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Is there anything more American than Single-A baseball?*As I found out recently, there really isn't.**In a setting such as a small farming community on a weekend evening, the old edifice of what once*was*still shines bright, and hearkens back to the Satuday Evening Post version of our collective zeitgeist.
Earlier this month, while on vacation in California's Central Valley, I devoted a significant amount of time to the pursuit of this quiet slice of Americana, and found it refreshing and vibrant. *Catching games in Modesto and Visalia (the Nuts and Rawhide, respectively), I became enamored by the encroaching smallness of the game I have always experienced on the grand stage. There was an earnest pride in these towns for the collections of never-will-be's assigned to their care; no shame or reservation under the knowledge that the players in front of them are decidedly*minor league. *Glitz and glamour put aside, the interstitial moments were honest, with the advertising for local airport service to Sacramento, or the local farming family who had been sponsoring the team for years. *The cynical aspect of baseball was gone, replaced by something wholesome, organic. *No stream of stats, no monotonous bloviating from the color guy -- the big business of baseball made farm-to-table.
There's something unique to truly cherish about baseball's minor league system. *Certainly, my love and passion for the game played a big part in my experience, and your mileage may vary, but I can't recommend small-town baseball enough. *Tiny, intimate stadiums offer cheap prices on beer and tickets. *The local boy scout troop carries the flag out to center field for the anthem. Players you can relate two (Visalia's shortstop wears the same cleats I do!) replace the preening mega-stars of the bigs. *If you're a real baseball fan, make some time for it the next time you're out and about. You won't regret it.
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Today in the bag, I'm talking a renewed rivalry, the British Open, and the Gold Cup.
Click below for the bag...
Read more »
Is there anything more American than Single-A baseball?*As I found out recently, there really isn't.**In a setting such as a small farming community on a weekend evening, the old edifice of what once*was*still shines bright, and hearkens back to the Satuday Evening Post version of our collective zeitgeist.
Earlier this month, while on vacation in California's Central Valley, I devoted a significant amount of time to the pursuit of this quiet slice of Americana, and found it refreshing and vibrant. *Catching games in Modesto and Visalia (the Nuts and Rawhide, respectively), I became enamored by the encroaching smallness of the game I have always experienced on the grand stage. There was an earnest pride in these towns for the collections of never-will-be's assigned to their care; no shame or reservation under the knowledge that the players in front of them are decidedly*minor league. *Glitz and glamour put aside, the interstitial moments were honest, with the advertising for local airport service to Sacramento, or the local farming family who had been sponsoring the team for years. *The cynical aspect of baseball was gone, replaced by something wholesome, organic. *No stream of stats, no monotonous bloviating from the color guy -- the big business of baseball made farm-to-table.
There's something unique to truly cherish about baseball's minor league system. *Certainly, my love and passion for the game played a big part in my experience, and your mileage may vary, but I can't recommend small-town baseball enough. *Tiny, intimate stadiums offer cheap prices on beer and tickets. *The local boy scout troop carries the flag out to center field for the anthem. Players you can relate two (Visalia's shortstop wears the same cleats I do!) replace the preening mega-stars of the bigs. *If you're a real baseball fan, make some time for it the next time you're out and about. You won't regret it.
--
Today in the bag, I'm talking a renewed rivalry, the British Open, and the Gold Cup.
Click below for the bag...
Read more »
Originally posted by The Rumblings of a Deranged Buffalo
Click here to view the article.
Earlier this month, while on vacation in California's Central Valley, I devoted a significant amount of time to the pursuit of this quiet slice of Americana, and found it refreshing and vibrant. *Catching games in Modesto and Visalia (the Nuts and Rawhide, respectively), I became enamored by the encroaching smallness of the game I have always experienced on the grand stage. There was an earnest pride in these towns for the collections of never-will-be's assigned to their care; no shame or reservation under the knowledge that the players in front of them are decidedly*minor league. *Glitz and glamour put aside, the interstitial moments were honest, with the advertising for local airport service to Sacramento, or the local farming family who had been sponsoring the team for years. *The cynical aspect of baseball was gone, replaced by something wholesome, organic. *No stream of stats, no monotonous bloviating from the color guy -- the big business of baseball made farm-to-table.
 |
| The scene in Visalia |
--
Today in the bag, I'm talking a renewed rivalry, the British Open, and the Gold Cup.
Click below for the bag...
Read more »
Is there anything more American than Single-A baseball?*As I found out recently, there really isn't.**In a setting such as a small farming community on a weekend evening, the old edifice of what once*was*still shines bright, and hearkens back to the Satuday Evening Post version of our collective zeitgeist.
Earlier this month, while on vacation in California's Central Valley, I devoted a significant amount of time to the pursuit of this quiet slice of Americana, and found it refreshing and vibrant. *Catching games in Modesto and Visalia (the Nuts and Rawhide, respectively), I became enamored by the encroaching smallness of the game I have always experienced on the grand stage. There was an earnest pride in these towns for the collections of never-will-be's assigned to their care; no shame or reservation under the knowledge that the players in front of them are decidedly*minor league. *Glitz and glamour put aside, the interstitial moments were honest, with the advertising for local airport service to Sacramento, or the local farming family who had been sponsoring the team for years. *The cynical aspect of baseball was gone, replaced by something wholesome, organic. *No stream of stats, no monotonous bloviating from the color guy -- the big business of baseball made farm-to-table.
|
| The scene in Visalia |
--
Today in the bag, I'm talking a renewed rivalry, the British Open, and the Gold Cup.
Click below for the bag...
Read more »
Originally posted by The Rumblings of a Deranged Buffalo
Click here to view the article.