Baseball is supposed to be America’s pastime. A timeless–quite literally–game that sees no need to keep track of time at all. At least it used to be. Of late, fans increasingly seem to not have time for baseball. In spite of astoundingly lucrative team deals with television networks, the seven least watched World Series on record have come in the last eight years. Even as teams build new stadiums and league parity has thrust fresh faces into playoff contention, ball clubs are struggling to sell tickets; and we see more and more pictures of disturbingly empty stadiums.
Apparently, the trend isn’t confined to baseball within the U.S. The Hanwha Eagles, the last place team in Korean Professional Baseball, recently installed Fanbots to fill vacant seats. Entire rows of uniform-clad robots are now integrated into the stadium among non-droid fans, and cheer along with the crowd. The organization has touted the Fanbots as a revolutionary way to give fans unable to attend the game an interactive gameday experience. Eagles supporters can now relay comments posted from a mobile device to electronic signs held by an individual Fanbot in the stands, or paste a picture of their face atop the metal shoulders of one.
However, this approach skirts around the real issue at hand.
Even as baseball, both at home and abroad, innovates in the 21st century with expanded replay, attention to game speed, and marketing towards a younger demographic through social media, there is a limit to the utility of technology. Robots cannot replicate or replace the classic ballpark experience, even as teams labor to consistently fill seats and make the game more accessible to the average person. They can’t give you the true green of the grass, the omnipresent aroma of hot dogs and peanuts, or the atmosphere of a community coming together and pulling for a win. They certainly can’t give you the euphoria of slowing the world down for nine innings in the midst of the dog days of summer, letting you escape into a game that fondly reminds so many of childhood. No, baseball must find a way to bring real fans back through the turnstiles.
It is no groundbreaking statement to say that baseball is losing popularity compared to the other major sports in America. Its stars are big, but they do not approach the order of a LeBron James or Tom Brady, or even that of the biggest names coming out of college, like a Johnny Manziel. In fact, just by watching a segment of SportsCenter you’ll notice that preseason football garners more hype and attention than the September playoff push.
Not that too many people seem to care, but this year in MLB has been an exciting one. It marks the departure of Derek Jeter, as the Captain embarks on his farewell tour around the country and forces baseball’s most successful franchise into unchartered, Jeter-less waters without their shortstop of twenty years.
Meanwhile, a changing of the guard is occurring for the face of baseball. Youth reigns supreme with an influx of young talent and the dominance of relatively new stars, like Mike Trout and 2013 NL MVP Andrew McCutchen. Giancarlo Stanton (on the disabled list after this) is emerging as possibly the best hitter in baseball, Clayton Kershaw is a once-in-a-generation arm on the mound, and more exciting than any of them might be Jose Altuve, the 5’5” dynamo anchoring second base in Houston, who leads all of baseball in hits and the American League in steals. Cellar-dwelling Baltimore holds the top spot in the AL East by a commanding twelve games, while the Angels, who haven’t been to the playoffs since 2009, claim the handle of “Best Team in Baseball”, with a 96-61 record going into their final five games. Dependable losers Oakland, Kansas City, Seattle, and Cleveland jockey for the two American League wild card spots, vying for a chance to play into October, while other small market teams like the NL’s Pittsburgh Pirates fancy themselves among the 14 out of 30 teams within five games of a postseason slot in the concluding week of the regular season.
Yet, 16 out of 30 teams, over half, play their home games at an average stadium capacity under 70%, and it’s not just because they’re losing; five of them are over .500. Two would make the playoffs if they started today. It’s not because of steroids. That era seems to have come and gone, or is at the very least on its way out the door. And it’s certainly not because baseball is a boring game. This past summer, Little League highlights coming out of Williamsport, Pennsylvania captivated the nation; and proved on primetime networks that the game is not dying or fizzling out, but that it has a lively fan base ready and willing to believe in the magic that can happen, if only for a fleeting second, between two chalk lines.
Hanwha is on the right track because it is looking for solutions to the right questions, but the problem of declining interest still lingers for the world of pro baseball. We’ll see if Fanbots make the jump overseas, or if a new commissioner can sufficiently tackle the sport’s biggest issue moving forward.
Nevertheless, October is coming, and legions of fans will continue to cheer, as they have done for years.