The Great Escape

This could have been about Farley’s foray into the neighbor’s yard, but I didn’t witness that, so I’m not going to write it.  No, it’s about a different kind of escape.

Two days ago would have been opening day for my favorite baseball team, the Baltimore Orioles.  I know this is going to seem trivial, but I’m really missing sports, and I’m particularly missing the start of baseball season. I know that we are practicing looking for silver linings, and I could certainly find some in this case.  For the Orioles, the longer that the start of the season gets postponed, the longer they remain tied for first place in the standings — and generally listed in first position, thanks to alphabetical order. The longer the season is postponed, the more work I get done.

But, that doesn’t carry me very far.  I miss the optimism of opening day. I missed the anticipation of opening day.  I miss seeing the deep green field, hearing announcers whose voices I’ve missed for six months. I miss a smooth swing, a biting curve, and  a shoestring catch.

I think the thing I miss the most is just the escape.  The mostly mindless passage of time. Well, not mindless, because there’s a lot of thinking in baseball, but mindless in the sense that in the end it’s all really of no consequence.  Everything now seems of great consequence. Sure, that escape sometimes brings guilt, as I put off a work task or a yard task to wander into the world of bloop singles and Baltimore chops, or those new-fangled sabermetric stats, like launch angles and WARs (wins above replacement, I know what it stands for, but don’t ask me to explain it).  

I know that the world of sports can also be infuriating.  I’m often disgusted by the mentality of owners, the commercialism of “the product,” and most recently the blatant cheating of some teams, but still, I’m programmed to expect baseball to start at the end of March, and to associate it with spring and rebirth.  This year it’s missing, and it’s ironic that it’s a year when we most need escape and reminders of rebirth.  

I’ve gotten more work done, because I had no hockey to watch all month, no spring training to read about in the blogs, no opening day to race home for.  I sit in my man cave, and what? I write? I am writing right now, as I face my TV with no temptation to turn it on. I’m angled toward an Orioles jersey, signed baseballs, and my Orioles Mr. Potato Head, my orange foam finger, my vintage pennant, and my carved image of Camden Yards, but none of those things tell me to turn on the game or head to  No. They’re silent.

It’s a weird time.  It is slowly dawning on me that baseball was my way of shutting off my too-busy mind.  It was my way of detaching from worries and pretending that I could just play. It was my recess.  I’m realizing that I need to find new ways to separate from work and politics and a runaway virus.   I know that there are people who will be missing much more than baseball. I know that I shouldn’t complain. I know that I will certainly find other ways to occupy myself. I think I’m just realizing that baseball was doing more for me than I had understood.

Now, I’m off to wrestle with my puppy, who has no concept of virus, corruption, or social distancing, and definitely no worries about what he’s missing.

9 thoughts on “The Great Escape

  1. One of the qualities of good writing is the ability to make the reader feel and care about something foreign to them. As one who does not follow or play baseball, this slice made me understand and feel the need for escape. However, I do know the joy of raising a puppy and wish you well in that engrossing task.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I agree with Melanie. When I first started reading, I didn’t think I’d relate because it was a sports post. But you made me understand what sports mean to you. I know my husband is feeling this as well. He hasn’t watched any tv and I think turning work off has been hard. I’m glad you have Farley to distract you.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Your post was timely as my kids have been asking what we will do with no baseball games to watch. I actually read them parts of your post. (Not Orioles fans, but we have been to Camden Yards.) They say you can look forward to opening day, just a little later. They are hopeful!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Our family made a list at dinner the other night of Things We Didn’t Realize How Grateful We Are For …. and “watching sports on TV” was added by husband and one of my boys. This post reflects their sentiments perfectly. Watching sports is an escape for them too, from work from school, from other stressors. The outcome of the game can be all-consuming in the moment and riding the wave of the emotions inspired by it feels good. We’ve resorted to a lot of sports movies over here! I liked your line about everything feeling like it’s of great consequence right now. That’s the constant companion we’re all carrying around, without many opportunities to set it down for a bit. Glad Farley provides some levity for all of you.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Everything seems off in the world. Our work schedule, how we work, what we all about and how the seasons are relate to sports. We can’t even really talk about politics. As the time passes, I find missing things I didn’t know were so important to me

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Thanks for reminding me that what I need is a little “recess.” Your post, your self-awareness, helped me see that I am forgetting that part of the day where I just chill out. I’m lucky that I’m not missing sports, but I know a lot of people around me are *really* missing that time out from the day.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s