Take Me Out to the Debate

Four years ago, I asked a friend a pointed question: “Which do you think would be worse, the Red Sox defeating the Yankees in the playoffs, or George Bush defeating John Kerry?” His response was simple: Let’s not take our baseball too seriously here.

He was right. I didn’t get either of the victories I was looking for in 2004, but it was only the latter that made a difference. Four years later, I don’t have the luxury of rooting for the Yankees in the playoffs this season. But I do have my vote, and in October 2008 the American presidential race is really the only game of consequence.

As I watched the final presidential debate Wednesday night, I found myself reflecting on the emotions I’ve felt while watching these contests. This year, I find myself deeply invested in one ticket, as I believe Senators Obama and Biden are clearly the more qualified candidates. With that in mind, I’ve found my body language during these debates to be strikingly similar to the behavior I show during Yankees playoff games.

I can’t sit still. I roam from room to room, cleaning the house while listening to their words. I stop and watch one of them answer a question, but when the back-and-forth gets going, my heart races some more. I move about the house again, making my lunch for the next day or getting my clothes ready. In Wednesday’s final debate, with Obama riding high in the polls, I felt as though I were watching Mariano Rivera pitch the Yankees through the ninth inning, trying to hold onto that lead by staying cool under pressure. Even so, that pressure was too much to take through the constricted medium of a television set.

I watched the CNN Ohio voters give their immediate reactions to the words in the debate, and it reminded me of the scrolling ticker at the bottom of a sports event. I listened to the political pundits speak after the debates, and their partisan bickering seemed as predictable as the goofy back-slapping in modern postgame sports desks. Even so, I found myself glued to the post-debate analysis, even though I knew what was going to be said – just as I find myself watching those postgame playoff interviews, even when I know players will give the standard responses. I even watched replays of key moments in the debates, just as I turn to SportsCenter after a big game to see the postgame highlights.

There are similarities between these Fall Classics, all right. But there are differences, too. The thing about a baseball game is that the fan at home has no impact whatsoever on whether the favorite team wins or loses. But democracy is different; the candidates’ fans don’t have to sit idly. So I’ve made my donation. I’ve got my lawn sign and car magnet. I’ve helped a half-dozen people register to vote. I’m thinking about taking a drive to Pennsylvania or spending a few hours on the phone with voters in North Carolina.

It’s the late innings, and my candidate needs to seal the deal. I’m willing to answer the call. Mariano Rivera doesn’t need me to do that.

Blazing a Trail

Katie is angry at Barack Obama. My oldest daughter wanted to see a woman serve as our next president. Hillary Clinton was her choice, and because Obama defeated Clinton, Katie strongly dislikes the presumptive Democratic nominee. At age 6, Katie’s take-charge approach to life at home leads me to believe that she relates to the idea of being a chief executive – although occasionally her behavior leans more toward dictatorship than democracy (“Chelsea, I want my toy back now!”)

The other day, as my wife and good friend Neil were talking about the presidential campaign, Katie heard their conversation and said, “I like John McCain.” Both Neil and Amy looked over to her and asked why she preferred McCain. She said, “He’s good on energy.” Uncle Neil’s eyebrows pursed as he asked her, “Where did you hear that?” Her response was simple: “That’s what it said on the commercial.”

Neil, who is a lawyer, was not going to let Katie off easy here. “How do you know that what the commercial says is true?” he asked. Katie’s response: “Because at the end he said, ‘I’m John McCain, and I approve this message.’ ” Neil explained that this commercial was paid for by the candidate’s campaign. He asked her if she would pay for a commercial that said she was the best bicycle rider in the world. She said she would.

“But are you?” Neil asked.
“No,” Katie replied quietly.
Chalk one up for Uncle Neil.

The girls like to watch baseball with me. They love the fact that I have a passion apart from work and family. Last week, while watching a game on TV with me, Katie said, “I wish I was a boy.”

“Why?” I asked.
“So I could play baseball,” she said.

I explained to her that she could definitely play baseball as a girl. Even though most girls chose to play softball, some have chosen to play baseball with the boys. It’s not impossible to do. Eventually, I said, there will be a woman who plays professional baseball.

“Who says you can’t be the one who does it first?” I asked.

Katie shrugged her shoulders and thought about it awhile. Somewhere in that blossoming brain of hers, there are thoughts of women running our country and girls running 90-foot bases.

I like that a lot. I approve that message.