The meaning behind the Paul Simon lyric “the cross is in the ballpark” in ‘The Obvious Child’
It’s easy to assume that Paul Simon was inspired by the success of Graceland when he started working on The Rhythm of the Saints. The success of exploring a new musical culture had pushed him to another place on the map, equipped with a new mission to see what else he could uncover in the hidden depths of world music. It’s easy to assume that, of course, because it’s partially true, but what really landed Simon in Brazil was something else entirely: rhythm.
“The journey of the drum goes with the slave trade, from West Africa to Brazil, then up the Caribbean,” Eddie Palmieri had told Simon, leading into a Brazilian trip that searched for the philosophical pulsations of the percussion like a clarion call for musical excellence. Simon’s unrelenting quest for divine intervention came in the form of Grupo Cultural Olodum, a group whose Batuque drumming wasn’t just seemingly godlike and of its own world, but a setup that influenced the entire direction of The Rhythm of the Saints.
And this solemn affair began naturally with ‘The Obvious Child’. “One day we were driving through the old part of Salvador in Bahia when we heard this incredible drumming coming from Pelouinho Square,” Simon told Mojo in 2011, explaining how ‘The Obvious Child’ began with Olodum recording the backing track for the song in their “backyard”. The commanding hits you hear the moment you start up the track lead into something more feverishly rhythmic for Simon’s song about youthful longing.
On paper, all of the signs of this kind of ageing paranoia are there, compounded by Olodum’s unrelenting pulsing like the quickening hands of the clock of life: an ever-reminder of the numbers on days and the inescapable nature of something so natural yet so feared by all. Words like “Sonny wanders beyond his interior walls / Runs his hand through his thinning brown hair” may seem bleak because, well, they are. But as natural as Simon’s affinity for blending melancholy with poetic reflections is the song’s subtle notes of hope, all of which culminate in the line: “The cross is in the ballpark”.
Now, at a glance, that might seem like nothing more than a flippant remark, and at one point, Simon even implied it was only included because it felt “satisfyingly rhythmic” against the cadence of the song. However, elsewhere, he made it clear that he wasn’t just playing around with how certain words felt against the drums, and that his broader attitude towards not being young anymore felt a lot easier the moment he realised there is no challenge that can’t be overcome.
In other words, it felt like some kind of strangely enticing spiritual musing about learning acceptance through knowing your own strength. “‘The cross is in the ballpark’. The first thing I thought of was Billy Graham, or the Pope, or [an] evangelical gathering,” he told Time. “But I came to feel what that’s really about is the cross that we bear. The burdens that we carry are doable, they’re in the ballpark”.
Even though viewing ageing as something conquerable might seem as bizarre as calling someone Al when that’s not their name, the point is that certain things don’t bear thinking about, because, when all is said and done, the issue lands elsewhere in places that are manageable. Such as, discovering why ageing is feared from a psychological standpoint and building healthy responses around that, rather than falling deep into conspiracies about lifestyle changes that can make you appear younger.
As a result, ‘The Obvious Child’ doesn’t just highlight the rhythms of Brazilian culture, it exposes the rhythms of all of our insecurities, while telling us that it’s okay, and we don’t have to fear the things that make us feel small, because we already have the answer inside of us. That’s The Rhythm of the Saints.
