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Dear Baseball: Please come back.

09/17/2018, 11:30am EDT
By Jenn Skinner

photo credit: UNC Asheville


Dear Baseball,

Wait! Don't block me. Please hear me out. 

This is the second weekend in a row that you've canceled on me. I miss you. Desperately and completely. I had no idea it would be like this. I know I took you for granted. I wished you away some days last spring. I was even relieved when you canceled on me on a couple of occasions. Okay, more than a couple. It's just that I thought I wanted to have some alone time. But now it's been months and months and it's time for the Fall season to start already. I'm so sorry. I'm miserable without you. I don't know what to do with myself. Everything is so weird.

My stadium seat sits in my car without purpose. I tried to set it up at the kitchen table the other day and it was just all wrong. I've had to make dinner for everyone every single night for two weeks. And that is absolutely not how I roll, Baseball. I need at least a couple of nights a week where I can count on my boys to get some quality nutrition from a hot dog, a bag of Doritos and a Sprite at a Concessions Stand or the 12 piece mild buffalo wings with bleu cheese on the side at the local sports bar after practice and games. 

My washer needs the challenge of a pair of muddy baseball pants this weekend. The tub of OxiClean is still practically full. 

I mean my laundry situation is so boring. Please.

I haven't seen my baseball mom friends in ages. Will we ever dance to 80s music in between innings again or will this all just be a distant memory? Will we ever have another chance to clap and high five each other saying with confidence, "Hey, that was totally a legit double your kid just hit. No, no, of course it doesn't matter that the shortstop threw it three miles over the first baseman's head! I call that a double every day of the week and twice on Sundays." 

What the heck is happening here, Baseball?

Everyday I wander around looking out the window as the raindrops fall and the fog hangs in the air. I jump at each text that buzzes my phone and hold my breath wondering what you will do today. The uncertainty and lack of commitment are making me insane.

Will you cancel again? Will you postpone until tomorrow and then again until next Tuesday? If Little League is canceled does that mean Travel is canceled, too? Are we going to go ahead and have batting practice at the cages since the field's too wet? Are we having practice at the indoor facility instead? Do I go ahead and cancel the Hampton Inn right now or do I just pivot and pretend we're going to have a fabulous family weekend getaway in Any-Small-Town, Virginia, USA if we can't play? If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

Do you see? I'm losing my ever lovin' mind. I don't care about the tree. I care about you, Baseball. I can't take it anymore.

Please come back to me, Baseball. Please, please. All those things I said when I was hot and tired and sweaty? Like that time I made that stupid joke that it seemed like we were in the 23rd inning instead of the 5th? I didn't mean any of it. Please forgive me. I'm lost without you. Please come back.



Jennifer P. Skinner

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