ignorance is bliss

Sports are too much with us. Late and soon, sitting and watching--mostly watching on television--we lay waste our powers of identification and enthusiasm and, in time, attention, as more and more closing rallies and crucial putts and late field goals and final playoffs and sudden deaths and world records and world championships unreel themselves ceaselessly before our half-lidded eyes.
-Roger Angell

Living in D.C. but cheering for Texas sports teams and the Red Sox (and thus spending entirely too much time and money at sports bars), I dream of a television world in which I can see any game I wish and, while watching my game, hear any commentary I wish. Too often, because of presumed lack of area interest, I end up struggling to discern--through scratchy computer speakers--Craig Way and Keith Moreland detail the Longhorn's exploits on the gridiron or Jim Deshaies and Larry Dierker describe the Astros' feats on the field.

This year I decided to buy MLB TV's monthly package, which for $14.95 allowed me to view via high-speed internet connection almost any major league game, with the notable exception of the Red Sox-Cubs first meeting at Wrigley Field since the Sox won the World Series in 1918! (Yes, I called to complain about the blackout; yes, it was fruitless; and yes, I am still bitter.) Using my work computer (a PC with a huge monitor), I could almost convince myself that my dream had been realized, except for the occasional freeze of the broadcast feed. Meggiefreshh and I took to clapping at the damn machine in fruitless attempts to get the game going again; inevitably we would miss a Tek double or a Wake strikeout. The other problem with MLB TV? The medium provides no choice of commentary for games, and there is no greater injustice than a Red Sox fan having to listen to YES. (I will, however, admit to much amusement at the Blue Jays' announcers, mostly because I get a kick out of hearing Canadians say "strikeout.")

I think we'd all agree that the best way to experience a match-up is live. But I can't always be at Fenway or Minute Maid, at Royal Stadium or the Toyota Center. Next is watching a game on television, followed by watching on the internet. (See above for problems with those two scenarios.) Then comes listening on the radio. And last in preference would be following a game online, through ESPN's or SI's automatically updating gameday sections, or, even better, via a program like MLB's Gameday or NFL's Gamecenter.

These last options are extraordinary applications, especially in terms of information dissemination. Every statistic, every fact I could want is at a click of the mouse. Using them means that I am much, much more in the know than if I just watched TV, and in a different universe of informed than if I were attending the game. (All the beer I consume at live sporting events probably doesn't help either.) For instance, there is no way I could tell just by watching Morgan Ensberg bat--even over several games--whether he was hitting .275 or .300 during that time period. But on Gameday, a MicroMedia Flash application, I can see his season batting average, and his batting average against the current pitcher, and his batting average for the current month, and his fielding average, and the results of his last at-bats. You get the idea.

So, I find myself in the amusing position, through preferring to be in a stadium rather than in front of a computer, of actually choosing to know less. I don't know how to feel about that.