My Brother Went to the Ballpark Alone the Next Day

While I have zero interest in sports, my younger brother is crazy about almost every sport. Is there some kind of family sports preference balance going on? 🏀🏈 He practically lives in front of the sports channel when he’s home, watching everything from baseball and basketball to marathon races that look like still images to me. Even the commentators get bored because marathons have little change in pace, unlike soccer or basketball where exciting moments happen all the time. In marathons, commentators often focus more on the surroundings than the race itself, making it more of a comedy show than sports broadcasting. 🎭

‘Looks like it’s going to be a hot summer, huh?’

‘Right? So, I went all out and got a better air conditioner.’

‘Does it have a dehumidifier? I heard the rainy season’s going to be long.’

‘Oh, I’m not sure. Does it?’

‘I bet the athletes all got air conditioners too.’

‘The Russian athletes won’t need it. Too cold.’

‘Russia didn’t participate in this marathon…’

That’s how it goes. Marathon commentary seems impossible to do solo. Anyway, my brother loves sports so much that he watches marathons without caring about the silly talks. 🏃‍♂️


So, my brother once visited me in San Francisco just to watch baseball. Near the San Francisco Bay, there’s a huge ballpark called AT&T Park (now renamed Oracle Park). Until he came, I’d never thought about going, but once inside, it was surprisingly spacious and had a peaceful vibe. We grabbed hotdogs larger than our forearms from the food court and found our pre-booked seats. The outfield was right by the sea, so a powerful batter might just send the ball sailing into a yacht. 🌊⚾️

Soon, I heard the familiar organ music from baseball games, and the crowd erupted in cheers. It wasn’t pre-recorded; it was a live performance. Even as someone who doesn’t know much about baseball, the electrifying atmosphere made my heart race. But once the game started, my lack of interest in sports made me bored. To forget the boredom, I started asking my brother all sorts of questions…

(The catcher caught a fly ball above his head, and the crowd went wild)

– Why are they so excited just for catching the ball?
‘That’s another out.’
– So what?
‘…..’  

(An outfielder dropped a fly ball)
– Why did he miss that?
‘It’s not easy. He has to catch it while running.’
– Then just stop and catch it.
‘…..’

– 150 km/h seems slow, shouldn’t it be over 160 in the majors?
‘Not many in the majors throw that fast.’
– Like Randy Rose?
‘Randy Johnson…’

– Why can’t they hit it? It’s only 150 km/h.
‘It looks fast in real life.’
– Aren’t we watching it in real life right now?
‘….’

– Wow, a cycle hit!
‘It’s a Texas leaguer.’

– Oh! It’s a full house.
‘Full bases.’

‘Players’ names aren’t on their jerseys, just numbers, right? SK tried that in our country and got criticized. People couldn’t recognize the players.’
– There were names on jerseys?
‘….’

– Why is Bumgard’s beard so messy?
‘It’s Bumgarner…’

Bumgard spat. Can he do that?
‘It’s Bumgarner!!’

The next day, my brother went to watch baseball alone without telling me.

Posted

in

by

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *