It's the middle of summer, so I'm watching a lot of baseball these days. Even though a lot of people swear off baseball, calling it the most boring sport this side of molasses polo (don't bother Google-ing it, it doesn't exist), I love baseball.
And as the season progresses and the fans of playoff teams get excited (I'm not talking about you, Cubs fans), I thought I would talk about a growing problem in baseball fandom: homers.
No, not homeruns; homers. They are as their name suggests. Fighters fight. Losers lose. And homers, well, they are all things home. And, they are one of the more annoying caveats of professional sports.
Notice that I am not talking about a certain team's group of fans, because homers act the same regardless of their allegiance. And those actions carry the same persistent tone: entitlement.
Let's take a look at my least favorite homer act:
The home team is at bat, the opposing team on defense. A leadoff hitter for the home team is walked. Cheering ensues.
This is OK, so let's keep going.
The batter takes his base and, after reaching first, readies himself for his new role: baserunner. Elsewhere, the opposing pitcher settles in for a new batter.
He toes the rubber. He takes the sign from the catcher. He sets...and then he throws over to first base. Booing from the home fans ensues.
And there you have it.
If you're an observer of baseball, you might sense what I'm getting at. And if you're new to baseball, the boo-ing may seem confusing. Well, that's because it is exactly that: confusing, and also stupid and senseless.
In short, home fans boo the pitcher for invoking the strategic move of throwing over to first to hold the runner on. It doesn't matter how many times the opposing pitcher does it, boos always ensue.
However, it is indeed a strategic move. The opposing pitcher is trying to keep the runner from stealing second (or any base for that matter) by tossing to first, thus planting the seed that he (the pitcher) could do it at anytime. The runner is then left leaning, quite literally, between stealing or staying. Strategy.
However, homers don't see it that way.
Do they see it as some sort of aggressive misuse of pitching power? Are they just cranky because they don't want their guy getting his jersey dirty sliding back? For years, I'd see and hear fans boo, and I never understood why. Now, I do. They're entitled.
Entitlement is, essentially, the state of believing one has a right to do or have something, however merited or unmerited that belief is.
Fans want the result that equals their team succeeding in its fight to win the game (i.e., they want their team to steal as many bases as possible). And when the opposing pitcher tries to stop that, the aforementioned homers get cranky.
It'd be one thing if the act of the pitcher throwing to first was against the rules. The boo-ing would then be justified. But, it's not.
Additionally, and most importantly, when the HOME team's pitcher throws over to first, all is well on the homefront. No boos. "Good strategy holding him close," they say. "You're a tool," I say.
Even when I'm at Miller Park, surrounded by my fellow Brewer fans, I abhor homer-dom. I hear fellow Brewer fans boo when the opposing pitcher holds a runner on, and I just scoff at them.
However, it's not just confined to holding on runners. There's a whole laundry list of demands that home fans have regarding commonplace things, and if they are not met, temper tantrums are thrown.
1. The opposing team cannot celebrate.
When the home team does it, it's celebration. When the opposing team does it, it's "those hot dogs are showing up our team."
2. The opposing pitcher and catcher cannot have a discussion on the mound.
-or-
2a. The opposing pitcher cannot not step off the mound to compose himself.
When the home team does either, it's "heck yeah, good strategy." When the opposing team does it, it's "OH MY GOD, QUIT WASTING TIME."
And my personal favorite: The opposing pitcher can be wild, lose control, and throw balls (non-strikes), because those lead to walks, but said wild pitches must not get close to or hit our batters.
In other words, the opposing pitcher can stink, but he must be precise about it.
So yeah, homers are pretty ridiculous, and they are an embarrassment to baseball fans.
And I say "baseball fans" for a reason, because those are the best type of fans: unaligned, mature fans that like the game more than getting drunk and screaming at players.
So the next time you go to a baseball game, or watch one with friends, try to be vigilant and nip homerdom in the bud, whether it's your own or someone else's. Even if it's family...
One night, I was watching a Brewer game with my parents. A Brewer made a leaping catch up and over the outfield wall to rob a homerun, and we cheered. An inning later, an outfielder for the opposing team made an equally impactful catch, crashing into the outfield wall. He ended up staying down on the ground for a few seconds, injured as a result of the collision, and my mother said, "Oh get up already."
I looked at her.
She retorted: "What?"
They need our help, my friends. Stay vigilant.
- Jeremy Pink is the News Clerk at The Monroe Times. He can be reached at newsclerk@themonroetimes.com.
And as the season progresses and the fans of playoff teams get excited (I'm not talking about you, Cubs fans), I thought I would talk about a growing problem in baseball fandom: homers.
No, not homeruns; homers. They are as their name suggests. Fighters fight. Losers lose. And homers, well, they are all things home. And, they are one of the more annoying caveats of professional sports.
Notice that I am not talking about a certain team's group of fans, because homers act the same regardless of their allegiance. And those actions carry the same persistent tone: entitlement.
Let's take a look at my least favorite homer act:
The home team is at bat, the opposing team on defense. A leadoff hitter for the home team is walked. Cheering ensues.
This is OK, so let's keep going.
The batter takes his base and, after reaching first, readies himself for his new role: baserunner. Elsewhere, the opposing pitcher settles in for a new batter.
He toes the rubber. He takes the sign from the catcher. He sets...and then he throws over to first base. Booing from the home fans ensues.
And there you have it.
If you're an observer of baseball, you might sense what I'm getting at. And if you're new to baseball, the boo-ing may seem confusing. Well, that's because it is exactly that: confusing, and also stupid and senseless.
In short, home fans boo the pitcher for invoking the strategic move of throwing over to first to hold the runner on. It doesn't matter how many times the opposing pitcher does it, boos always ensue.
However, it is indeed a strategic move. The opposing pitcher is trying to keep the runner from stealing second (or any base for that matter) by tossing to first, thus planting the seed that he (the pitcher) could do it at anytime. The runner is then left leaning, quite literally, between stealing or staying. Strategy.
However, homers don't see it that way.
Do they see it as some sort of aggressive misuse of pitching power? Are they just cranky because they don't want their guy getting his jersey dirty sliding back? For years, I'd see and hear fans boo, and I never understood why. Now, I do. They're entitled.
Entitlement is, essentially, the state of believing one has a right to do or have something, however merited or unmerited that belief is.
Fans want the result that equals their team succeeding in its fight to win the game (i.e., they want their team to steal as many bases as possible). And when the opposing pitcher tries to stop that, the aforementioned homers get cranky.
It'd be one thing if the act of the pitcher throwing to first was against the rules. The boo-ing would then be justified. But, it's not.
Additionally, and most importantly, when the HOME team's pitcher throws over to first, all is well on the homefront. No boos. "Good strategy holding him close," they say. "You're a tool," I say.
Even when I'm at Miller Park, surrounded by my fellow Brewer fans, I abhor homer-dom. I hear fellow Brewer fans boo when the opposing pitcher holds a runner on, and I just scoff at them.
However, it's not just confined to holding on runners. There's a whole laundry list of demands that home fans have regarding commonplace things, and if they are not met, temper tantrums are thrown.
1. The opposing team cannot celebrate.
When the home team does it, it's celebration. When the opposing team does it, it's "those hot dogs are showing up our team."
2. The opposing pitcher and catcher cannot have a discussion on the mound.
-or-
2a. The opposing pitcher cannot not step off the mound to compose himself.
When the home team does either, it's "heck yeah, good strategy." When the opposing team does it, it's "OH MY GOD, QUIT WASTING TIME."
And my personal favorite: The opposing pitcher can be wild, lose control, and throw balls (non-strikes), because those lead to walks, but said wild pitches must not get close to or hit our batters.
In other words, the opposing pitcher can stink, but he must be precise about it.
So yeah, homers are pretty ridiculous, and they are an embarrassment to baseball fans.
And I say "baseball fans" for a reason, because those are the best type of fans: unaligned, mature fans that like the game more than getting drunk and screaming at players.
So the next time you go to a baseball game, or watch one with friends, try to be vigilant and nip homerdom in the bud, whether it's your own or someone else's. Even if it's family...
One night, I was watching a Brewer game with my parents. A Brewer made a leaping catch up and over the outfield wall to rob a homerun, and we cheered. An inning later, an outfielder for the opposing team made an equally impactful catch, crashing into the outfield wall. He ended up staying down on the ground for a few seconds, injured as a result of the collision, and my mother said, "Oh get up already."
I looked at her.
She retorted: "What?"
They need our help, my friends. Stay vigilant.
- Jeremy Pink is the News Clerk at The Monroe Times. He can be reached at newsclerk@themonroetimes.com.