Perhaps that is entirely too predictable. If you know me or have read a single previous post on my blog, you already know I love being at the baseball field. But why?
The man. It warms my heart to see my husband in his element. At the field, he is fulfilled. How many men are so passionate about what they do? Certainly, plenty. But how many wives get to watch their husbands exercise that passion on a regular basis? Very few. I count myself entirely blessed to even have the opportunity to see that side of my husband.
The “kids.” I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it a thousand more times. I really love these boys, and each year I love them more. I love being able to support them, and I would do just about anything for them. Including spending three hours in L.A.’s rush hour traffic.
The outdoors. It’s great to have an excuse to be outside with no work to do and some entertainment. Need I say more?
The adrenaline. This is really a love-hate relationship for me. I joke that every baseball game gives me grey hairs. Seriously, though, I’ve been getting grey hairs, and I refuse to believe it’s because of my age. If we’re losing, I’m on the edge of my seat. If it’s close, I’m on the edge of my seat. If we have a big lead, I’m on the edge of my seat. But I love it. I love the excitement of it all.
The field. Baseball fields are pristine. There is something calming about perfectly cut grass and rigidly straight lines. Even when the dirt gets shuffled around and the lines get scuffed, there is something artistic about the pattern that’s left behind. It’s evidence of the big plays in the game.
The crowd. Not every group of fans knows how to make the most of a baseball game, but when you find one that does, it’s magical. I once had the pleasure of sitting among fans who brought squirt guns and doused each other in water each time their team scored. A good crowd is the best therapy in a stressful game.
The versatility. Today’s Daily Post prompt asks, “Beach, mountain, forest, or somewhere else entirely?” I’ve been to ballparks overlooking the beach, in the mountains, and with the view of a forest. I’ve been to ballparks in cities, ballparks in wheat fields, and ballparks on airstrips. Why choose one if you can have them all?
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Places.”