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Patience

January 20, 2015

I found it amazing that an important "test" match in cricket last month between India and Australia was scheduled for three days but could last five days, or might end after two. This flexible scheduling is just part of the game.

On one day of that match, Australia was able to bat all morning, declare a lunch break, and then keep batting most of the afternoon before India ever had an opportunity to go on offense. When they finally did, India was already behind 400 and something to zero.

It was equally intriguing to watch the fastest two of the 117 yachts entered in the 70th Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race finish the more than 628-nautical mile course within 48 minutes of each other, but 11 hours before the third place yacht. And, two days before the last of the 103 finishers. 

I decided that Australian sports fans must have a different definition of drama, a lot more patience for events of long duration, and much more tolerance for events of indefinite length than we do in the USA. Perhaps it is in the DNA of Australians to be patient ... for they are certainly among the most polite populations I've encountered.

Perhaps all of this is inherent in the character of a country that is almost as large as the USA’s first 48 states but has only seven percent of the USA’s population. In fact, China's population increases each year by more people than the total population of Australia ... which may have something to do with 36 people being killed during a human stampede in Shanghai this past New Year’s Eve.

Dodger Lessons

August 6, 2013

The first baseball team I played on was the Dodgers. I’ve been a Dodger fan ever since, checking their place in the National League standings almost every day of the season, year after year. It would have been difficult to learn more about sports and life from any professional sports franchise than one could learn from the Dodgers as I was growing up.

It was the Dodgers who returned integration to the Major Leagues in 1951, which from my home in central Wisconsin seemed unremarkable; and when I became old enough to think about baseball, Jackie Robinson was my most favorite player for a long while.

It was the Dodgers who led the Major League’s migration from the northeast to the west, which my young mind could not grasp. From historic Brooklyn to Los Angeles? To play in the Coliseum?

I could not know then that this leading edge of professional sports franchise mobility would become an early adopter of a new toy called “television,” and that this would solidify baseball’s place as the national pastime for two more generations.

I coped with tragedy as catcher Roy Campanella suffered a paralyzing injury. I considered religion’s place in life as Sandy Koufax declined to pitch on Jewish holy days.

The Dodgers of my youth already knew that life is not fair. How could it be after Oct. 3, 1951, when the hated Giants’ Bobby Thompson hit a ninth-inning homerun to steal the National League pennant from my Dodgers?

Sadly, the Dodgers of more recent years have been beset by the kind of ownership dramas now common among professional sports as the insipid idle rich ruin even the most stable and storied franchises.

And speaking of rich, had it not been for my dear mother’s insatiable desire to clean out every closet she found, I might be rich too. For I had collected, and kept in mint condition, the baseball card of every Dodger player of the 1950s. They were thrown out while I was away at college.