Last night I went to see a Pittsburgh Pirates game at PNC Park. It’s a beautiful ballpark, and the Pirates thrashed the Chicago White Sox . . . and I was reminded, again, what a difference it makes to actually attend a baseball game rather than watch it on TV. The sounds of ball smacking catcher’s mitt and ball cracking off bat, the schuff slide of the third baseman as he makes a great play on a hotshot rocketing down the line, the clocklike movement of every player as a ball is hit to the outfield with runners on base: all of these are fundamental parts of the game that don’t really translate to the small screen. And when you have great seats — last night we were about five rows behind home plate — it’s even better. I ate a box of Cracker Jack, too.
Of course, it rained as I walked to the hotel. That’s one downside you don’t have when you watch a ballgame on TV.