‘A Spit in Time Saves Mine’

The Widow Laments Unhealthy Habit by Ball Players

By Judi Curry

I am a native Californian. More specifically, I am a native “Angelean” – born and raised in Los Angeles.  As long as I can remember – granted, that is a long, long time ago – I have always been a Los Angeles Dodger fan.  I remember in 1957, when the then “Brooklyn Dodgers” were allowed to move to Los Angeles, and the New York Giants were allowed to move to San Francisco how excited I was about the move.

As a native, I always went to the Los Angeles Rams football games; the Los Angeles Lakers basketball games. Even though I was living in San Diego when the Rams moved to St. Louis, I always rooted for them – unless they were playing the San Diego Chargers.  But this is not about the feeling of traitor-ship I felt when both football teams moved out of my city – and yes, I know the Rams are back – but….

I have never been a Padres fan.  I have attended games, but for some reason they never struck a supportive nerve with me.  I don’t know if it is the ugly brown uniform; the inability to win; the stadium, etc., I just don’t watch their games.  In fact, I had not watched a baseball game this season until the fifth game between the Dodgers and the Giants. Even that has a story behind it.

When I went to Berkeley in the early 60’s, I was a Giants fan.  When I lived in Maine in the late 1990’s I was a Red Sox fan. And then I moved back to San Francisco and again became a Giants fan.  So here I was – watching my long-term favorite play an exciting run-off game against my second favorite team.  Did I root for the Dodgers? Or did I root for the Giants?  Did it really matter? At least one of my teams was going to be in the playoffs.  So this isn’t really about the playoff game anyway.  No… it’s about something else.

I have a relatively new next door neighbor that I do not like.  I have only met him a few times, and the same thing happened each time I met him.

He is a current Navy Seal – no problem there – but he chews tobacco – and he spits it out while talking to me – and if the wind is just right – as it was the first time, and the second time, and the third and last time I spoke to him, I managed to get splattered with the residue coming from his mouth.

No apology was given; and he continued to spit while we were talking.

All of that was brought to mind as I watched the baseball game.  For the life of me I cannot see how anyone can accept the spitting that goes on in these professional baseball games.  Particularly with Covid so rampant throughout the world.

Do the players think that they are immune to the disease? Remember the old saying that “ . . . his shit don’t smell?”  Do they think that their spit doesn’t carry germs?

As exciting as the game was – at least the 9th inning – I was completely turned off by this archaic, nasty habit of these men that are earning millions of dollar a year.  The model they showing our young children is abominable.  After all, if it is okay for them to spit all over the field and near their fellow players, why can’t the 5 year old, or the 10 year old or the 20 year old do the same thing?  Where is the concern for their fellow citizen?  Why do they have to chew and spit; eat seeds and spit; or just plain spit anyway? Does that make them a greater man?

As much as I enjoyed the game, I probably will not watch any others. I found it too disheartening to watch with the little icon of COVID flying around the field.  We will never rid ourselves of this insidious disease until man grows up and starts thinking about others around him.  Unfortunately his shit does smell and his spit does carry germs.

It is truly possible to play the game without endangering those around themselves. Try it.