I’m trying to explain the difference between sacred and profane time to my class on world religions, and baseball exemplifies the sacred variety. The experience of a baseball game offers a way of stepping outside time: At least for a while, no clock is ticking.
Now that the baseball season is upon us, and I’ve been listening to Cactus League games on the car radio as I drive around Los Angeles, I’m transported into a different feeling of time, a different experience of its rhythms. No ticking clock rules a traditional baseball game, allowing us to escape the tyranny of deadlines and the threat of finality.