Mark Bennett
The Tribune-Star
TERRE HAUTE —
I’d like to take a bullish stand on Keith Hernandez’s behavior.
The New York Mets announcer, who once played first base in the big leagues quite alertly, reportedly fell asleep in the broadcast booth during extra innings of the Mets-Giants game Saturday. A staffer woke Hernandez with a subtle nudge. TV cameras captured his doze.
I’d like to rant that Hernandez’s age, 56, is no excuse. After all, I spent a few seasons as player-manager of a Terre Haute Men’s Senior Baseball League team, and a couple of my teammates were in their 60s. I don’t recall them napping at the ballpark. Some guys ate hot dogs and smoked in the dugout. A few left inexplicably. But nobody slept between “play ball” and the last out.
So, what’s wrong with Hernandez?
Nothing, actually.
OK, for those of you who watch pro baseball – on TV or in person, in the bigs or the minors – how many of you have nodded off during a game? C’mon, raise those hands. Seriously? If you’ve never sawed Z’s before the seventh-inning stretch, you must be one of those fidgety types who constantly runs to the refrigerator, the bathroom or the garage, hollering, “What’s the score now?”
But if you commit to the full three hours of watching, bring a pillow and don’t feel guilty.
Some of mankind’s most blissful sleep occurs around the fifth inning. You’re sprawled out on the living room floor. A half-eaten turkey sandwich sits on a plate nearby. The play-by-play man’s voice packs the urgency of an airline pilot addressing the passengers … “Phillips on second. Morton checks, sets. And the 2-2 to Rolen – low, ball 3. You know, Reds fans, nothing livens up a backyard cookout like Kahn’s wieners and brats …” Your eyes slowly roll back. Pretty soon, the dog starts licking your forehead, you look up and it’s the top of the eighth, the score’s tied and the bases are juiced.
You rub your face awake, notice the last half of your turkey-on-wheat sandwich is gone (the dog looks guilty), and zero in on the game. Lock and load.
Been there, done that, Keith.
(Now, as a disclaimer, I never lost consciousness at a ball game I was covering in my sports writing days. So I can’t let Hernandez fully off the hook. But, undoubtedly …)
There is sleeping in baseball.
It’s not that pro baseball is boring. Quite the opposite. It’s a mix of chess (admittedly not a spectator sport), physics and athletics. Fans try to outguess the players and managers. Yes, there’s a lot of standing around, stepping out of the box, stepping into the box, meetings at the mound while talking through the web of the ball gloves, scratching, spitting, phoning the bullpen. But there are also doubles down the line, 6-4-3 double plays, walk-off homers and diving catches. It’s worth the wait. It’s not meant to be MTV with wooden bats. The TV and radio announcers drone, not yell. They partly tranquilize and analyze. Putting Dick Vitale on a big-league broadcast crew would be like hiring Axl Rose to sing lead with The Eagles. It’s just not baseball.
Baseball permits drifting off, occasionally. It’s an act of endearment. You could nap in your bed. You could change the channel. But, no. You’ve pledged three hours of your life to the Cubs and the Nationals. And even if you miss a five-run, three-error Washington top half of the sixth while you’re drooling on your T-shirt, you can sleep with the comforting knowledge that the Cubs still have 12 outs left.
When things get tense in the eighth and ninth, you’re rested. Psyched. Your tenacity has earned you the right to hear “the Cubs have the winning run on deck,” even if Aramis Ramirez soon takes a called third strike for the final out.
It’s not like televised golf, which, for me, has the same effect as Tylenol PM or anesthesia …
“Mickleson has about a 22-foot putt. Looks like it’ll break slightly left to right …”
Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, n-n-n-ninety-sev-uhh … zzzz …
Baseball, on the other hand, induces only catnaps – mere rest stops between the bench-clearing brawl and the three-run homer.
It’s a field of sweet dreams. True baseball fans pull a Keith Hernandez every once in a while.
Mark Bennett can be reached at (812) 231-4377 or mark.bennett@tribstar.com.
