FOX's Show About MLB's First Woman Player Is Surprisingly Powerful

"I'm a ball player," Ginny Baker (Kylie Bunbury) repeatedly reminds us—and those around her—throughout FOX's new series Pitch. She has to say it over and over because the world looks at her and sees only a woman, not an athlete. Every time those words came out of Ginny's mouth, my own lips curved into a smile. I am one of a large number of women baseball fans; as many as 35 to 40 percent of Major League Baseball fans are also women. But we're used to being pandered to, discredited, and altogether ignored. So imagine my excitement—and reticence—upon hearing that one of FOX's new fall debuts was a fictional account of the first woman in the MLB.

To some, Pitch might seem far-fetched, which is probably why writers gave Ginny a "trick pitch" to explain how she competes with all these men. But those of us following the sport know that there's long been talk about women playing professional baseball—and that it's only a matter of time before it becomes a reality. Just this year, a professional team signed two women for the first time, and ESPN placed a female MLB analyst, Jessica Mendoza, in its Sunday Night Baseball booth.

It's in this context that Pitch made its debut three weeks ago. I didn't watch it when it aired since it coincided with the baseball playoffs (if FOX was hoping to draw in baseball fans, its timing certainly could've been better), but when I finally got a chance to tune in, I was hooked. There's no suspension of disbelief required, because FOX has gone to painstaking lengths to ensure accuracy in terms of the set and atmosphere.

The appearance of real-life baseball commentators Joe Buck and John Smoltz as TV broadcasters may not mean much to non-baseball fans, but it goes a long way toward adding authenticity to the show's baseball-centric scenes. (Now we can hate Joe Buck in real life and in fiction!) Instead of creating a fake team specifically for the show, Ginny's drafted by an actual MLB team—the San Diego Padres—and everything from their uniforms to their home stadium of Petco Park is as it is in real life.

The first episode sets up what it would take for a woman to make it as far as Ginny has in a sport dominated by men: She's tough as nails, doesn't take bullshit from any of her teammates, and has to work twice as hard as anyone else to prove that she belongs. It also sets her up as an outsider, since she's given what is essentially a closet to change in because there's no women's locker room at the park.

Throughout the first three episodes, Pitch does a great job of showing the conflicting stances that Ginny must navigate—she just wants to be "one of the guys," but she never will be, and the show's at its best when exploring this tension. In the pilot, Ginny must deal with the "ass slapping" that's so pervasive among male teammates. No matter how much Ginny wants to be like the rest of the clubhouse, she has a quick and angry reaction when the catcher and team captain, Mike Lawson (Mark-Paul Gosselaar), slaps her ass.

"You think that's funny?" she asks Lawson. "You think you're the first guy to slap my ass to get a laugh from your buddies?" In an attempt to assert his position as the captain of the team, he responds, "I slap asses. It's what I do. And as long as you're on this team, I'm going to slap yours." But later in the episode, when Ginny leaves the mound and her manager slaps her butt, Lawson leans over and says, "She doesn't like the ass-slapping." It's a small moment that shows that Ginny is earning the respect of her teammates—even if they're not ready to let her know that.

Ginny also struggles to reconcile the inner conflict that comes from not wanting to be tokenized while recognizing that what she's doing is significant—and it does matter, especially to young girls who want to follow in her footsteps. (One lovely detail is that Ginny only signs autographs for kids.) In the second episode, "The Interim," Ginny has to figure out how to cope with a sexist comment made by team manager Al Luongo (Dan Lauria). In an effort to fit in and show she's a team player, Ginny tries to brush off the comment and issue a statement in support of Al, but her agent Amelia (Ali Larter) wants her to use the opportunity to make a larger statement. We watch as Ginny's being pulled in two directions: the one where she just wants to play ball, and the reality that that isn't going to be possible.

"The Interim" provides a great example of the sexist microaggressions that women face every day from people in their inner circles, and it also touches on the difficulties women face when deciding whether or not to address sexism. Ultimately, she uses an appearance on Jimmy Kimmel Live! to both support her manager and condemn a sexual-assault case featured in the episode, saying all the things she needed to get off her chest and using the opportunity to speak for herself. It's awkward and inelegant—but that's what a 23-year-old woman thrust into the national spotlight would realistically come across as.

Like any show, Pitch is not perfect. Ginny's pitching motion is a little too deliberate; the characters' backstories are ushered in too quickly; it has yet to truly explore how Ginny's race influences her experiences in this world; and it occasionally falls into stereotypes of its genre. But there's something about a woman in a professional baseball uniform that will always have me cheering, and Ginny Baker gives me hope that maybe the world is ready to celebrate female athletes and the skills they bring to the game—even if it's only a fictional world for now.

Follow Britni de la Cretaz on Twitter.