I was home this weekend flipping through the channels, when I saw that a few stations had a nice little baseball theme to their programming. Movies like “Eight Men Out”, “The Natural,” and “Field of Dreams,” were scheduled to air throughout the day.

Of course, I’m neglecting to mention that TNT aired “Hardball,” that mess of a Keanu Reeves movie that’s not good enough to lick the boots of “The Bad News Bears.”

So I settled in to watch “Field of Dreams.” There’s something about that movie that I love. The part I love the most is the scene where Timothy Busfield is trying to get Kevin Costner to sign over the deed to the farm so his partners won’t foreclose on the house and evict him and his family. All of the old-time ball players are standing around, and of course, Timothy can’t see them. Then James Earl Jones, with his booming voice and khaki suspenders recites the following:

“The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again.”

I love this dialogue. Perhaps it’s only because when I hear James Earl Jones speak these words, my brain becomes mesmerized by his pattern of speech.

So after watching ghostly ballplayers lope around in a cornfield, and Roy Hobbs circle the bases amidst showering sparks while he bleeds from the stomach, and Keanu make a mockery of Biggie Smalls, I settled in to watch the opening day Orioles/Red Sox game at 8:05pm.

And damn, if I wasn’t bored to tears. Sure, I like watching the Orioles (the hometown favorites) win and all, but I just can’t get excited about investing three hours in a game that means essentially nothing.

I mean, sure, if it were a three-hour football game, sign me up! There are only fifteen more of those in a season. But to watch a three-hour baseball game, dragged out by the pitching coaches trotting to the mound to inspire their tiring players, or by batters stepping out of the box to knock some dirt loose from their cleats, or by a pitch being interrupted by trying to pick off a base runner (whom at 280 pounds you know isn’t going anywhere) knowing full well that there are 179 of these left in the friggin’ season? Jeez, who wouldn’t tune out?!

And then I realize that as nice as that speech of James Earl Jones’ sounds, what James is saying is utter crap. Baseball has not marked the time. Gone are the days where families would go to the ballpark for an outing. More and more, people are becoming apathetic about the so-called American Pastime.

Actually, football has surpassed baseball as the more popular sport. And as much as I’m fighting it tooth and nail, I suppose NASCAR will eventually overtake baseball in popularity, although for the life of me I can’t imagine anything less thrilling than paying to see cars zoom around in a circle.

And with rising ticket prices, astronomical vending costs, and discoveries that the record breakers of today’s game are all steroid freaks, who can blame our waning interest in the sport?

When did it stop being about something simple like playing catch with your dad? When did it become about feuds between players and owners, and players holding out for multi-million dollar contracts? When did baseball stop being something special, something sacred, and turn into some corporatized machine?

Only six more months ‘till football season! Woo-hoo!

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