Man has to create karma, that's the way it is / Man has to keep going way beyond his will / Man has to keep on being 'cause there's nothing else / A man just always has to go for himself"
-Van Morrison, Man Has To Struggle
Young, liberal, educated people should not use cliches, my young, liberal, and educated brain tells me. We should not think in cliches. And we certainly should not see the world operating in cliches. But despite all that, I can say with certainty the "baseball as a metaphor for life" is a shadowy figure stalking me in a dark alley.
It's the eve of the NLDS between the Oakland A's and the Detroit Tigers. And we once again have the familiar narrative of a team on a shoestring (by Major Leagues standards) budget going up against a Goliath. Even if, they're really not the underdog, having secured home-field advantage. Even if, they've proven every year that when an economy-class player comes to Oakland, magic happens. But they're still perpetual underdogs.
The truth is, most of us are perpetual underdogs. The A's are perpetual underdogs; on paper, going into any season or playoff matchup, they will not look as good. We have to prove ourselves at every opportunity. Because of their lack of star power and admittedly decrepit stadium, the A's have to demonstrate, every time they're in the spotlight, that they deserve to be there. You have to exploit what's not being exploited. We've all seen or at least heard passing mention of Moneyball, so we know that the A's have been forced, out of necessity, to find gold where everyone else sees garbage. We're all trying to assert who we are, and we're more like the Oakland A's than most of us realize.
Back in my former life as a runner, I ran for a mid-major level school in the NCAA. Our coach would tell us that as an athlete for a team in our position, you had to make the uniform happen every time you put one on. There was no flashy University of Oregon O on the front, no BCS Conference logo anywhere. There was no cache that came just from putting on the uniform. You had to make it with your performance. You have to, no, you get to, make make the identity that comes with the uniform, each time. And every time, you had to, no, again, you get to, create that identity from scratch.
Most people know this, though not necessarily in a sporting context. You're doing this every time you represent where you're from and who you are. I don't mean that in a hip-hop REPRESENT kind of way, although that is an excellent example. Chances are, you're from a place that's second to somewhere else. For Oakland and the rest of the East Bay, that place is right across the water.
This cultural monolith both absorbs and overshadows the other cities in the Bay Area. There's nearly 6.5 million of us living outside of "The City." Still, many people place their identity in San Francisco because it sparkles more, the name carries more weight. There's Hunter S. Thompson riding a cable car while eating the world's most authentic tacos from the Mission. People are a lot less willing identify as being from places such as Oakland, San Jose, or Fremont, not because there's anything intrinsically wrong with those cities, but because San Francisco is an identity magnet. It's a place people want to be from because it makes them interesting without actually having to be interesting.
(Oh look, it's a Coastal Californian bitching about how where he's from doesn't get enough respect. Cry me fucking river!)
In the East Bay, we have that mid-major situation going on. We have to make an identity for ourselves with every action. And the A's, in a lot of ways, are the mid-major team of the Major Leagues. They will be underrated. They will receive proportionally lacking coverage for their successes. You could say putting on the green and gold jersey doesn't carry as much respect nationally as some other jerseys. That is, until you start winning.
The A's aren't just the area's "other" team, like the Angels, Mets, or White Sox; they're the team from the area's "other city." People are not only swayed by Giant's nice new stadium where they can watch players hit baseballs into the ocean, but because it's San Francisco.
They'll be going up against a team whose star makes more than their entire payroll, but that's nothing new for the A's. The identity, carved out by years of performance and then brought to the nation's conciseness by Moneyball is that they will hold their own against, and win, in these situations. But that identity only gets reaffirmed upon performance. There's no magic that comes with putting on the uniform and stepping out into the ballpark. It's an identity based on showing up when no one thinks you will. A scrappy underdog can only be one by performing and an undervalued player can only show he's undervalued by defying expectations.
I'm not going to go so far as to say the A's are America's Team, or the People's Team. But they represent a predicament that most of are caught in. You have to work every day to make and maintain your identity. Nobody is going to hand you a positive version of who you are. That is made by your actions.
Every day you put on the uniform that is your skin. What are you going make of it? What will you have it represent? People might write you off as a bum or a thug or a loser, they might write you off because of your skin color, how you dress, how you talk, where you're from, and what you don't have. No matter what, or who you are, you're probably an undervalued player in life. You might be playing in the shadow of a mythical city, and you will be struggling to define yourself. It's a struggle that will never end. But every time you show up, and you make it happen, your task for the day will be accomplished.
