Hard to believe but yes, I do still believe. In
baseball. In America too.
As I write this it is Opening Day 2017 for the Major League
baseball season, my fiftieth as a fan. I first fell in love with the Boston Red
Sox as a boy growing up just south of Boston.
Came to my fandom the year of “The
Impossible Dream”, 1967, when a rookie named Yaz rescued the BoSox from decades
of futility, brought them just one inning away from a world championship. They
lost that game but won back the hearts of millions of fans.
And America?
I first fell in love with the United
States because of a name, my name, “John F.”
as in “John Fitzgerald” as in Kennedy. I entered the world on Election Day 1960,
so my folks, as proud Americans, gave me that moniker in part as a mark of
their love for this nation. I idolized JFK growing up, especially his idealism:
“Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your
country.”
Remember such idealism?
It’s a certain way of looking at life and living life: to believe in and
cherish and try to live out noble principles, purposes, values, and ideals.
In a sport like baseball, idealism blossoms when fans trust
that the game is played fair and square, and always by the rules. That the players give their best efforts, run
out every hit, stretch to catch every hit ball, and then, when the
competition is over, extend a hand of peace to the opponent. “Good game.” Played well, such a game embodies so much
that is good in our human experience: courage and sacrifice, grit and joy.
Not so different from the idealism we hope for as citizens.
In a country idealism blossoms when the citizenry trusts that institutions of
government are created and exist by and for all the people. That when citizens are given the privilege of election by their neighbors to higher
office, these leaders promise to serve with humility; fidelity to the rule of
law; and commitment to defend the rights of every last person who claims America as
home. Our shared rule book is the Constitution and the poetry of such idealism
is found in the Declaration of Independence: “that all men are created equal,
that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights…”
Remember such idealism?
It existed and thrived before and I actually trust and
deeply believe that it will and must exist and thrive again. How about you dear
citizen and fan? Are you still idealistic? As a fan of the game, as an
American? Do you still believe?
I hope so.
We live in strange, unprecedented, and very, very unsettled
times, when idealism is regularly mocked and made fun of or just rejected as
old school, old fashioned, all washed up, a quaint relic of the past. Times when patriotism is hijacked by self
serving politicians who cowardly hide behind American flag lapel pins, having convinced
themselves that they alone can make America good again. When the media, like a voracious monster,
feeds the public raw fear and cynicism, 24/7.
And yes when sports have become such big business that many of us fans
have forgotten that finally, it is only a game, after all. A game. Played by
overgrown children with bats and balls and leather gloves on a field of
dreams.
So this year on Opening Day, I really need Opening Day,
perhaps now more than ever before. I
need to believe in the goodness of our national pastime and in the goodness of
our nation. I need a good game of catch in the backyard on a warm summer night
again and to listen to the Sox on the radio.
I need to believe in America,
that in spite of all our flaws, we still aspire to embody the best in humanity.
Decency. Justice. Mercy. Service. Sacrifice.
Freedom.
So go ahead: call me idealistic. I’m guilty as charged. I still believe. Do you?
Now let’s play ball!
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