On Dots, Baseball and the Depravity of my Mind

CONFESSION TIME: I spend a lot of time watching baseball games on the internet. Now I know what you may be thinking, “Why does this warrant a confession, Tom? I watch stuff on the internet all the time. In fact, I just watched an episode of Parks and Rec on Hulu. Boy, that Leslie Knope sure is hilarious!”

The thing is, friend, that I don’t watch actual games on the internet. I watch a two dimensional Java application that updates the game action through use of various colored dots. I do this because A) I’m a really exciting person, and B) I have fantasy baseball players to keep track of, and most of Jaime Garcia’s starts are not nationally televised affairs.

Here’s a picture of what I’m dealing with, just to give you a better idea:

So if the pitcher throws a strike, one of those little red dots appears, and if he throws a ball, a little green dot pops up, and if the batter makes contact with the ball, a little blue dot pops up and then you are told via textual updates what the outcome of said contact was (groundout, flyout, single etc.). Cute, isn’t it?

Actually, it’s not cute at all, because those little dots are going to fucking drive me insane. I’ve come to realize that the dots are not here to pass along information to me about the game, they are here to mock me and my inability to not obsess over the outcomes of ultimately meaningless baseball games.

Watching a live baseball game (either in person or on TV) comes with a certain kind of rhythm that prevents you from having to think too much. The pitcher throws the ball, the batter steps out of the box to fidget with his testicles, the ball is returned to the pitcher, the pitcher wipes some sweat from his brow, resets and throws again. That’s basically 90% of the action during a game, and it’s really quite comforting in its monotony.

The Dots (I capitalize here, so as to fully portray their menace), on the other hand, take everything that is comforting about this monotony and replaces it with anxiety and self-loathing.

There is no rhythm or flow associated with the cold, faceless dots. You simply stare at the screen until a dot appears (Red dot! Strike, woohoo!), and then you wait…and you wait…and you wait…until eventually another dot appears (Blue dot! Ball, fuck me!). The entire time you are waiting for the next dot to appear, your mind is racing and slipping deeper and deeper into madness, because there is no brow wiping or nut adjusting to comfort you, there is only the rattling of your own brain.

An example:

“Okay, 1-2 count, gotta strike him out here. Throw the slider in the dirt, Jaime. C’mon throw it. Jesus Christ where is the next dot? Why is this taking so long? Did something happen to him? Oh God what if he hurt his elbow on the last pitch and there are taking him out of the game and that’s why this is taking so long? SERIOUSLY, WHERE IS THE NEXT DOT?!”

Blue dot—Homerun.

“GAHHHHH!”

None of this has been exaggerated. It is pathetic and disgusting and I do it every day.

That's right, it's always a party

at Tom's apartment!

And I haven’t even mentioned the comments section at the bottom of the page, which usually consists of people with screen names like GOSAWX691!!1 typing things like, “Phil Hughes throws like a FAIRY!” And yet sometimes I find myself actually reading through some of these comments, as there often people out there who are bigger losers than me who like to watch the game on TV and on the computer at the same time; and these cretins will often alert you when something big happens long before The Dots have time to update.

The worst part of all of this is that while you are sitting there watching this bullshit, you are perfectly aware of how ridiculous and inane the whole thing is.

Another example:

“God, I can’t believe that I’m sitting here watching baseball on a fucking computer screen. It’s 70 degrees outside right now. What the hell am I doing with myself? This isn’t healthy; I really need to re-evaluate my--Red dot! Yes!”

It makes you feel like a heroin addict who knows that he’s destroying his life, and yet he just can’t stop chasing that dragon. Only in this case, I just can’t stop chasing that red dot.

The Dots aren’t digital representations of simple information. No, they are in fact mirrors of a sort, mirrors that reveal to all those who look into them the true nature of the human mind. A mind that at its core is obsessive, neurotic and ultimately masochistic.

So, if you plan on watching a baseball game on the internet, be careful. You might not like what you see.

Feel free to contact the author of this post at leyt345 at gmail dot com.