They Came to Watch Baseball: What They Got Instead Is Worth Talking About.

Do you remember watching television with your parents or grandparents when a commercial came on that suddenly made everyone uncomfortable. And everyone hoped the commercial would end before the youngest person in the room asked a question or your mother passed out from embarrassment. I suspect many of us have such a memory.  I certainly do.  Actually, I have a lot of them. 

So what made those moments uncomfortable? Usually, it was some boundary had been crossed: a boundary of good taste, modesty, or what was (assumed) appropriate for people of different ages and levels of maturity watching together. We thought there were certain understandings about such things. Until, apparently, there weren’t.

Earlier this week, I read about a controversy over advertisements appearing during baseball’s postseason playoffs. One features actress Sydney Sweeney wearing revealing underwear while promoting the sports betting platform Novig. Another features actress Megan Fox in a red bodysuit promoting prescription treatment for erectile dysfunction. These are commercials airing during games that parents and grandparents often  watch with children, not after hours shows that explicitly warn that the content deals with adult themes.  

Taylor Murphy, the son of longtime Atlanta Braves star and two-time National League Most Valuable Player Dale Murphy, publicly objected after watching the Baseball playoffs with his children. His request to Major League Baseball was straightforward: “Just show baseball in a way I can leave on in my house.” His father publicly supported his objection. Dodgers outfielder Alex Call, himself a father, also spoke out, asking why watching baseball with his son should mean risking the sudden appearance of sexually suggestive advertisements. These families were asking for something reasonable: the ability to enjoy America’s pastime with their children without having to stand guard over the remote control.

I can relate. I enjoy watching football with my six- and seven-year-old granddaughters. It is hard enough to explain to them the difference between a running back and a fullback. But that is a conversation worth having with my granddaughters during a football game. Explaining erectile dysfunction is not. And I should not have to explain it!

There is nothing shameful about a medical condition or seeking treatment. But we can distinguish between something appropriate for adults and something appropriate for a grandfather watching football with young children. Context matters. Age matters. The audience matters. Or at least they should.

This week’s Torah portion contains an unsettling story about exposure and the responsibility to respond appropriately.

After the flood, Noah plants a vineyard, drinks its wine, becomes intoxicated, and lies uncovered inside his tent. His son Ham sees his father’s nakedness and tells his brothers outside.

Shem and Japheth respond differently. They take a garment, place it across their shoulders, walk backward into the tent, and cover their father. The Torah emphasizes that their faces are turned away. They do not look upon his nakedness.

The story leaves much unexplained. Rabbinic commentators suggest that something far more serious may have occurred. But we need not resolve every ambiguity to recognize what the Torah explicitly describes: two brothers making a deliberate effort to preserve their father’s dignity. They could have looked. They chose not to. They could have left him exposed. They chose to cover him. They understood that another person’s exposure creates a responsibility.

Of course, Noah’s involuntary exposure is different from an advertisement deliberately designed to attract attention. But the story invites us to consider a larger question: What do we choose to display, how do we respond to what we see, and what do we owe one another in dignity and restraint?

Judaism has a word that belongs in this conversation: tzniut, modesty. Too often, we reduce modesty to arguments about women’s clothing. But an ethic of modesty makes demands upon everyone. It concerns how we present ourselves, how we look at others, how we speak about them, and whether we recognize that some things deserve privacy.

It asks us to exercise judgment even when exposure might attract attention, produce a laugh, or sell a product.

Our commercial culture offers a different lesson. Attention is valuable. Sexual imagery attracts attention. Therefore, put it on the screen.

But someone should ask: Who is watching? What kind of setting are we creating? What responsibility do we have toward these families? Parents should be able to ask those questions without being dismissed as hopelessly old-fashioned.

Freedom gives adults considerable latitude in what they watch and purchase. It also gives us the opportunity to exercise restraint for someone else’s sake. A shared space requires consideration for the people sharing it.

I want my granddaughters to enjoy football with their grandfather. I want to explain touchdowns, penalties, and why their grandfather occasionally offers coaching advice loudly to a television that cannot hear him. But even more importantly, as they continue to grow, I want them to learn that adulthood carries responsibilities: to recognize boundaries, to respect an audience, and to understand that other people’s comfort and dignity deserve consideration.

After the flood, humanity had to build a world again. That required more than planting vineyards and constructing homes. It required rebuilding the habits and obligations that make life together possible.

Shem and Japheth understood something essential to that task. They brought a garment. They turned their faces. They accepted a responsibility to protect another person’s dignity.

We need that same willingness to exercise restraint for someone else’s sake. Advertisers need it. Broadcasters need it. And so do the rest of us.

I want my granddaughters to learn the rules of football. But I also want them to grow up in a world where adults understand that they, too, have rules to follow, especially in the presence of children, and where the opportunity to attract attention comes with an obligation to exercise judgment.  The Torah takes care to tell us that Shem and Japheth covered their father. In a culture determined to put everything on display, we would do well to ask what we have a responsibility to protect.