Going for Three (One Sixty-Two: Day 67)

Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.

Day Sixty-Seven: Ichiro Suzuki, Seattle Mariners

I think I’ve finally broken through. At long last, I have come to appreciate soccer. And baseball has shown me the way.

I’ve tried, every four years, to lose myself to soccer. I’ve watched those graceful, gritty Brazilians, Argentinians, Germans, Dutch and Italians, as they’ve glided up and down the pitch in search of the goal that will bring their country untold glory and honor. I’ve watched these men’s World Cup matches, and, to be honest, I’ve struggled. Struggled to find enjoyment in 90 minutes without a single score. Struggled to understand just what these soccer fans out there are seeing. Wondered if they were seeing something that I just couldn’t see.

As I’ve watched pieces of this year’s 2010 World Cup, I haven’t had an epiphany, where I now see every facet of beauty in the game. High-definition is good, but not that good. Yet, I have figured some things out, and I’ve done it by viewing soccer through the prism of my own passion of cowhide and red stitches.

The one thing I’ve always known about soccer is that there are very few moments in sport as thrilling as the scoring of a goal. The electricity of the goal is on par with the boxing knockdown, the horseracing photo finish, the basketball fast break, the hockey breakaway, and the football “Hail Mary” pass. In baseball, the most exciting play I’ve ever seen is the triple. And it is here that I see my way into soccer.

When you’re at a ballgame, there is nothing like it – a line drive is hit in the gap, it splits two outfielders, and the ball rolls all the way to the wall. As the runner nears second base, he makes a quick, aggressive decision and kicks his legs into another gear. The fans pop to their feet and shout, “He’s going for three!” The outfielder grabs the ball and throws to his cutoff man, who then fires a line drive to third. The runner dives head-first, the umpire keeps his eyes glued to the white base, and a cloud of dust kicks up on the left side of the diamond. We look to the man in black, who makes the call.

So imagine, if you will, a baseball game in which teams can only score a run if they hit a triple. Think about that for a second – no home runs, no stolen bases, no ground-rule doubles, no singles. Just triples, or else you’re out. And teams would still be required to play their nine men in the traditional defensive positions, or else they’d be called offside. It would be a much, much lower-scoring affair, but teams would have to strategize on how to hit the ball in ways that make a three-bagger more possible. They’d also set their defense in order to defend better against the triple.

So there would be no home-run heroes, with bulging triceps and slow trots around the bases. There’d be no stolen-base thieves, who turn singles into doubles. Instead, the sport’s heroes would be men who could manipulate the bat to shoot the baseball into those gaps, or along the foul lines. These heroes also would have speed on the basepaths and in the field, and perhaps even a strong arm to throw out those runners on their way to third.

In a game like this, a man like Ichiro Suzuki of the Seattle Mariners would be a dominant player in his sport. With his 70 career triples, his ability to maneuver the bat like a magician (2,132 hits in 9½ years), and his rocket arm (nine Gold Glove awards in nine years), Ichiro has all the tools needed to produce and stop triples. He would join the likes of Carl Crawford of Tampa Bay, Shane Victorino and Jimmy Rollins of Philadelphia, and Jose Reyes of the Mets as baseball’s most important players.

It would be a lower-scoring sport, all right, but what a roar you’d hear when those triples appeared. Instead of the “Goal!” calls we hear now, it would be a “Three!” Some fans would complain that the sport is too slow. But others would call it pure, gorgeous, and brilliant. Ichiro, who is arguably the world’s most famous baseball player already, would be even more popular across the globe.

So that’s my in – I’ve selected the most beautiful part of the sport I love, and connected it to soccer. I’m still not sure what a yellow card means, nor do I get the whole offside thing. But it takes a lot of strategy, skill and speed to score those gorgeous goals. I can see that, at least. I’m getting there. My appreciation of soccer hasn’t completed its circuit yet, but I’m standing on third base. And I like the view.