Take Me Out To The Ballgame
Most don't get it. To be honest I don't expect them to. I understand that from the outside it seems slow, boring, and unentertaining. Hell, from the inside it can be that way sometimes too. But for someone who grew up on the game, a night at the ballpark is special.
It's a reminder of so many things. Driving somewhere on a summer afternoon listening to Tom Cheek call Blue Jay games. Playing catch and fielding grounders with Dad. Vague recollections of Exhibition Park and vivid memories of Skydome in Toronto. Endless pictures of a younger me in Jays clothing either playing myself or with my face pinned to the backstop watching the Jays at spring training. Evenings at the house park with the Poole's playing our own brand of baseball (you have to improvise with only 6 players). Nights with the family or sometimes just Dad at Nat Bailey watching the Canadians. Not to mention the endless stream of games I actually played in, practices and road trips to tournaments. I could go on forever.
So on Monday, the family made a trip down to Seattle to watch the Mariners play the Blue Jays. Just walking into the ballpark brought it all back. And walking down to the first row during warm up, all I wanted to do was hop on to the field and play a little catch or track down a fly ball from batting practice.
Needless to say it was a great night. I even reminded myself how to do #4 on the list of 75 things men should master, just like old times. And the Jays even won for once.
Sure it's not the same triathlon (not even remotely close really) but baseball will always have a place in my heart.