The Baseball Project: Frozen Ropes & Dying Quails

It’s a well-known fact that there has never been a bad song recorded about baseball. Not one. I’m even willing to include John Fogerty’s synth-clapping “Centerfield” (ed. brave) and every last one of those jazz songs about Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle that came out when my dad was a kid. Whatever the case, something about baseball has historically lent the sport the uncanny ability to wink at itself. Go back and listen to those old songs, if you can . . .

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