(City Journal) -- According to RealClearPolitics, 63 percent of Americans think the country is on the wrong track. In New York City, people are getting slashed in the face by strangers. In Los Angeles this weekend, activists will protest the racial makeup of the nominees at the Academy Awards. Across the country, friendships are being ruined by poisonous debates over transgender bathrooms, the Flint water crisis, the Supreme Court nominee, and the latest explosive pronouncements of a slightly orange businessman from New York. Both hemispheres of our political brain are inflamed by the unhinged passions of the presidential race.
What could save us from our slow-motion nervous breakdown? Why, baseball of course. Whether it’s an election year, a leap year, or the year the American experiment with democracy finally crashes, spring training always arrives right on time.
Some say baseball is no longer our national pastime. The games are too slow. The season is too long. The whole thing is too boring—just a bunch of overpaid bums on steroids. We’re football people now. We want to see concussions, not curveballs. We want to hear the breaking of bones, not bats. Even boxing isn’t exciting enough to hold our attention anymore. We want mixed martial arts. We want blood.
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