Bluegrass and Baseball

Two of my all time favorite activities are bluegrass festivals and baseball games, and now that I'm pretty much unemployed (a.k.a. semi-retired) there's serious time to devote to both, so over the past few years I've been able to appreciate them on a regular basis. I've noticed, though, that while they live in two different world, by and large, and each pretty much appeals to two different groups of folks, still and all it occurs to me that both bluegrass and baseball have some strong commonalities.



My friend Ted Lehmann, for instance, has a knowledgeable and entertaining blog http://www.tedlehmann.blogspot.com/ which talks about, among other things, our shared passion for bluegrass music and festivals. In one of his recent posts, Ted talked about what he's learned from this spring's splurge in festivals, and one of his observations is that people come to them for a wide variety of reasons: some come to jam with other fans, some come to visit and socialize with old friends, some come for cheap camping, some come to pay serious attention to the music, some come for the food (for whom funnel cake is at the top of the nutritional pyramid), and some come for a little of each. Which is fine, just as it should be. Different strokes, etc.



I sit in the stands (interesting phrase!) at a baseball game and looking around the crowd I see exactly the same thing: some stay riveted to their seats and record every pitch in their scorecard (mea culpa), some form little (or large) circles and chat with friends, oblivious to the game, some bustle back and forth from one concession stand to another, some lean back, close their eyes, and take a little nap. And they're all, I assume, having a good time.

Another similarity is that both baseball and bluegrass are "au naturel" experiences, needing to be outdoors for peak enjoyment. Oh, I know: I've been to bluegrass festivals in auditoriums and convention centers, and I've been to ball games in covered stadiums played on artificial grass. But, as we say, it just ain't the same. Moving either indoors changes it from being a festival to a concert, from being a ball game to an exhibition. They belong out of doors, where God intended them to be.

One more example. There are some truly fine professional musicians playing at festivals, veterans of many years of performing in this difficult genre. They put on shows which provide great entertainment and inspire much awe, and I would not for a minute disparage their work. Yet at the same time, I find even more entertainment when sitting with a small group of amateurs jamming in the parking lot or playing on a makeshift stage at a small festival. The immediacy of that music adds a new dimension to my enjoyment of it.

So it is with baseball. Watching some college guys playing their hearts out for nothing more than the triumph of winning is far more exciting and rewarding than sitting in a seat far removed from the playing field and watching the same game on a higher skill level being played by professionals for mega millions. Is it a superior baseball game? Well, on one level, sure, just as Rhonda Vincent (for example) puts on a superior bluegrass show. Yet there is often more power, more emotion, more energy, in seeing amateurs play baseball and bluegrass.

We were sitting around our back porch this evening, giving me some gist for this blog, and all kinds of similarities very quickly emerged. Give it a try yourself, and find some common ground between bluegrass festivals and baseball games.