Every morning, I pull myself out of bed around six-ish o’clock. Not long after seven I walk to the local bagel joint, one of the few establishments spared during the outbreak. Day in and day out, the same routine. The saving grace? Taiwanese baseball.
With the United States becoming the global epicenter and negotiations between major league owners and players in stalemate, I found my savior in the small island nation. Thanks to an effective government response, Taiwan’s Chinese Professional Baseball League was up and running before any other major sports league in the world. With easy access to English commentary for live broadcasts, it was an offer I simply could not refuse.
Of course, there was some initial culture shock. The most notable one being the cheerleaders. Something that would seem out of place in the traditionally minded game that baseball is, the continuous enthusiasm displayed by the cheerleaders as they sought to pump up the non-existent crowds after every homer was welcomed in an increasingly dour situation.
Despite the teams being named after the corporations that own them and one of the mascots being a severed fish head, baseball is baseball. Beggars can’t be choosers during a world altering plague.
Sure, the pitching might be atrocious and some games end up with score lines that seem more applicable to football than baseball, but there’s a certain charm to it all. While the small ball tactics of bunting and base-stealing have fallen out of favor in America, the fast paced practices remain alive and well in Taiwan.
While at times the play on the field can be sloppy, as a Mets fan, I’ve come to accept that something does not have to be perfect in order to be enjoyable, and during this quarantine, that’s all you can ask.
