Don’t take me out to the ball game. Several trips this summer to ballparks have finally convinced me that I’d rather stay home and watch baseball—or any other professional sport—on the tube. The immediacy, intimacy and intense focus of televised coverage ruins you for the real thing. Seen from up in the peanut gallery, Roger Clemens looks totally hitable, basketball’s Charles Barkley looks like a lumbering clod and pro football looks like a flea circus. On television they all look like gods. On the other hand, maybe I just need better seats.