Lillia Sellars got a blank look on her 9-year-old face when I asked her about baseball's unwritten code. She didn't know anything about it or Goose Gossage or even Bryce Harper.
Lillia just wants baseball to be exciting, which brings us back to the code and Gossage and Harper.
Baseball's culture war went nuclear last week when Gossage ripped Harper, celebrations, instant replay, front-office nerds, drug cheats, indoor plumbing and how his 8-track tape player keeps clicking over in the middle of "Smoke on the Water."
All that because Harper said baseball is a "tired sport" that could used some celebratory spice. Gossage, widely dubbed the "Angry Old Man Yelling at Kids to Get Off His Lawn," obviously did not agree that baseball's code should be loosened to allow players to celebrate like Steph Curry or Cam Newton do.
Harper thinks that will help prevent the next generation from abandoning the game. I went to the Tigers-Pirates game over the weekend to see what the next generation really thinks. The first problem was finding it.
Maybe one out of 100 fans at Joker Marchant Stadium was born in this century. Of the half-dozen I polled, all were pro-celebration.
"Especially if the Tigers do it," said 10-year-old Jacob Skidmore.
His mom threw in a caveat.
"I like to see players get excited," Dianna Skidmore said. "Just not too excited."
And therein lies the rub.
Where do you draw the line? And once we endorse public displays of excitement, won't the line keep moving?
Progressives like Harper are right when they say the line needs some relocation. Dramatics, like Jose Bautista's cross-Canada bat-flip after hitting a crucial home run in last year's playoffs, shouldn't be muffled by some cryptic code.
If you're like Lillia and don't know the code, it is the unwritten rules Abner Doubleday whispered on his death bed and passed down since. Among the first commandments:
Thou shalt not gloat over home runs or other great plays, lest you get a fastball in the ribs the next time up.
Bautista aside, I've always sort of liked that one. Of course, my celebratory hero is Walter Payton. He'd score a touchdown and toss the ball back to the official.
No ego-mania. No Me-Me-Me. Act as if you've been there before.
I realize such self-restraint is very Old Man. It doesn't trend on Twitter or make SportsCenter highlights. But God help us if Terrell Owens makes the majors.
Wait, he already did. Sort of.
Remember when Prime Time met America's Pastime? Deion Sanders wouldn't run out a pop fly, but he would draw dollar signs in the dirt when he stepped in the batter's box.
Carlton Fisk couldn't take it. The Hall of Fame catcher took off his mask one day and told Sanders to start playing the game the right way or he'd kick his butt.
Mayhem ensued. It was code enforcement at its finest.
There's a difference between spontaneous exuberance and being a turkey. And turkeys inevitably try to out-turkey each other.
Owens' antics begat Joe Horn pulling a cell phone out of his sock, which begat Doug Baldwin pretending to poop out a football after scoring. All of which has spawned receivers breaking into Mark Gastineau mode after making first-down catches.
How long until we see some guy get out a Sharpie and autograph third base after hitting a triple?
Time and tastes march on, so it seems we'll just have to live with that prospect. If the public wants less code and more excitement, we'll just have to adjust.
So welcome to our lawns, just please don't draw dollar signs in the dirt. Angry Old Men can take only so much progress.
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