Photo courtesy of Alana Smith
Opening Day.
There’s such anticipation that builds for the opening day of baseball. Kids love it. Dads love it. Moms love it. I mean, what’s not to love? Baseball is a lifestyle between the months of March and May, honestly. You know not to schedule any trips because you’ll miss a game, and your team needs you. The start of baseball also signals the beginning of spring, with the dull of winter finally on its way out. The sun will shine down on the bleachers, and the wind will carry with it the smells of hot dogs and concession stand fries.
But it’s not just better weather. It’s the new cleats and hats. It’s a favorite number on a new jersey. It’s the dirt that will cover every child, player or not, each Saturday. It’s a perfectly broken-in glove. It’s the sound of a ball hit to the fence. It’s a full count and down by one. It’s sliding into home plate for the first time. It’s the look from your son as he steps up to bat. It’s the grass stains that you’ll never get out and the messy eye black smears. It’s a double play at third base. It’s a little brother watching in awe. It’s a proud mother. It’s a nostalgic father. It’s your team with a big win. It’s a lifetime of memories, built in a few short years.
This is baseball.
And it is finally here.
Alana Smith is a boy mom (ages 10 and 5), nurse anesthetist, and writer in Birmingham. She shares her writing at Holy Moly Motherhood (on Facebook and Instagram), where she tackles all things motherhood and marriage.