There are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary. And there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I learned that, I gave Jesus a chance.
A good friend of mine used to say, ‘This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains.’ Think about that for a while.
~ from Bull Durham
When I first saw the title to this song, I immediately thought of Crash Davis in Bull Durham. The melody and the lyrics are all pretty depressing, but I suppose Crash’s situation as a whole is pretty depressing too. Had this song existed twenty years earlier, I have no doubt it would have been included in the Bull Durham soundtrack.
Careers end with a ground ball to shortstop, not with a home run.
~from Bull Durham
“My job isn’t to strike guys out. It’s to get them out, sometimes by striking them out.” ~Tom Seaver
“Relax, all right? Don’t try to strike everybody out. Strikeouts are boring! Besides that, they’re fascist. Throw some ground balls – it’s more democratic.” ~Crash Davis, Bull Durham
Two one-hitters were thrown in baseball yesterday.
Boston’s Jon Lester threw his one-hit shutout against the Toronto Blue Jays. It would have been a perfect game, except for the sixth-inning double given up to Maicer Izturis. Retiring 27 of 28 batters using only 118 pitches, Lester improved his season record to 5-0.
Meanwhile, in St. Louis, rookie right-hander Shelby Miller started off the game by giving up a single to Colorado’s Eric Young, but then proceeded to retire the next 27 batters. Miller recorded thirteen strikeouts during the game, eight of which were called, and improved his record to 5-2.
Congratulations to these two gentlemen on their fine performances.
I believe in the Church of Baseball. I’ve tried all the major religions, and most of the minor ones. I’ve worshiped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I heard that, I gave Jesus a chance. But it just didn’t work out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer metaphysics to theology.
You see, there’s no guilt in baseball, and it’s never boring… which makes it like sex. There’s never been a ballplayer slept with me who didn’t have the best year of his career. Making love is like hitting a baseball: you just gotta relax and concentrate. Besides, I’d never sleep with a player hitting under .250… not unless he had a lot of RBIs and was a great glove man up the middle.
You see, there’s a certain amount of life wisdom I give these boys. I can expand their minds. Sometimes when I’ve got a ballplayer alone, I’ll just read Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman to him, and the guys are so sweet, they always stay and listen. ‘Course, a guy’ll listen to anything if he thinks it’s foreplay. I make them feel confident, and they make me feel safe, and pretty. ‘Course, what I give them lasts a lifetime; what they give me lasts 142 games. Sometimes it seems like a bad trade. But bad trades are part of baseball – now who can forget Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas, for God’s sake? It’s a long season and you gotta trust it. I’ve tried ’em all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the Church of Baseball.
~Annie Savoy, Bull Durham