Swing for the Fences

“Every batsman surveys the field before taking a strike, and usually fielders get imprinted on his mind.  But in my head, I don’t see the fielders.  I only see the gaps”
-- Ricky “Punter” Ponting, Australian Cricket Champion
 
Chris and I grabbed our seats at a Yankees game this Fall and exchanged the usual pleasantries with the guys sitting next to us.  Turns out they were from Australia and this was their very first major league baseball game.  We were amazed – and very happy to answer all of their baseball questions. 
 
Chris gave them the cliff-notes:  the strike zone, base-on-balls, why a foul is a strike, tagging-up, running on a bad pitch, stealing bases, designated hitters – all the basics.  They were appreciative, but clearly still at sea amidst the thousands of fans eating hotdogs, drinking beer and yelling at the umps.  To their credit, they did each consume a hotdog and seemed to be keeping up with the beer.
 
For us it was a bit of friendly “pay back” – many a Hong Kong weekend would find us tucked into a crowded bar in Wanchai, sipping a pint with a bunch of rowdy cricket fans (I know, the description defies logic), having absolutely no idea what was going on.  We would latch onto some friendly unsuspecting soul and ask question after question about the game, trying to grasp the basics and at least keep score.
 
If you knew my husband, you would know how truly unusual this is – he pretty much knows the rules of every international sport out there, and if he needs a refresher, we keep “Rugby for Dummies” close at hand.  But try as we might, we could never fully grasp the nuances of Cricket. 
 
I can only imagine “Cricket for Dummies” – a tome of daunting length with hundreds of pages on etiquette, detailing when tea is served and documenting what hats to wear at the most prominent matches.  There’s no doubt it’s a civilized sport, clearly unrivaled in it’s attention to social detail and strict fan behavior – a far, far cry from the ravenous fanatics who attend soccer (called football) and rugby matches.
 
There are no crazy costumes, no lewd language is tolerated – Cricket fans wear hats, don an array of white clothing, and even break for tea during a match, all with a healthy amount of golf clapping and the occasional roar when a batsman strikes the ball into some part of the outfield.  Or something.
 
While overseas we did our time as foreign-sports fans – rugby, soccer, cricket, even Australian football.  We sat in bars surrounded by unforgiving Europeans, cheering quietly for our boys playing in the Ryder Cup.  We faced down the diehard Aussies during the Presidents Cup, and even got faithfully behind the New Zealand All Blacks during rugby season. 
 
But as for enjoying American sports overseas, we caught only the occasional baseball game and had to record the American “Gridiron” games – as you can imagine, watching Sunday football in rewind many hours after our teams had played and gone to bed was somewhat anti-climatic.  So to say we’ve enjoyed baseball season this year is a great understatement – in fact, Chris watched our Yanks play almost every day this summer – and loved every swing of the bat.
 
This photo is of Aaron Judge, the newest phenom on the Yankees’ roster.  He’s a 6’7”, 260-lb monster hitter, an old soul residing in a 25-year-old body.  He’s absolutely captivating, and we’re so very happy he’s a Yankee – one of the very good ones.  I’d love to meet him one day and ask what he sees when stepping up to the plate.  Does he see the fielders or does he see the gaps?  My bet is that he looks at the highest wall in the outfield … and then swings for the fences.