Baseball and The Spectacle of Duration

I can remember sitting in class as a 3rd grader at Lake Magdalene Elementary School.  As the class was surely learning something important such as their multiplication tables or cursive, I sat reading my Amazing But True Sports Stories book which promised "More than 80 Stories with Lots of Photos,"  a seemingly perfect concept for a simple-minded 8-year-old.

Out of the numerous tales that filled the book, there was one that always stood out to me and kept me re-reading it like an eager grad student. The story was of a 33 inning International League baseball game that took place between the Pawtucket Red Sox and the Rochester Red Wings.

The game included future baseball superstars Wade Boggs and Cal Ripken, Jr. and lasted an astonishing eight hours and 25 minutes (it was halted at 4:07 A.M. on April 18, 1981, and was finished on June 22). I can vividly remember envying those who were able to witness the extravaganza. I could not understand those that left or fell asleep in the stands. If I was there I would have cherished every second, every pitch, every nerve-racking inning of it, I thought to myself.

I offer this flashback because tonight, as I do most every week night, I flipped on television's baseball offerings at around 10 P.M. (EST) and skimmed the evening's Major League Baseball landscape. 

I turned on ESPN's broadcast of the San Francisco Giants and the St. Louis Cardinals.  As the game entered the 10th inning, I experienced a natural reaction that has entranced me for as long as I can remember, the mental captivation of extra-inning baseball.

Ever since I knew what baseball was, the possibilities of an extra inning game have fascinated me. A game entering the 10th inning can take on an endless amount of outcomes. 

The game could become an instant classic, a marathon, the baseball equivalence of cinema's Citizen Kane. It can also be taken away from you quickly, leaving another forgettable contest amongst the 162-game scuffle. 

To this day, I still feel a slight bit of disappointment when an extra inning game takes the latter course after loading my mind with thoughts of a Pawtucket/Rochester recreation. This case is the most typical, as was evident in my latest prospect tonight when Colby Rasmus belted a walk-off homer into the Busch Stadium night in just the 10th inning.

The dream does not just apply to baseball. No, over time the fascinating obsession has carried into college football, basketball, and playoff hockey. I often find myself never wanting games to the end.

I have often wondered why I have such interest in the art of a never-ending game.  Why will I sit up until 4 A.M. watching a west coast baseball marathon? Why have I sat and watched the entirety of a meaningless NCAA FBS game simply because it went into seven overtimes?

It is not because these games are better than a game that ends in regulation. There have likely been thousands of nine inning games better than the 33 inning contest that graced McCoy Stadium in Pawtucket.

No, I have found that it is because games that seem to last forever become more than a game, they become a spectacle. 

If there is one thing that can be said about the majority of sports fans it is that they absolutely live for a picturesque spectacle, a moment that becomes larger than life. You could take the two worst teams in the National Hockey League, place their contest in a football stadium for the "Winter Classic" and it will sell-out and be a top story every time.

The Los Angeles Coliseum drew 115,300 fans for a glorified spring training game.

Never underestimate the power of a spectacle.

I probably would not be extremely willing to watch a standard nine inning game between the Pittsburgh Pirates and Washington Nationals. Make the game a 30 inning masterpiece and I would likely watch every second and tell my future grandchildren about it.

The fascination will most likely never go away. For as long as I see baseball games go into extra innings, I will think of Wade Boggs going 4-for-12 or Dave Koza's walk-off single in the 33rd inning to give Pawtucket a hard earned victory.

I will think of a 33 inning classic that I never even saw but has stuck with me for years.

That is, unless somebody plays 34...