It’s finally here. Hallelujah, it’s finally here.
Back when I was in high school, my girlfriend at the time made an observation. When we hung out together, I was… well, me. A little quiet, a little reserved, sometimes if I was in the right mood, I could become more excitable.
But on the baseball field, I was a completely different person. I was loud. I joked around with everyone. I had a smile on my face practically the entire time. I’d come home from games and rave about the stupid things my teammates did on the field, but I still found them hilarious. Example: One of our outfielders needed to take a leak but didn’t want to run to the Port-a-Potty behind home plate. So, he had the rest of us create a blockade between him and the coaches gathering equipment in the dugout so he could piss in left-center field. Thank god no one had to make any diving catches in that area that day.
Kevin Millar turned heads when he described one of his Red Sox teams as being a bunch of idiots. Well, that’s how my high school team was, too, and yet I loved it. My varsity head coach was awesome. A man that knew his stuff. Yes, he told us that in order to be a good hitter, we had to master bunting. But he also pointed out that getting a walk was good, as it meant that you avoided that likely chance of hitting yourself into an out instead. He was a guy that you could have fun with, you respected, and you appreciated to have as a coach.