ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, April 28, 1996 TAG: 9604290099
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C-4 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BRIAN CULP
``What the heck is this?'' is an appropriate question. A few answers, then.
A drama. Without a script.
That's what a baseball game - or any sporting event, for that matter - really is. Like any great play, movie or novel, a baseball game has a clearly defined protagonist - the home team or the one your kid plays for - pitted against an evil antagonist - the visitors - who is trying to see the hero meet his doom. A game is full of lead characters, bit players and many subplots, all working toward the resolution of the drama's ultimate question: Who will win and who will lose? What's more, the roles of the participants can change from night to night.
Oh, and, by the way, there often is another literary element applied generously to a baseball game - comic relief.
So, am I comparing a night at the ballpark to an evening watching ``King Lear'' or some other Shakespearean play? Well, there are some similarities. Am I saying high school kids would be better served by coming to a Salem Avalanche game than spending afternoons poring over the ``Iliad''? Of course not. (I wouldn't mind finding out how area teens feel about the notion, however.)
What I am trying to do, though, is explain some of what makes baseball such a compelling sport. Baseball certainly is not an exciting sport in terms of on-field action; for pure thrills, it's a hands-down loser to football, hockey and basketball. So why on earth, then, would a respected newspaper let a 24-year-old designated hitter take up its valuable column space writing about a game that is at times just barely more exciting than watching paint dry?
The answer is that baseball is a game of stories. It is a game passed down through word of mouth, generation to generation, father to son. Some of my greatest baseball heroes are men I never saw play. Whan I was little, Ted Williams was a great hitter only because my dad said it was so.
Let's take the pace of the game: It's slow. Baseball doesn't so much happen as it unfolds. The pace of the game lends itself to the narrative; there is time for thought, reflection. When you sit down with a good book, there is no clock, no timer. You read until the story is done. Baseball also has no clock. Each game is given the space and time it needs to resolve itself.
This column will be my attempt to share with you some of the stories within the game. I hope it will give you some insight into how a player sees the game, and in turn, will make the game more fun to watch. It will be one player's view. I won't ever presume to speak for any other player, coach or staff member of the Avalanche.
It will not be a diary of the season. There won't ever be accounts of the ``We took an eight-hour bus trip to Wilmington and were really tired the next day'' sort. Diaries are boring. The only people interested in a diary are your parents when they discover where you've hidden it.
My only plan for this column is to tell a story. Most of these stories will be fun; I hope they will make you smile. Some may be serious; maybe they'll make you think. Who knows? I could even end up relating baseball to something off the field, like the presidential race. I just don't know yet. What I do know is that I'll just continue to write down my thoughts as the season progresses and let this column develop much as a baseball game does.
Without a script.
Brian Culp is a designated hitter-outfielder for the Salem Avalanche of the Class A Carolina League. His columns will appear from time to time throughout the 1996 season.
LENGTH: Medium: 68 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: (headshot) Culp.by CNB