Those of us who love it know there’s a special romanticism about baseball. It’s almost as though nostalgia is coded into the sport’s DNA, flowing through and surrounding alternating sequences of OBP and ERA. It can be intimate even in a billion-dollar stadium and can feel like home even when you’re half a world away. “The one constant through all the years,” as Phil Alden Robinson wrote for James Earl Jones’s Terrance Mann in Field of Dreams, “has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again.