THE GRAHAM SLAM

When I was a kid, my parents took me on a road trip to College Station, Texas, to visit the campus of Texas A&M University. It was springtime and, as a baseball fan, we decided on a visit to Blue Bell Park for an Aggies game.

It was an experience I remember to this day. The evening was beautiful, the park was packed and the fans were friendly. But what stood out the most were the traditions. The students made a habit of guessing how many cars would be on the trains that ran just behind the rightfield wall, a quirky feature reminiscent of big-league parks in Houston and Seattle.

But the most fun was the relentless hazing of wild opposing pitchers. If the other team’s pitcher sent a batter to first with four straight balls, the heckling would begin. “Ball five! Ball five! Ball five!” the students would chant in unison, flashing five fingers with every line like some kind of hex.

If the pitcher was unfortunate enough to throw a first-pitch ball to the next hitter, the chanting continued. “Ball six! Ball six! Ball six!” the students would sing, now getting both hands and arms involved. The chant continued until the pitcher threw a strike or, perhaps more likely, allowed a hit. It was a savage and effective taunt, one that fazed many unprepared pitchers not used to that kind of fan participation.

After all, baseball is not a sport known for its rowdy crowds. (At least, not in America.) Major League Baseball fans can get loud, sometimes downright delirious, during big moments with high stakes. But there’s nothing particularly “quirky” about MLB fandom.

That’s what sets college baseball apart – the fun. The fans have more fun and, often, the players do, too. The “Ball five!” chant may be unique to Aggieland, but there are numerous college baseball fanbases with charming traditions of their own.

The Sooners, for instance, could make more money by installing outfield seating at L. Dale Mitchell Park. But that would eliminate the famous gamelong tailgate on the berm over the outfield walls.

The state of Mississippi has distinguished itself for college baseball fandom, with both Ole Miss and Mississippi State boasting some of the best teams, fans and traditions in the sport. (I once saw a study that surveyed every state on its favorite sport, and Mississippi was the only one that chose baseball over football and basketball.) Rebel fans, in particular, have a fun and memorable tradition of tossing their beers in the air after an Ole Miss home run, creating a “beer shower” behind the outfield walls that only adds to the awesomeness of a game-changing dinger.

College baseball takes the spotlight – kind of – every June during the College World Series, which is wrapping up this week in Omaha, Nebraska. But let’s face it – the sport plays a distant third fiddle behind college football and basketball, two of the most popular sports in America.

But why?

Well, there are plenty of reasons. Scholarships, for instance. Did you know that college baseball teams can only give out 11.7 scholarships per season? That’s right: eleven-point-seven. That’s compared to 85 full-ride scholarships for FBS football teams and 13 for basketball teams, which have much smaller rosters. There can be up to 35 baseball players on a college baseball roster, but the team has to divvy up those 11.7 scholarships between a maximum of 27 of those players.

Needless to say, it drives down the quality of competition when an athlete’s best and cheapest path to an education and a big-league opportunity lies elsewhere.

College baseball is also harmed by the structure of baseball itself. Baseball has a far more robust minor-league system than any other North American sport and, as a result, doesn’t rely on college ball to develop its players. Many great baseball players are drafted straight out of high school, and many choose to go straight to the minors rather than play in college without financial support.

It’s also true that a large and increasing number of major league stars are foreign-born, often from Latin America, and the best of those are signed while still teenagers, never thinking for a moment about playing college baseball in the States.

One final reason I’ll mention, though I could go on, is the fact that college baseball stars still have to earn their way through the minors after being drafted. It’s true that the best college baseball players often skate through the minor leagues much faster than their high school counterparts. But in football and basketball, the top draft picks are expected to play – heck, they’re expected to start – immediately.

It’s much easier for the casual fan to keep track of Kyler Murray on the Arizona Cardinals than it would have been on, say, the Midland Rockhounds. Murray was drafted by the Oakland A’s before he was drafted by Arizona, and could well have spent time playing on Oakland’s West Texas Double-A team. How many fans would follow him on that journey? More likely, they’d forget about him until he, eventually, popped up in the majors.

For all these reasons and more, college baseball is a tough sell to a national audience. Yet we see its potential so clearly every spring. The NCAA totally botched this year’s College World Series by kicking out North Carolina State after a handful of positive COVID-19 tests, including some among vaccinated players. It’s yet another instance of the NCAA getting in its own way.

But there’s no denying the charm and passion of the college game. For a variety of reasons, college baseball might always be a niche sport. But if the game someday were allowed to up its scholarship limits, expand its talent base and improve the accessibility of its former stars in the minor leagues, I think college baseball could become a springtime sporting hit and a cash cow for its best schools.

That would be great. Then again, the product is pretty darn great as it is.