I could - and probably will - study baseball forever....

There is joy that I take from baseball. I pore over the statistics of players, considering the standing of current players relative their predecessors; I wonder how players of old would fare in today’s game and vice versa. Hammerin’ Hank would still dominate; Koufax, too. So would Albert Pujols and CC Sabathia.

But what about Alex Rodriguez or Barry Bonds or Jose Canseco? All great players. All have been implicated……what might have happened if they’d played in different eras?

I love watching games, too. Much of my leisure time is spent at a ballpark or on the sofa – the Cubs and Cardinals renewing a century-old rivalry. Very little brings me more delight than watching pitchers and catchers set hitters up to fail. What beauty! A right-handed pitcher against a left-handed batter; there’s runner on first, with one out in the second inning. Pitcher and catcher know that the hitter in the seven-hole, who’s on-deck, has good speed and can make things difficult if the six-hole hitter gets on base. If he can induce a groundball, though, the pitcher will hit third in the third.

First, though, the pitcher needs to get ahead in the count. The pitcher looks in and sees one finger, pointing toward the catcher’s left thigh. He sets and fires - a fastball for a strike on the outer half of the plate. Strike one.

The hitter’s behind and knows it.

The pitcher takes the return throw from the catcher and then leans in for the next sign – two fingers – the pinkie and the ring-finger. His right foot is flush against the rubber; he sets his grip by feel. “AHH…the rounded seams!” he thinks. As he prepares to throw, he sees the catcher shift, and he fires a slider that thrown inside, off the plate, breaking down toward the hitters back foot. Ball one – but with a purpose.

The hitter is aware how close that came to hitting him, and his foot digs more softly into the dirt of the batter’s box. The hitter’s short-term memory kicks in…his brain reminds him the direction he’s just seen a ball travel. He steps out of the box and takes a deep breath.

The catcher’s four fingers wiggle. He sets up away and lowers his well-padded glove toward the earth. The pitcher sets and checks the runner over his shoulder out of the corner of his left eye, while burying the ball deep into his right hand. Wrapping his digits around the ball he feels the seams curving gently toward the heavens. He raises his left leg above the hill, turns and drives with his right and lets it fly.

The hitter sees the spin of the ball, judges it to be over the heart of the plate. He strides and swings, but, as the bat enters the hitting zone, the ball drifts down and away from him. And he’s misjudged the velocity, swinging early. He makes contact, but it’s down toward the end of the bat.

The pitcher watches as the ball is beaten into the ground…six to four to three.

Frustrated, yet respectful, the hitter takes off his helmet and hands it to his first-base coach. He’ll get three or four more chances to succeed.

Baseball is a game of controlled failure.

To many, baseball is a slow-moving. It’s boring. Two grown men playing catch, while a guy with a stick tries to hit the ball that they are throwing. I revel in the nuances of the game. Baseball is a passion for me.

But I couldn’t consider the game’s nuances without this passion to learn about them.