Baseball

There is that stupid saying that I always hate hearing, ¨you never know what you got till it´s gone.¨ I always knew that I liked baseball. I like playing it, I like watching it, I like coaching... why didn´t it ever occur to me that I would miss it so much? It was so routine in my lifestyle, so easy. Baseball, I am so sorry I took you for granted and I promise I will never do it again. If I ever get the chance to go to a game, I will never leave after the 7th inning stretch just to beat the traffic. I will time my pee breaks for commercials and changes between innings. I will always keep the strike-ball count. I will cheer as loud as I can when we (Yankees, duh) get a hit, score, steal a base, or just generally make an awesome play.

It´s been so long, it doesn´t even look right when I spell it out. Baseball, that is how you spell it, right? It is dark times here...

Every day the players sacrifice their bodies for the ball, jumping over fences, diving face-first into the turf, sliding into home base. I miss the scratches and bruises. I miss hitting the ball and that feeling when you see it go flying over the outfielders head. I miss getting hit by the ball. I miss that adrenaline rush when you are on first base and given the sign to steal second, when the catcher drops the ball and you are on 3rd and have less than a second to decide ¨do I go for it, can I make it?¨ I miss watching the relief pitcher warming up and judging her curve-balls. I miss grabbing my glove and running out to the field and tossing around the diamond with my teammates.

 Baseball/softball friends, Amurricans, I know you know what I am talking about. Ecuadorian friends, you don´t know what I am talking about (not most of you), so please help me start a team here. I need it, my body is craving it. Every time that I throw the tennis ball to my dogs I can´t help but think ¨damn, my throw has gotten WEAK.¨ And even with my weak, out-of-practice arm, I STILL can throw farther than my boyfriend.