There are four major American sports: football, basketball, baseball and hockey. Of those four, three are widely played at colleges across the country: football, basketball and baseball. Of those three, there are two that are widely televised and celebrated: football and basketball.

Now, I’d mourn the unpopularity of college hockey, but let’s face it, hockey is Canada’s national pastime, not ours.

Baseball is our national pastime. It’s America’s game. It’s Sandy Koufax, Bob Feller and Dave Winfield.

But none of those guys played college ball.

The fact is, as much as America loves baseball, we don’t love college baseball. The two levels of the sport have never really meshed well. Neither the country at large nor we here at Mizzou take college baseball seriously.

One of the major reasons for this, I think, is the Minor Leagues.

The Minor Leagues can be one of two things for aspiring baseball players. It can be an incubator of sorts, a place where players go to hone their skills before breaking onto the game’s biggest stage.

But it can also be purgatory.

Here are the three scariest words in baseball: _career minor leaguer._

Guys work their whole lives to make it to the big leagues, and if they don’t make it, they’re reminded of it every day. Because when you fall short of a major league career, you don’t just stop playing baseball. No, you have to suit up everyday as a member of the Akron RubberDucks or the El Paso Chihuahuas.

Or the Montgomery _Biscuits_. No grown man who has dedicated his life to something wants to have the word “Biscuit” emblazoned on the shirt he wears five days a week.

While ridiculous names are certainly an embarrassing feature of the minor leagues, they aren’t what has killed collegiate baseball. What’s killed it is that the minor leagues have become a substitute for college in many young players’ eyes, and a practical one at that.

In baseball recruiting, players are eligible to sign with a major league club after their senior year of high school. So the decision becomes: Earn money now in the minor leagues or receive a traditional education while playing at a four-year university.

Let’s say you’re Brady Aiken or Tyler Kolek. Both highly touted high school pitching prospects, Aiken and Kolek were drafted No. 1 and 2 overall, respectively, in the 2014 MLB Draft. Both were offered contracts worth millions of dollars, Aiken from the Houston Astros and Kolek from the Miami Marlins. Both are 18.

What would you do?

Would you sign the contract and forgo a full formal education?

Or would you go to school and risk suffering a debilitating injury before having earned a penny?

The Aikens among you will choose to go to college, while the Koleks will sign the contract and ship out to minor league camp. But what those two young men decided to do is ultimately unimportant. What’s important is that college is not the sole breeding ground for professional talent in baseball, like it is in college football and basketball.

If the game’s future stars aren’t on display, why watch college baseball?

For fans of Missouri baseball, our players’ context in the world of professional baseball simply shouldn’t matter. What should matter is that there is a team of 36 guys who have chosen to come here and play for us.

Our team is giving us plenty of reasons to care, too.

Bryce Montes De Oca is a 6-foot-8-inch, 265-pound freshman pitcher who has consistently clocked in the mid-90s with his fastball. He was drafted in the 14th round by the Chicago White Sox, but decided to come play for us. Montes De Oca is the third-highest ranked prospect to enter Division I this season.

Junior Matt Feldt, who transferred to Mizzou from Jefferson College, shows a lot of promise as a run producer. Feldt led the Vikings to a 21-13 record last year, hitting .440 with a .548 on-base percentage and 12 RBIs. If he can bring those numbers to Mizzou, he should be able to provide a spark for a Tiger team that had trouble scoring runs last year.

So come — watch Montes De Oca fire fastballs past helpless hitters and Feldt lace line drives up the middle.

Take in a ball game at Taylor Stadium this year. You won’t regret it.