his hand, it’s technically moving. The game is faster than a speeding bullet, razor sharp, wicked hard and never clichéd.
In the pro league (that’s where the Miller Beers play), teams are actually good. They’re really good at catching the ball, even when it’s hit like an RPG fired at the speed of light from the Millennium Falcon at warp speed. But still, I like Little League better. Errors and lack of talent make for excitement.
Fans love Miller Park
Miller Park is where the Breweries play. It looks like one of those Japanese fans like from Mulan. As the fans morph from alcoholics to drunk, they start chanting rambunctiously and soon there is pandemonium and bedlam ringing through the zealous walls of the stadium.
What the h-e-double-baseball-bats is a “force out?”
When I go to the stadium, I’m a little worried I’m going to get distracted from the game. I hear there’s a giant diamond in the middle of the grass and I love shiny things and I just don’t know if I’m going to be able to pick up the game if I’m worrying somebody might fall and cut themself. Diamonds are the hardest things on earth, you know. Except for understanding baseball lingo. Ha! Got you again, that’s actually “difficult.” If you didn’t know, there’s actually a linguistic difference. Anybody good at grammar knows that, NBD.
Anyways, there’s all sorts of weird rules. Once the pitcher pitches the pitch, the batter bats the ball (not the bat, for some reason) and runs. Unless he walks. Or I also heard he can get punched out, but he must have to do something wrong in order for that to happen. That seems mean. It’s a forceful out, which I think is the same as a force out.
Either way, I’ll pick it up within the first few frames. I think they’re actually referred to as “innings,” but that got me confused when I was trying to find a hotel.
“Let’s play two”
I think an old player named Yogi Berra said that. You probably have heard of him because after he retired, he became famous for promoting forest-fire prevention. Anyways, when a team plays two games in the same day, it’s called a double-header. This is confusing, because I think it’s also called a double-header when two bat-hitters are called out on the same play.
If you want to be hip like me, jump on the baseball bandwagon soon. It’s whizzing down the trail like a fighter jet rocketing past the Spirit of St. Louis in the burnt-orange sky. Descriptive language, bitches.
