For the second year in a row, our lives have been overtaken by neighborhood baseball. I missed a lot of last year in a prednisone induced MS fog, but nevertheless baseball reigned supreme through spring. I hadn't noticed so much last year how our little neck of this city comes alive for baseball season. People we haven't seen all year suddenly become the recipient of 80% of our text messages and “family dinner” takes place in parts but none of us seem to mind. It's amazing how you don't notice the madness because it's all worth it twice a week when you stand by the fence or on the bleachers screaming at your respective team to “swing the damn bat!” Or on the other side “catch the damn ball!”.
There is something so natural about setting life to the side for your kids sports, or any other activity for that manner. There is a lot to be said for watching your children do something that you weren't aware you remembered so fondly. My son plays baseball on the same field his great grandfather helped build and his grand father played on. You can't fake that and you certainly can't top it. There is a a sense of pride when he brags that there is a plaque with his great grandpa's name in the main diamond. He loves telling that story 🙂
Most of us are a self involved (myself included) that it is nice to see anything that drags us all out of the house. So many of these kids have family members who played on the same diamonds they are playing on, and you can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting someone who knows that the movie “Sandlot” was filmed on this field. It's a pretty awesome little place to be 🙂
Crappy weather and all, I love spring in Utah….