This past weekend, America was captivated by two fallen giants. At Churchill Downs in Louisville, Ky., America lent one eye to Street Sense's victory in the 133rd annual Kentucky Derby. Later that same night, America lent its other eye to Floyd Mayweather and Oscar De La Hoya, as they battled each other for 12 rounds at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas.
Today, boxing and horse racing only captivate the masses with the occasional event that doubles for a great betting opportunity. Of course, this wasn't always the case. Around the time of Seabiscuit and Jim Braddock, these sports formed two-thirds of America's sports triangle.
But where two have fallen, one remains. Baseball continues to be America's national pastime, but is it still America's game?
While boxing and horse racing have left a void, other sports have joined baseball on the national scene. Joined, but not supplanted.
Consider major sports in this country. Hockey may enjoy supreme popularity with our northern neighbors, but let's not kid ourselves here. Tennis and golf, they just don't stack up on the national scene. Auto racing? Maybe in North Carolina. Basketball is a great sport, but the Association is currently too troubled to best baseball.
We can then agree that baseball only has one more sport to best to retain its glory, but what a formidable foe the said sport is. The NFL has turned into such a powerhouse that one could actually make a fairly solid case for football having passed baseball as America's game. But much like Mayweather-De La Hoya, there won't be a KO in this dispute -- this fight goes the distance.
By a few lengths, I'll take baseball. No disrespect to the NFL, but I can't separate national pastime from national game. I understand that they're different concepts, but the history of baseball is a vital part of what makes the sport as great as it is.
A confession -- I missed seeing the Derby live, and I'm actually quite the Derby fan. But I missed it for good reason; I was glued to Chien-Ming Wang's near-perfect bid. Every time you watch a baseball game, you have a chance to witness history, and I would know. I was at David Wells's perfect game in 1998, and that's something I could never forget.
Football doesn't offer nearly the same experience. Sure, every football contest is exciting in its own right, but I'd suspect most football fans could go to a game where someone broke the single-game record for receptions and not even be fazed by it.
With every scrutinized, criticized, even vilified Barry Bonds at-bat, we know this isn't the case in baseball. Hate him or love him, you'll remember when he passes 755. You remember when you see someone hit for the cycle. You remember when you see someone hit four home runs. You remember no-hitters and 20-strikeout games. You remember when Cal took his victory lap in Baltimore for 2,131.
Ask a fan of both the Red Sox and Patriots which they'd take, the lone World Series or the three Super Bowls. Do I even have to tell you what they'd pick?
As for this writer, I'll always remember being a seven-year old on his way home from seeing "Rookie of the Year," hoping to break his shoulder so he could throw over 100 mph once the tendons fused together. If Ken Burns puts together a 20-hour documentary on football, maybe I'll reconsider. Until then, baseball will continue to be king in this country.
