Today we got an answer to an age-old philosophical question: if they play a baseball game and no one is there to see it, does it make a sound?
Answer: yes, but only if it's televised (or on radio, I suppose).
Because of the civil disturbances in Baltimore, the Orioles had the first two games of their series with the Chicago White Sox postponed. Presumably because of a desire not to lose too many games (that would likely require making up, considering that the Orioles and White Sox are both likely playoff contenders), today's game was moved up to 2:00 p.m. and played in a stadium with no spectators. This weekend's series against Tampa Bay, scheduled for Camden Yards (still one of the best stadiums in baseball), is being moved to Tropicana Field (not as bad as people make it out to be, but still one of the worst), although Baltimore will still function as the "home" team, batting last. (This I don't understand; these two teams are division rivals and had at least four more series to come; it seems like it should have been possible to swap out a future series at St. Pete rather than have the Orioles totally lose the home dates. But I'm no expert.)
It is not unprecedented for sports to be disrupted by civil unrest (the term used for events in Baltimore by Orioles announcer Gary Thorne, who did not use the term "riot"; his broadcast partner Jim Palmer floundered a bit, referring to "a riot or whatever"). Watts, the Rodney King unrest, the MLK assassination and other examples of civil unrest in the past have caused serious disruptions in baseball schedules. Baseball seems the most subject to these disruptions, possibly because more of these events seem to happen in the hot-weather months of baseball season, and maybe more because the everyday schedule of baseball is more susceptible to disruption (unless the unrest happens the morning of a football game, such a once-a-week event may be less likely to be affected and have more opportunity for the situation to be calmed by game day, for example). The NBA has known some disruptions in the past, however.
As for today's game, though there were no spectators admitted, the game was in fact televised. (I didn't watch it live, but I -- as an MLB.TV subscriber -- am able to watch it after the fact.) It was by all evidences a strange experience. The broadcasters were doing their usual professional work, but on occasion were clearly distracted by the circumstances. A Chris Davis home run in the first inning was met not by the cheers of a home crowd, but by the surprisingly noisy clattering of the home run ball in the right field seats. A clutch of spectators gathered to follow the game at one of the stadium's (closed and locked) gates, occasionally being shown on camera; exactly how much of the game they could actually see is questionable.
Nobody's idea of an ideal situation, to be sure.
But then, what would have been the better answer?
Adam Jones, the Orioles' center fielder and acknowledged "face of the franchise," spoke to the media before the game. Unlike a lot of athletes (or fans, for that matter) Jones seemed to get that a game in such a situation has only limited "healing" powers. "This game needs to be played," Jones said, "but [Baltimore] needs to heal first." Jones's background, growing up in a troubled part of San Diego, seems to have influenced his view of the events around him, even as he performed the publicly-mandated straddle of condemning the violence while understanding the conditions that provoked it; Jones knows those conditions better than most.
This is a place where baseball (believe it or not, given my sporting predilections) actually falls well short of its professional competitors. Football, for all its depredations (and I have chronicled them obsessively here), still has a reach among poor youth (an opportunity to get out of the ghetto/sticks/sugar cane fields and into college if nothing else). Basketball has an extremely prolific tradition of providing a way out for inner-city youth, even if that reputation may slightly exceed the reality. Baseball, on the other hand, has on the youth level increasingly become the province of pricey travel teams and programs that are a stretch for middle-class kids to afford, much less the poor of either urban or rural residence. Jones is an exception, increasingly, at least among US-born players (those who hail from Caribbean or South American countries are a quite different case).
Back to the game at hand; was it possible to play a game today (with the curfew in place, a game tonight was out of the question) and trust that it could be carried off safely with crowd in place?
I don't know. I have my doubts. The dynamics of a situation boiling with mistrust simply would not have given me any confidence about a game going forward without incident.
On the other hand, it's not hard to find a TV carrying the game. And I wouldn't be surprised if there were folks in the city starving for exactly that kind of distraction or relief for a few hours amidst the cleanup.
I have no answers. Nothing is ideal, nothing is going to turn out the way anybody would want.
For what it's worth, the Orioles won 8-2.
(p.s. one bit of humor; at one point the announcers decided to announce the very silent game in the manner of golf announcers, with the appropriate "golf whisper" voice.)