Even though a faint dusting of snow still lies on the ground, the 2013 USAAA 13-and-under state champion Rebels will be packing up cleats, adjusting cups and heading down the road for the first game of the season on Saturday.
I’ve missed the baseball mamas (dads, too!) and we sisters from other misters have spent many weekends huddled together in blankets or sweating in lawn chairs on the sauna-like concrete in mid-July.
It’s time to reinstate the superstitious practices where white jerseys are worn on Championship Sunday, Wendy stays in the bathroom when we are at bat and Melinda walks down the road when it’s rally time. It’s also time to speak the lingo that belongs solely to baseball and the disciples who watch it.
A Mama’s Baseball Poem
You got this bud!
That wasn’t yours
Now you’ve seen it
Need a golf club for those, Ump!
Be good with two!
Ducks on a pond
Strikes here, kid
Can of corn
My beloved Kansas City Royals also have their home opener in Detroit on Monday and hopes are high for them to be World Series contenders.
I’d also like you to meet my second favorite third baseman:
My most favorite third baseman:
My favorite baseball player of all time:
Instead of further poetic pontification, I’ve left you with a video playlist that highlights the sounds of the announcers, the clink of a bat, the whooomph of 108 stitches into a leather glove and the Church of Baseball.
Even if you don’t love the game, I’m sure you can appreciate the calm that baseball, apple pie and boyhood camaraderie provide as the run around bases chases the last bit of winter out of our souls.
Let’s play ball!