On Tuesday night, I got to do something I absolutely love to do; attend a baseball game. I’ve been to countless games in my life for work but the nostalgia, the enjoyment, and the passion of going as a fan… will never die. For me, it’s entirely different.
The last few months have been incredibly hard for my family. My grandmother, the heart and soul of the Boyd family, lost her fight and passed away in March. It was incredibly tough. And truly, it still is. Not a day goes by without me thinking about her. Baseball season adds to that. She loved baseball.
The last ten years or so, my grandmother entrenched her April to October free time with baseball. She loved the Mariners. She’d know the players by first and last name. She would remember who did well and who which team was in town playing. It would be a conversation piece almost every time I saw her. I remember fondly one of our last conversations about the Mariners. She asked me, “Chris, will the Mariners ever win it all?” and I replied “Yes Nana, they will. Hopefully in my lifetime they will.” She agreed and said “I hope so too.”
My nana will never get to see the Mariners celebrate their first championship but her spirit will. All those nights, win or lose, good team or bad… she rooted for HER Mariners. The Seattle Mariners lost one of their biggest fans this offseason.
I attended Tuesday night’s game with my father and older brother, both of whom are going through some health complications at this time. I wanted to get them to a game ASAP this season and fortunately I got to do that.
On this cold, crisp, and spacious Safeco Field night… we could escape from the aches and pain. We could sit there and share our opinions on the team we love, on baseball strategy, and on how the heck could they blow a lead like that. Intelligent fans discussing an intelligent game; one of my favorite things to do in life.
For those hours at the ballpark, life was about third strikes, runs scored and how we should have brought our gloves. I love baseball and how it can bring us together.
Life is like a baseball game. It has a beginning, it has an end… but all the stuff in the middle can never truly be duplicated and never truly predicted. It’s different every time even if the differences are minor.
Thank you, baseball. You continue to be good to me.
