I Miss Baseball, Medically Speaking

The coronavirus-induced 41-state lockdown has us all longing for activities from our once normal life. I miss my friends and seeing family members. My toes and hairline miss both my pedicurist and my barber respectively. But what I really miss is baseball. Like clockwork, the end of March Madness brings April Fondness for the resumption of my first true love. Covid-19 has successfully stolen baseball from me like the Grinch who tried to steal Christmas. I always welcome Opening Day by marinating in my Baseball Dictionary. Each season brings a new collection of thematic baseball words and phrases. I’ve written about foods and animals, as well as geographical, spiritual, political, and romantic terms. And this season, with baseball in quarantine, what could be more appropriate than a compilation of medical and global pandemic baseball terms. Here goes:

A is for Aspirin:

The ball thrown by a fastball pitcher, in which it appears smaller than it is. Along with Advil, what not to take if you have coronavirus-like symptoms. Tylenol is recommended.

B is for Bleacheritis:

The name of a mock disease for the deteriorated physical conditioning of those who have given up active participation in athletics and become spectators. Every time I think I’ve kicked my case of bleacheritis I end up pulling a hip-flexor muscle playing slow-pitch softball.

C is for Chinese Blow:

A lucky hit; a fluke hit. Or the unfortunate impact of the coronavirus on the world.

D is for Doctoring:

Gaining an edge illegally by making the ball move erratically after it has been pitched. Also what the superhero physicians and nurses are doing to combat the coronavirus in the hospitals and medical centers day in and day out.

E is for Ear Syphilis:

A condition in which an umpire is overly sensitive to comments from players and fans and allows his performance to be affected. Or the condition affecting the people who refuse to listen to the shelter at home and social distancing guidelines. 

F is for Filthy: 

Said of a pitch that features a combination of speed, movement, and location that makes it unhittable. The speed in which Covid-19 has moved to nearly every location in the world makes it a truly filthy virus.

G is for Glove and a Prayer:

The assets of an ineffective pitcher. Also the only remaining tools of medical workers during the hospital-mask shortage.

H is for Hospital Throw:

A throw by an infielder to another that leaves the latter exposed to injury by a sliding or charging base runner. Also, the method used by doctors and nurses to share their under-supplied face masks.

I is for In the Neighborhood:

Said of a fielder who is close enough to touch a base. Or the only place Beautiful Karla and I can walk while the beaches and hiking trails are currently closed. 

J is for June Bug:

A rookie who is sent back down to the minor leagues by early summer. Or what we might be faced with if the virus isn’t eradicated by the end of May.

K is for Kill the Rally:

To end a scoring opportunity, such as by making the third out with the bases loaded. Or what the virus has done to President Trump’s and Joe Biden’s campaign gatherings. 

L is for Loaf Season:

A sarcastic term for the off-season. People around the country are using this time to learn new hobbies or skills. I’ve taken up yoga and in the truest sense of the term, bread baking.

M is for Mask Work:

The catcher’s duties. And what is now everyone’s practice when leaving home for groceries or errands.

N is for “No Catch”:

The plate umpire’s call when the pitch is in the dirt on strike three. Or what all who don’t acquire the virus will proclaim at the end of this predicament.

O is Official Distance:

Any field measurement stipulated by the official rules of the game; e.g., the distance between the bases is 90 feet. Six feet is the only official distance we care about right now. 

P is for Poisoned Bat:

The bat held by a hard hitter. Also what someone in China ate that started this whole mess.

R is for Ryanitis:

A mock disease that mysteriously struck hitters on the day they were scheduled to face all-time strikeout leader Nolan Ryan. Synonymous with Mr. Gervaseitis which is what my students have when they “forget” to open their google classroom while distance learning.

 

Nolan Ryan

Steve Sax Disease:

The sudden inability for a fielder to make routine throws. Named for the LA Dodgers’ second baseman who became plagued by wild throws. Or what doctors and nurses experience when their hospital throws are off target.

Steve Sax

T is for Two-Way Player:

A player who is proficient on both offense and defense; i.e. the Angels Shohei Ohtani. See also moms and dads trying to work from home and lead their kids through their schoolwork. 

Shohei Ohtani

U is for Untouchable:

Said of a player who would not be considered for a trade to another team. Also the feelings of someone with ear syphilis regarding their chances of catching the coronavirus.

V is for Velocity:

The speed of a pitch; that which determines a good fastball. The coronavirus’ velocity to circle the globe is equal to Nolan Ryan’s best fastball. 

W is for Wait ‘Til Next Year:

The plaintive mantra of fans whose team has once again fallen short of expectations. Also what many parents are telling their children regarding summer travel and vacations. 

Y is for Yard Work:

A home run. Also, along with Honors Chores and AP Cooking, what a lot of kids are studying during the quarantine.

Z is for Zip:

To shut out, i.e. Tigers Zip Yankees in 10 Innings, 1-0. Or to move quickly: The pitcher made his fastball zip across the plate. Also what the government is recommending us to do away from home. See also Nada, Zero, and Zilch.

Stay safe and stay healthy my friends.