MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN | A few weeks ago when the second round of the U.S. Mid-Am was washed out for the day because of torrential rain, I unexpectedly had room in the schedule for a growing tradition of mine: attending a baseball game in a tournament’s host city.
The Milwaukee Brewers were playing the Cincinnati Reds that afternoon and, mercifully, American Family Field has a retractable roof.
I enjoy pairing the two because baseball and golf are kindred spirits. They are games of process and strategy. Their histories are revered, and it’s vital context for current-day accomplishments. Brawny golf courses like Mid-Am host Erin Hills are referred to as “big ballparks,” and wasn’t it Hank Aaron – who played in Milwaukee with the Braves and Brewers – who jokingly said one of his rounds on the golf course produced nearly as many hits as he recorded in his legendary baseball career?
Detractors say the professional versions of both sports aren’t what they once were. They lament how each fails to captivate the masses in a restless modern world and how they have been fundamentally worsened by evolving into a swing-for-the-fences approach. There are too many games, too many tournaments. Last month, a bevy of dramatic rules changes were passed by Major League Baseball in an effort to shorten games and restore a competitive equilibrium. Golf, with a similar mission, has equipment regulations rounding second base at the same time it manages an unprecedented fracturing of top players.
Take a few swings, watch a few swings, eat a few wings, check in with the golf being played on one of the many TVs. Is this heaven? No, it’s Wisconsin.
But for all their warts, I have loved watching golf and baseball throughout my life. I remember as an 11-year-old kid going to multiple playoff games with my dad during the Florida Marlins’ magical run to their 2003 World Series triumph. I can close my eyes and remember exactly where I was sitting during those games, recalling crucial moments and our running out of the stadium after a walk-off win so we could beat traffic. Similarly, I can recount with vivid detail standing with my dad on the fourth tee at Bay Hill in 2004 watching Tiger hit a tee shot. A couple of years ago, by a wild coincidence, ESPN tweeted out a photo of that exact shot with my dad and I standing with each other. They put the image next to a current-day gallery watching Woods, every single fan raising their cellphones to record video of the shot.
That photo is at the heart of my next statement: Technology has changed my relationship with watching baseball and golf. I’m straight-up depressed about it. Those memories don’t occur quite as naturally anymore because it’s a battle to stay fully present as a viewer, my tolerance for pitching changes and five-hour rounds decreasing with each year. I still appreciate and love them, no matter what rules are changed or what rival leagues emerge. But without an intermittent moment of being enthralled by a player or situation, I have to be multitasking to consume them, and it flattens the experience. The average age of the MLB audience (57) and pro golf viewer (north of 60) seems to verify that I’m not alone.
I bear good news from my latest stadium trip, however. The Brewers have just installed my dream solution. In left field, not far from Bernie the Brewer’s home run slide, there are seven state-of-the-art golf simulators, three of which overlook the field.
Now I’m just waiting for someone to tell me there is a makeshift home run derby being contested at the Players Championship.
Sean Fairholm
E-MAIL SEAN
Top: Hunter Renfroe of the Milwaukee Brewers fields a fly ball during a game against the Cincinnati Reds at American Family Field.