I have come to understand that baseball is a perfect metaphor for hope in a democratic society. It has to do with the rules of play. It has to do with the mode of enforcement of these rules. It has to do with certain nuances and grace notes of the game.

First, it has to do with the remarkable symmetry of everything. All those threes and multiples of three calling attention to … the game’s noble equality.

Equality, that is, of opportunity. Everyone is given exactly the same chance. And the opportunity to exercise that chance at its own pace. There’s none of that scurry, none of that relentlessness that marks other games…

What I mean is, in baseball there is no clock. What could be more generous than to give everyone all of these opportunities and the time to seize them in, as well? And with each turn at the plate, there’s the possibility of turning the situation to your favor. Down to the very last try.

And then, to ensure that everything remains fair, justices are ranged around the park to witness and assess the play. And if the justice errs, an appeal can be made. It’s invariably turned down, but that’s part of what makes the metaphor so right. Because even in the most well-meant of systems, error is inevitable. Even within the fairest of paradigms, unfairness will creep in.

And baseball is better than democracy – at least than democracy as it is practiced in this country – because unlike democracy, baseball acknowledges loss. While conservatives tell you, “Leave things alone and no one will lose,” and liberals tell you, “Interfere a lot and no one will lose,” baseball says, “Someone will lose.” Not only says it – insists upon it!

So baseball achieves the tragic vision that democracy evades. Evades and embodies.
Democracy’s lovely, but baseball’s more mature.

Another thing I like is the home-run trot.