Baseball Fever

Baseball Fever Growing up in Cleveland, April (when not snowing:) always meant Tribe Season. The sight and smells of blooming flowers triggers baseball memories and jingles like "Indian fever, be a believer." Attending games in the old Municipal Stadium and "The Jake" are an integral part of my childhood spring and summer recollections. Another important baseball fixture of my childhood was our backyard family pickup games. Growing up surrounded with 5 brothers and 3 male first cousins who lived across the street, we basically had our own built-in baseball team, and we played a lot of outdoor sports. Tackle football was our go-to in the winter and running bases in the summer. The one constant rule of these games was my insistence that "Get's a lickin', keeps on tickin,'" borrowed from the old Timex commercials. That meant that unless there was blood, and lot of it, you stayed in the game. Getting injured was for sissies. My dear cousin Rabbi Yosef likes to remind me of the time that he fell and hurt his arm and wanted to sit out for the rest of the game. I, as the oldest cousin there, invoked the old "Get's a lickin'" rule and insisted that he stay in the game. When he got home, his mother, my dear Aunt Beverly, of blessed memory, noticed that something just wasn't right with the shape of his arm and took him in for X-rays. Lo and behold, it was broken in no less than 3 places. We still share a good chuckle reminiscing that story. But back to the Major Leagues: other than the great American vs. National League Designated Hitter controversy, almost everything else about baseball seemed to be unflappable, like a reliable comfort food. But, alas, winds of change are blowing over Progressive Field. This is the last year that I will be rooting for the "Cleveland Indians." The franchise will be undergoing a name change. In an effort to boost attendance (interest) and increase revenue (someone has to come up with $341 Million to pay Francisco Lindor) some change-up pitches will be making their way over the MLB baseball plate. Some of the classic rules will be adjusted. Double-headers will be trimmed down to 7 innings each, and extra innings will begin with a runner on second base. How do these changes make you feel? Personally, I have mixed feelings. Since I always find myself viewing things through the lens of Judaism, and my belief in the importance of immutable traditions, I feel that rules are extremely important. Once you start to pull out threads from the fabric of anything institutional, it no longer remains the same original system. Hypothetically, if the MLB organization would vote to shorten the game to 7 players and 5 bases, would it still be "baseball," or would that make it something else entirely? I realize that I'm probably overthinking this. After all, this is just some man-made pastime from Hoboken, New Jersey, not a divinely transmitted establishment from Mt. Sinai. But it did get me thinking about how much our society has gotten used to the idea of human involvement in changing rules to fit the times. As sensitivities change with the times, people can amend old rules, or propose new ones, and have them voted into law in order to accommodate cultural and societal norms. Contrast that to Jewish law where the exact opposite is true. Instead of changing the law to fit into our modern definition of right and wrong, our cultural norms are shaped and often defined through the Torah's perspective of right and wrong. Ancient law is applied to modern scenarios, instead of the reverse. This might not always be politically correct or socially on trend, but it does help guarantee Jewish continuity, which is a worthwhile tradeoff, in my humble opinion. As I like to say, the letter of the law preserves the spirit of the law. So while the changing of the rules, and the changing of the times, always makes me a little uneasy, I know one thing won't change: as soon as the snow melts, get out there and play ball! Shabbat Shalom, Rabbi Koval