You'll never walk alone.

I like a spectacle, so any large gathering of people can pique my interest, regardless of whether I intend to share in the emotion of the experience. Whether it's airports, concerts, sporting events, political rallies, or the end of the school day, I'm always keen to be on hand to watch.

This last week was special because I was witness to two spectacles.

Wednesday morning, I got up early (3:30 AM) to watch election results come in with a gathering of expatriates. The event was interesting, and I'm sure that Obama's election is important... I'm just not sure if it is for me. There were tears of joy, shouting, and cheering when Obama was declared the winner. My first thought was:

"It's 5:30 AM, and we've only been here for an hour. How can the show be over already?"

The memories of two successive elections, left undecided after a night of tallying results, left me feeling that Obama's landslide victory had robbed me of my spectacle (for which I had payed 5 TLY).

Friday, I made up for it by going to a Beşiktaş match.

They say that there are three types of foreigners in Istanbul, and you can distinguish them by the team they support:

Fenerbahçe fans are 'fresh off the boat', and taken by the widespread popularity of the Blue and Yellow. They don't know Turkish, and certainly don't know Turkey, so they can hardly be blamed. These are people who buy Yankees hats when they visit New York City, fair weather fans.

Expatriate Galatasaray supporter have been in Turkey long enough to meet some actual Turks, and at least make their acquaintance. Self-identifying "liberals" (according to the American definition), this group will take up the Red and Yellow mantle for the experience of "Turkish" football, and upon their return to Starbucks, email friends and family from their MacBook Pro and blog about their experience at "the crossroads of civilization".

Foreigners in Turkey have to find Beşiktaş. The informed ex-pat, one who speaks Turkish and knows about Turkey and Turkish history, who approaches the world with a sense of ideology, and who knows that the fan base is more important than the team, will sift through the mosaic of Turkish football and come realize it's fundamental duality, embodied by the Black and White.

In my first year here, Beşiktaş was merely the home team. The stadium was close, and it made sense to support them... I could hear the games from our apartment. These days, home games are part of the rhythm of living in Istanbul. It isn't about about geography anymore, nor the team, and much less football, instead it's part ideology part song. If I'd been in Spain in the 1940s, I would have been a leftist for no other reason than the people. Beşiktaş offers me that, so I'll continue to walk with them.

Friday afternoons, school lets out early, so myself and two colleagues were in Beşiktaş and sipping rakı by 4:15. We snacked on appetizers, drank, talked about past matches, and were joined later by one colleague's mother and two English teachers. Around 6, things began getting rowdy...

It started with songs. These were hymns, really, as the tunes were often the same while the words changed. Our fan base is creative, and the song list is endless. For over an hour we sang and cheered, drinking and eating, until at 7:30 we began the march to the stadium.

I've been in Kadıköy during a Fenerbahçe match, and one could always distinguish when the goals occurred by the peak in sound. From outside Inönü Stadium, it sounded like a riot was happening around some corner. It was sheer volume.

Inside, the sound was the constant white noise of a cheering croud. Occasionally, coordinated in song, but never less than the volume of a baseball game when a run is batted-in: a crush of sound. The passion of Beşiktaş has no analogy, and I now remember ball games as study destinations, like libraries or well-lit corners.

The match took ninety minutes, but for my effort I got a lasting, six-hour dose of pure spectacle. It should tide me over to the next game.

I obviously don't understand Turkish politics...

Last week, there was a historic vote by the Turkish High Court, to decide a pending case against the ruling AK Party. The decision was, basically, a 'yea' or 'nay' vote to close down the party for being a threat to Turkey's secular constitution, or some such business. I could list the charges, but I don't want to bother. Sometimes, the absurd realities here are so numerous as to bore me.

For our purposes, the important details are, there are 11 judges, one abstained, four voted 'nay', and six voted 'yea'.

So, the party was shut down...

But NO! Apparently, having the majority of votes doesn't matter, and the party was not actually closed.

The article was in Turkish, and surely, the word "unanimous" was buried somewhere there, in reference to the necessary number of votes to pass. Least wise, there was some kind of explanation and I missed it. I think I had half-finished the article, when I realized there wasn't a closure happening and started over from the beginning. This is the problem when one reads a newspaper in a foreign language: details find the massive gaps in one's fluency.

Imagine reading:

During the baseball game between the Cardinals and the Cubs, as W*@^@! caught a &%^$ !@#$ from %$!@, a @#$! @#$%& %$!@ crashed into &%^$ @#$! @#$%& &%^$ and injuring left &%^$, DeRosa. The game @#$%& %$!@, ending @^@! 4-3 %& &%^ sixth %%$#.

Which would translate as:

During the baseball game between the Cardinals and the Cubs, as Ward caught a fly ball from Pujols, a meteorite crashed into left field, leaving a massive crater and injuring left-fielder, Mark DeRosa. The game was called, ending with a score of 4-3 in the sixth inning.


Sadly, all I walk away with is the score...

Bezbol...

I haven't met anyone in Turkey, that is, any Turkish people in Turkey, who understand or have an appreciation for baseball. I, myself, was never a devout and loyal fan of the sport, so I'm not really one to talk, but it is exactly the talking that exposes how baseball is an integral part of American life.

I have a number of Turkish friends, and I often use English to communicate with them. As a result, one of my primary tasks has been explaining baseball references. Almost always, I'll use one without realizing, and the puzzled expression on a friends face will cue an elaborate definition. Kenneth G. Wilson explains the conundrum of an American English speaker thusly, in The Columbia Guide to Standard American English:

The vocabulary of baseball, probably more than that of any other sport, is as popular in figurative use throughout the society as is the argot of the theater and other entertainments or the cant of the underworld. To strike out, to be a bush leaguer [or just to be bush], to balk, to bat three hundred [or, hyperbolically, a thousand], to give [or] get an assist, to pinch hit, to score, to shut out, to begin a whole new ball game, or to be off base, to be in left field, or to be a screwball, to have somebody throw you a curve, and many, many more words and phrases have come into the general vocabulary from baseball’s slang and argot, to a point where many people use them who may not really be very sure about the nuances of the game itself. Indeed, many people who have never even seen a major or minor league or college game, even on television, use baseball terms, probably some without even being aware of the origins of the expressions they employ. Some of these baseball terms have become Informal or Semiformal and Conversational in the general vocabulary (to throw someone a curve, to drop the ball), others remain slang (to whiff, to throw a slurve), and a few indeed may have reached full Standard status (to make a hit, to swing and miss). Use only the language your audience will understand.

I really appreciate his last piece of advice, to use "only the language your audience will understand".

Of course, I appreciate it only to the extent that I think it's crap. As a person who derives pleasure from language, from the use of language separate from meaning, I'd really have to dumb things down while speaking to most people in Turkey... and I would probably be a much less happier person, as a result. Also, I see it as my important contribution, perhaps, my calling from God, to bolster an English-learners vocabulary with essential baseball references and other flowery slang. English is, after all, the international language.

I decided to make a list of all the slang terminology I use, that I know comes from baseball. It was longer than I thought it would be:

ball park
base, first/second/third/home
bush-league
double (see 'bases')
charley horse
cover your bases
home run
league, in/out
left field, in/out of
play ball
play hardball
pickle, in a
pinch hit
pitching vs. catching
rain check
single (see 'bases')
step up to the plate
strike out
switch hitter
same team
touch base
triple (see 'bases')

I'm not even certain if this is the full list. I decided that, rather than defining them all, it would be fun to leave a reader to determine if they themselves know the meanings (or, just look them up here).

I had a proud moment, some months ago, when one of my room mates explained his chance tryst with a woman who was 'out of his league', describing the experience with just two words:
'Home run'.