Just another grand night

A beautiful night for baseball. Mother Nature treated us puppies to a preview of the dog days of summer, a nice sweltering heat with almost cloudless skies, sprinkled with a number of large hawks, circling like vultures, waiting for one of us to slow down and keel over for a quick and easy pick-up for dinner. Well, we were all moving slow for the most part, guess just not slow enough for the birds of prey to descend. Also lucky for us, most of us may have been a little too heavy to lift up in the air. And they say they are no positives to a little extra weight gain. Again, we go against the norm. Both games were close, undecided until the final inning but, unfortunately, two teams still had to lose, so we’ll quickly gloss over that. On the bright side, a few teams did manage to win.

All seem to be playing better, however, most games were still decided by which team made the least amount of errors. And, this early in the season, there were far from few, each team logging a number of them, win or lose. Perhaps the games were not decided by the number of errors, but by the team whose fielders fell down the least number of times. However, all teams seemed to spend a fair amount of time on the ground, contradictory to the fact that most of us have issues even bending down to field those grounders. Perhaps falling down is an easier route to the ball, if you don’t focus on the fact that you still have to get back up. Maybe the games were won by sheer skill alone. Doubtful, but if it helps some leave the field without shame or guilt, why not. We’re good enough, we’re smart enough and, gosh darn it, people like us. Well, most. Well, enough of them to gain quorum. Okay, maybe they are simply just like us. We’re all damn fine baseball players, are exceptional and know what the hell we are doing. Yeah, that’s it, that's the ticket, that’s what it’s all about. Just keep saying that to yourself and, eventually, somewhere over the rainbow, dreams do come true. Why, oh why can’t I? But, like Dorothy says, ’there’s no place like home’, so make it your goal. And keep clicking those fancy red shoes.

Forget the clicking. Hit the ball and move those shoes quickly on the ground, moving your little ass (or whatever baggage you carry) quickly from base to base, until you have no place left to run. No fancy hike up a yellow brick road, far less than a balloon ride, but exhilarating just the same. Especially if you go all the way (for some, more than once, with a single swing of the bat). Probably best just to take it one base at a time, just make it to first and make others do the work, hitting you around the rest of the bases. Never, if possible, do all the work yourself, share the wealth, lets others feel like they have contributed to your success. Or, you can make the ultimate self-sacrifice, and hit the long ball, making it all the way all by yourself, taking the burden off others.

Or not. Whatever your decision, it’s bound to be fun…for someone. Okay, for all of us. If not, you’re still doing it wrong. Hit the ball when you can, run as fast as you can to where you need to be and, then, enjoy the ride. It always tends to be some sort of adventure, even when it is more of a misadventure. Those can even be more rewarding. And, never worry, the ground is sure to break your fall.