the year doesn't start until opening day

i love baseball. i have a hard time not getting very corny and rambly about it so apologies in advance.

it's been a very special part of my life for as long as i can remember. it was just about the only thing my father and i had in common and even then, we never rooted for the same team. but it was something to talk about. we no longer speak and for a while after we stopped, the sport was too full of memories to fully enjoy. but i got back into it about 8 years ago and my previous casual fandom turned into something slightly more rabid. that's what happens when you move to chicago and get into the cubs in 2016.

game 7 of the world series is still burned in my brain like no other night. i can close my eyes and remember every inning, every person watching with me, all the halloween decorations still on the walls. i remember the tension of the 8th inning cleveland comeback, the unbearable rain delay before the 10th. the eruption and elation when kris bryant scooped up the dribbler and threw it to rizzo to end the long curse and begin the celebration. we all poured out of the house and joined everyone in the streets for an hours long party. one of the more memorable people i encountered was a woman carrying an enormous novelty wine glass with at least one entire bottle of white wine in it. she grabbed me by the shoulders and shouted "you can do ANYTHING you put your mind to. ANYTHING. don't EVER doubt yourself. you're beautiful! we're all so beautiful!"

the cubs haven't quite reached those heights since but it didn't matter, i was hooked once again. i watch just about every game, or at least tune in to the radio broadcast. the daily grind of the season has become part of the rhythm of my life. gives my aimlessness a bit of structure for a few months.

i'll be going to the guardians game tonight for my first in-person opening day game. i'm very happy the game is back. i'm happy to get back into the familiar rhythm.

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