0
3000
Posted by D
on
3:39 PM
3000 is a big number. It is 100 Crave Cases. It is 250 twelve-packs of Bud Light. It is 300,000 pennies. It is 16 years.
Derek Jeter finally got his 3000th hit today. Jeter has been the Yankees' starting shortstop since 1996, when I was 7 years old. Although I am still a passionate Yankee fan, I was much more crazed when I was younger. 60 homers meant something to me. So did hitting streaks, fielding percentage, and the All-Star Game. Now that I'm older, arbitrary milestones (like 3000 hits) don't have nearly as much appeal to me. How is 3000 that different from 2999 or 2998?
As Jeter was approaching 3000, I thought when the moment finally came, I would feel just like I did when A-Rod hit his 600th homer or when Clemens got his 300th win. Those milestones were hollow for me. Not because I have become disillusioned by steroids or over-commercialization, but because I no longer see much significance in round numbers. Jeter did not become a great player when he reached 3000. He did not finally become a hall of famer when the ball landed in the left field seats. We learned nothing today that we didn't know yesterday or even last year.
When I watch sports, I don't have the same experience that other people have. I believe that when other people watch sports, they see themselves in what they are seeing. They connect the former athletic greatness of their childhoods with their favorite teams and star places. I guess it's a type of nostalgia. Although sports in general have some special quality that captures the imaginations of generations, baseball stands out as being magical. Although perhaps overdone, Field of Dreams captures that majesty. I don't share that experience. I am unusually intellectual about sports. Numbers mean something to me, just not the ones that most people care about (Fangraphs.com). I am what you might call a sabermetric-enthuasiast. If you know what that is, I am very impressed.
In the weeks leading up to Jeter's 3000th hit, many people asked me how I felt about Jeter's big milestone. I am widely known for being a super intense Yankee fan (more so when I was younger). I think people are still surprised when I tell them milestones don't matter that much to me. I care about value and efficiency, not magical moments and good stories. But when Jeter's hit landed in the crowd, I smiled. Surprisingly, I swelled with pride as I watched my shortstop round the bases. That's right, my shortstop. He has been the starting shortstop (the most popular position on the field) for my childhood team since I was 7 years old. As he stepped on home plate and was greeted by all of his teammates, I thought about all of the great memories that Jeter has given me in my life. As cold and intellectual as I've become about sports, I was reminded today that like everybody else, I can still be consumed by the majesty and storybook qualities of sports. I thought I had lost that. I'm glad I haven't.
D
|
Derek Jeter finally got his 3000th hit today. Jeter has been the Yankees' starting shortstop since 1996, when I was 7 years old. Although I am still a passionate Yankee fan, I was much more crazed when I was younger. 60 homers meant something to me. So did hitting streaks, fielding percentage, and the All-Star Game. Now that I'm older, arbitrary milestones (like 3000 hits) don't have nearly as much appeal to me. How is 3000 that different from 2999 or 2998?
As Jeter was approaching 3000, I thought when the moment finally came, I would feel just like I did when A-Rod hit his 600th homer or when Clemens got his 300th win. Those milestones were hollow for me. Not because I have become disillusioned by steroids or over-commercialization, but because I no longer see much significance in round numbers. Jeter did not become a great player when he reached 3000. He did not finally become a hall of famer when the ball landed in the left field seats. We learned nothing today that we didn't know yesterday or even last year.
When I watch sports, I don't have the same experience that other people have. I believe that when other people watch sports, they see themselves in what they are seeing. They connect the former athletic greatness of their childhoods with their favorite teams and star places. I guess it's a type of nostalgia. Although sports in general have some special quality that captures the imaginations of generations, baseball stands out as being magical. Although perhaps overdone, Field of Dreams captures that majesty. I don't share that experience. I am unusually intellectual about sports. Numbers mean something to me, just not the ones that most people care about (Fangraphs.com). I am what you might call a sabermetric-enthuasiast. If you know what that is, I am very impressed.
In the weeks leading up to Jeter's 3000th hit, many people asked me how I felt about Jeter's big milestone. I am widely known for being a super intense Yankee fan (more so when I was younger). I think people are still surprised when I tell them milestones don't matter that much to me. I care about value and efficiency, not magical moments and good stories. But when Jeter's hit landed in the crowd, I smiled. Surprisingly, I swelled with pride as I watched my shortstop round the bases. That's right, my shortstop. He has been the starting shortstop (the most popular position on the field) for my childhood team since I was 7 years old. As he stepped on home plate and was greeted by all of his teammates, I thought about all of the great memories that Jeter has given me in my life. As cold and intellectual as I've become about sports, I was reminded today that like everybody else, I can still be consumed by the majesty and storybook qualities of sports. I thought I had lost that. I'm glad I haven't.
D
|
