Hey, batter, stay within the baseline

It was as American a scene as I can think of.

Parents sitting in unfolded bag chairs, positioned on either grass or asphalt as best they could so they could peer through the chain-link fence. With the social distancing rules we’re all living with, it’s a little challenging to balance potentially avoiding an aggressive virus while also finding the perfect spot so the horizontal support bar doesn’t block the view of the batter.

And the pitcher.

And whatever position one’s son happens to be playing in that particular inning.

Why are those metal bars always in the line of sight? It’s like going to a concert to discover the seats purchased at such a great price have only a partial view of the stage. Frustrating.

But, as our good ol’ friend Tom once told us, there’s no crying in baseball, and so we won’t. Muttering, yes, but no crying.

It was fall baseball at White River Park in south Fayetteville. Between games involving first our two nephews and later our own two sons, my wife and I have spent significant portions of our springs, summers and falls for more than 20 years at Fayetteville’s Walker Park, at White River and, for one season, at the city’s new Kessler Mountain ball fields.

It was there last week on a chilly evening we watched as the boys played the great American game, where success can be collectively measured by the “home” and “guest” digits on the scoreboard, but also through individual performance — number of hits, RBIs, on-base percentages, ERAs, etc.

It’s a game in which both teams agree to play by certain rules, without which there’s really not much point in playing the game. After all, if the two sides differ on whether three strikes constitute an out or whether a runner has to stay in the baseline as he runs toward the safety of the base, the game would end up in a state of chaos.

It was there, between the games of a double-header, conversation with another parent turned to the debate between President Trump and the Democratic presidential contender, Joe Biden. About a week earlier, we’d all gone home anticipating the debate between the best and brightest our two political parties can muster to serve in what is the most important office in our land.

And yes, I realize what a sad state of affairs the last sentence suggests.

Last week we returned to the ball fields and I had to ask the same parent what she thought of the presidential event, where the agreed-to rules were flouted, the result was disheartening and the policy discussions indiscernible. Our American founders were spinning in their graves. It brought to mind the supposed words of Benjamin Franklin as he departed the constitutional convention in 1787, when he told an inquirer the effort had produced “a republic, if you can keep it.”

The presidential debate made me wonder if we can.

The comment attributed to Franklin suggests, rightly, the drafted Constitution isn’t a guarantee that the American experiment will work. It’s a governmental framework in which the work of the American people can get done through the same kinds of compromise that gave birth to the cherished document. The other parent and I wondered, with fewer people devoting themselves to being fully informed citizens (by, say, reading a newspaper daily?) and more being swayed by matters lacking import, whether the future of the nation is indeed secure.

I used to dismiss such notions. The state of Congress and depth of dysfunction there make me wonder.

I turned my attention back to baseball, where things mostly make sense.