Extra innings, 35 years later

Apr 19, 2026

You think baseball is one of those things that never changes. That’s its selling point: comfort.

After watching Pitch Perfect 1, 2, and 3 the whole way through (twice), I needed something else. I was recovering from pneumonia, and when my friend Ron mentioned baseball in passing, I suddenly realized watching a Pirates game sounded like the perfect solution. It checked all the boxes.

Let me rewind to mention I grew up watching baseball with my dad and going to Pirates games at the old Three Rivers Stadium. If we weren’t watching a night game and sitting in our “lucky seats,” the game was playing on the little portable radio—in the garage or outside while I rode my bike around the driveway or played in the sandbox and my dad was doing whatever dads do in garages. For eight or nine months every year of my childhood, there was baseball. We went to All-Star games and fireworks nights and double headers. We sat in bleachers through rain delays and did “the wave.”

I also played (softball). My dad coached a few times. He was very serious about it. We would go over the lineup together and all that. Needless to say, he taught me everything I know, and somehow his love for the game transferred to me.

But I hadn’t watched a game in 35 years—apart from a playoff game about 15 years back, which I watched at my good friend Scott’s house. I could never justify paying something like $200/season to watch what would most likely be only a few games.

But here was Ron telling me there’s some app that allows you to watch all your team’s games. It’s called SportsNet, and I couldn’t think of a better way to spend $20 in that moment—in the name of my recovery.

I’m telling you, I got my money’s worth. Those first two games I watched were some of the most exciting games I’ve ever seen. Just wild.

During the first one, a huge storm rolled through around the fourth inning (my lights were flickering and wind gusts were throwing rain onto my balcony windows, but it honestly took me a while to realize why the long commercial break). They returned later in the evening, went into extra innings, played through another heavy rain (errors left and right), and it just went on and on—they’d get a run, we’d get a run, we’d have bases loaded and not get a run … six hours, 13 innings (brought up memories of a game I watched in the ‘80s that went 18 innings).

What I didn’t realize is how stimulating it would be, how it would bring up the best in me—and so much emotion. Those games were rollercoasters, and somewhere between the stolen bases and the standup double from a bunt and the Pirates’ final victory of the series, I kept thinking, I don’t remember baseball being THIS exciting … I wonder if my dad is watching in.

I witnessed a guy hitting a ball that had bounced off the ground. I watched a runner slam into a fielder in the midst of a double play—and was confused when the inning was suddenly over without the out at first. I also didn’t understand how seemingly after every commercial break, I’d missed someone getting onto second.

Ron explained this all to me. Turns out, baseball has changed!

For anyone else who hasn’t watched baseball in 35 years (haha anyone?), some new rule calls an out automatically when a runner rams into a fielder. They also now start all extra innings with a guy on second to speed up the game (not sure how I feel about that). And now teams can “challenge” balls and strikes, and they refer to a replay to make the call. (They also show you a constant strike-zone square on every pitch, which I actually don’t enjoy. It’s more fun feeling like you’re an authority on the matter.)

Also, why were they wearing a different uniform the next day?

“All teams wear a million uniforms now,” Ron told me. “So they can sell more merch.”

because I could not find a baseball photo of us atm (I don’t know what the hell I’m doing in this picture)

Watching those games left me feeling more alive (it helped that the fever had finally broken). My love for the Pirates hitting a home run is my love for my dad and my love for a city and my love for my own childhood all rolled into one. Somehow a team becomes a symbol for that continuity, for something positive that spans generations.

I turned on the game for comfort, but it gave me so much more than that. There were moments when I choked up as I caught myself hooting or saying verbatim what my dad would have said—and then, as if so deeply ingrained in my body, my reactionary turn to look over at him to my right. I could almost see and hear my dad’s reactions right alongside my own.

ps if you like personal essays AND sports … Frederick News-Post sports editor Josh Smith is a great essayist and recently started a Substack! > > > Life of a Smith

I am beginning to feel better. I’m glad I got antibiotics. I am doing lots of resting in Pittsburgh (while livestreaming baseball games and Coachella). No idea when I’ll head out to the desert … one thing at a time.