A sports scoreboard: part of the comfort zone of Americana

A sports scoreboard: part of the comfort zone of Americana

In this age of multi-tasking, social media and high tech frenzy, it seems we are seeking some areas of our lives that are comfort zones. Many are recognizing that constantly being ‘connected’ is not always psychologically healthy. I have found that one common comfort zone is often found attending a good old fashioned baseball game, complete with vendors and scoreboards.

The thought of a sports scoreboard as part of a comfort zone might seem odd to some. But, for me, it is a remembrance of childhood. Attending softball games for my Mom’s team, the scoreboard was part of both the home and away games. My sister and I would sit in the bleachers on warm summer afternoons and evenings, watching my mom and her team mates as they played with every ounce of devotion they had. We yelled with excitement as each run was completed and the then manual scoreboard had the point added.

We attended many games over the years, from Missouri to California. While there was a fairly large gap in attendance in my twenties, I was reintroduced to the fantasy and thrill when we attended a game at Angel’s Stadium in Anaheim, California. Walking into the entrance, I closed my eyes and the same smells and sounds flowed all around me. The buzz of the crowd and the smell of the hot dogs and fries brought me back to when I was ten years old. Sitting in our seats I was mesmerized by the electronic scoreboard. Fancy, bright and colorful, it drew the eyes as a focal point. Again, I was with my younger sister and even though we were older, there was something comforting about the scoreboard and a two teams playing with all of their heart. The board may have a modern more high tech look, but it gave me a feeling of being home.

The game was tight and no one seemed to notice how hot the day had become. With each batter that came up to the plate, fans yelled supporting words and screamed when a run came in. Our eyes darted to the scoreboard, making sure they added the point when our team did well. The organ music that is so well-known in baseball, played and played, encouraging our team and bonding all of our fellow fans together. When there was a discrepancy, we all looked at the scoreboard for a time out and when the game restarted.

Baseball fans are very devoted and, even though it had been years since my last game, I realized that I joined into the rallying cries. While hot dogs may be some of the worst food you can eat, my sister and I ate them, with mustard on our faces, eagerly looking from field to the scoreboard as the game continued.

After an afternoon of high energy, the game ended with our team losing. It wasn’t an easy defeat, and strangely, the crowd didn’t seem like it gave up on the team. You see, there is always another game, another afternoon and a fresh scoreboard. I left the game with a combination of being enthralled and relaxed. The game is part of our past, present and future and is as American as it gets.




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