Chanting 'lock him up' to Trump at a World Series game is the most American thing ever — and I'm proud we did it

The president wants to change the narrative, but the booing was part of a rich tradition in baseball and it reflects the country's mood

America’s favorite pastime is baseball: that long, drawn-out game that requires patience, some wit, and a lot of attention to detail. In a competitive series, a game can last five or six hours. A fan must tough out the long and boring parts, waiting with bated breath for the action in between.

What comes part and parcel with baseball is the art of heckling. Baseball fans believe firmly in the American tradition of yelling. Boo your opponent, cheer your home team, embrace a group mentality — this is what it means to love the game. This, more importantly, is what it means to be an American.

Last night, President Trump attended Game 5 of the World Series — the first baseball game that he has attended since his swearing in as president of the United States — which was being played between the Houston Astros and the Washington Nationals. In so doing, Trump himself became a target of baseball’s notorious heckling. And that heckling was nothing short of patriotic.

Met with boos, and calls to “Lock Him Up,” Trump finally got a dose of the medicine he has been doling out to his rally-goers since 2015. “Lock Her Up” felt cringe-worthy and wrong when tossed at former Secretary Clinton, who was absolved of wrongdoing on several occasions, most notably by the FBI. But, as it relates to Trump, who has freely admitted to consorting with a foreign power to get dirt on his political opponent, “Lock Him Up” suddenly feels like an appropriate rally cry.

Baseball fans, who departed from their cheers and jeers at players last night to direct one at the president, were proving their diehard patriotism. They proved, too, that Americans have had enough of this criminal president.

Heckling, in baseball, enjoys a long tradition. In 2004, famed Red Sox pitcher Pedro Martinez, who once called the New York Yankees his “daddy,” was met with chants of “Who’s Your Daddy” at the American League Championship Series against that rival team. If that chant feels cheeky, know that baseball is about cheekiness and pushing boundaries. Baseball is about dedication and devotion and seeing your team through to the bitter end. That season, the Red Sox came back from 0-3 to win the series against the Yankees. That October, the Red Sox would go on to win their first World Series title since 1918. But the chant? That chant brought Yankees fans together, united them in a common goal. Winning was important, yes, but so was sticking together.

In the case of Trump vs. the Baseball Stadium, what we witnessed, too, was unity at work. Astros fans and Nationals fans rose to the occasion, refusing to normalize a president who has presided over an administration rife with corruption and bad behavior. There was no mistaking the mood in that stadium: The president was not a welcome guest. And that reflects the mood of the American people.

Regardless of what the president might allege, the pushback against him is not a witch-hunt. He is not being maligned for no good purpose. The declarations against him, shouted from the stands by baseball lovers — by Americans — indicate a tipping point, as our country moves farther away from accepting this new status quo.

The president does not represent the better angels of the American spirit. What better place to remind him of that one certain truth than amid the echoes and cacophony of the baseball stadium?

Like every other critique that he has faced in his nearly mature presidency, Trump will manipulate the truth of Game 5. I expect that he will convert obvious boos into enthusiastic yays, that he will attribute the chant of “Lock Him Up” to a few loudmouthed “Do Nothing Democrats” who happen to have voices that carry. But fans of America’s pastime, like me, know the truth — and that truth is that the president’s appearance at the World Series offended us, because he personifies everything that baseball is not: traitorous, lazy, un-American, intellectually disinterested, and mean-spirited.

The only reasonable gift to bestow upon an interloper — upon someone dedicated to America’s systematic dismantling — is the gift that proves our patriotism, and our refusal to accept the rewriting of our country’s narrative. The only appropriate thing to do is boo.