Take Me Out To The Ball Game

Although I tried my best to resist succoming to the cheesy emotions that washed over me as I hummed along to our National Anthem, tears filled my eyes while I stood with my hand over my heart in Section 121, Row 2, (yes, row 2!) Seat 6 at Dell Diamond. Was it the Star Spangled Banner that evoked this joyous nostalgia? Not quite.

As I composed myself beneath my sunglasses I decided it was the fact that I was about to enjoy another baseball game under the bright lights in Round Rock. It was the Umpires gathering around Home Plate in their trademark grey pants, the orange dirt blowing in the air, and yes, the overpriced drink I had in my hand.

The tradition and history of baseball runs deep in this country. As a 25 year old girl who almost flunked history, I can only state that my genuine appreciation runs deep because of my years of experiences (tradition, we'll say) while playing at Balcones Little League. (Which, if you've ever talked to anyone that played at Balcones for any amount of time, is a common feeling between us all.) Sweating my ass off under the catcher's mask, running the bases like my life depended on it, and celebrating after each game with a free "suicide" soda are some of my favorite childhood memories.

After falling in love with a movie I still quote today, I used to think I could find my own "Sandlot". And as I drive past Balcones over 10 years since I last played on those fields, I can see the lights, listen to the "clang" of the bats and realize it was just as magical as the rundown diamond in the movie. (Minus the big scary dog, of course.) It's this personal connection with baseball that makes being part of it all over again so amazing, even if I'm just sitting in the stands.

I would like to take this moment to thank my parents for not only allowing me the opportunity to play Little League, but requiring me to partake in an extra curricular activity. I'm not sure I would have chosen to play if I hadn't been pushed: A life lesson I will pass down to my children... imagine that.

So, take me out to the Ball Game, take me out to the crowds! Buy me some peanuts and crackerjacks (I actually prefer a frozen margarita and a hot dog!), I don't care if I ever get back... So it's root! root! root! for the Home Team, if they don't win it's a shame! For it's one! two! three strikes you're out at the Old Ball Game!