Limbo is a state of suspended animation; you’re neither here nor there. And that’s what Chicago’s White Sox have been in all week, waiting to see whom they will play in the World Series (a truly misnomered championship, but that’s another essay!)
Last night they, and their hoards of fans, learned that the Houston Astros will be the White Sox opponents. But we’re still in limbo; and I suspect it has to do with prime time television. The first game of the 2005 World Series isn’t scheduled until Saturday night.
Forget that the teams’ pitchers might go cold with inactivity; forget that years ago baseball used to be over long before now; forget that weather is a spoiler. At this point, it’s all about how many people tune in to the appropriate channel, how many advertisers a network can line up, and how much revenue can be produced. It really doesn’t have much to do with baseball.
That’s too bad.
I recently wrote about Mr. Orange Arms, who is a shadow player in college football. Whenever he comes on the field at a game, play stops so that the networks that are televising the particular game can get their commercials in. I alluded then that teams have to wait, pace their energy, and perhaps stop in the middle of a play to accommodate commercials.
The baseball limbo seems to be the same kind of thing. Which leads me to think that the good old days, when you listened to radio to get your thrill and the play continued even if there had to be a break, really were good. Baseball and college football were played in real time, rather than in the artificial construct of prime time TV. There was no limbo then.
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