Baseball: A Primer

Usually out of an unconscious sense of cultural superiority, English-speaking peoples often forget that countries other than those in the Anglo-American realm may not know our literature and movies and music, may not be familiar with, for instance, a classic novel such as Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels.

Then again, I am often reminded that other countries quite precisely know very well our cultural touchstones, the high and the low, the Jonathan Swifts as well as Taylor Swifts. (How could they not, powerful as we are?) I was reminded of that on Friday when, in a discussion of Gulliver's Travels, at Satisfactions--where, by the way, the meatball supreme sandwich is fantastic, the best of its kind I've ever had--a young Bulgarian jumped right in and offered a few observations on Swift's (Jonathan's, not Taylor's) great satirical work.

"Wait a minute," I interjected, paying little attention to what he had actually said. "People read Gulliver's Travels in Bulgaria?"

In fact they do, he told me. Astonished, I remained mute as he returned to discussing the novel.

A few moments later, a young Japanese man weighed in with his own reflections on Gulliver's Travels.

"Wait a minute," I interjected again. "People read Gulliver's Travels in Japan?"

All during our conversation, every television in Satisfactions was tuned to Game 6 of baseball's American League Championship Series. At our table were the Bulgarian, the Japanese fellow, a Chilean, a Brazilian, and me. From time to time my Japanese friend and I reacted to a play in the game--of course, the only two who had any idea what in the world was going on. "What are they doing?" the young man from Chile asked, waving his hands in exasperation. "They are running around, standing around, throwing the ball around . . . Why?" How can one possibly explain to him, in media res, that there were runners on first and second with two outs (I'd first have to explain what was an out and what was the significance of having two of them) and two strikes on the batter (ditto), that the runners were therefore running with the pitch (a piece of strategy that would need explaining), that the batter hit a ball into the stands in such a way that it was foul (explaining the concept of "fair" and "foul" would be necessary and difficult as well) and thus didn't count (and what might that mean?), that therefore the runners had to return to their original bases, and that, of all things, some man who looked old enough to be the players' grandfather had to reach into his pocket, take out a new ball, and toss it to the pitcher?

"I should write a primer on baseball," I announced, thinking of the baseball-challenged friends seated at the table with me. I was kidding.

"I think you should," said the Bulgarian. He was serious. And I could see on his face that he was eager to learn everything he could that was significant about Anglo-American culture--or at least in this case, American culture. I was surprised. Then again, I shouldn't have been. After all, they do read Gulliver's Travels in Bulgaria.