2020 was shaping up to be a big concert year for me. Sturgill Simpson (top of my concert bucket list) at the Garden, field tickets to Guns N Roses at Fenway Park and Kiss at the Waterfront, all made up my schedule of summer 2020. But I still miss baseball more.
Baseball is every day. It’s such a part of life in the warmer months, that even with humid 88 degree weather like we have had, it still doesn’t feel like summer yet. It’s like we’re having some unseasonably warm mid-March days, because at 7:10pm I’m not tuning into Red Sox baseball.
Think about this: you have never had a summer in your life without the Red Sox playing baseball games.
(Players didn’t go on strike in 1994 until August 12th.) Think about that: when was the last summer without baseball? (Answer: the mid-1800’s.) Somehow my Dad and I still talk on the phone, but now it’s about menial topics like the weather, the pandemic and my future, instead of the important stuff like “what ails that reliever they brought in last night?”
I miss going to games. The week everything stopped, I was supposed to go to Fort Myers for a highly anticipated vacation and 3 spring training games. I’ve already tossed out four Sea Dog tickets and two Red Sox trips have gone by the wayside as well. And that’s okay, there will be more games, someday, but I feel for those who there are no more games for.
The Little Leaguers, who for them, this was going to be their 12-year old summer. Or the high school seniors who were going to play the last baseball of their lives, either on high school or legion diamonds.
I played golf this weekend with a friend of mine who I played legion ball against and we debated which season would be worse to miss: your last season of Little League or your senior year/last year of legion ball?
I LOVED playing Little League baseball, but for me it was a no-brainer, senior year and legion. Those were the last games that I ever played, aside from a few fall leagues and twilight leagues later in life. Nothing could top taking the field under the lights at Hippach Field in Farmington, Maine on a summer night. Fans packing the grandstand, most of them with Gifford’s cones and to watch the Franklin County Flyers.
To think that this isn’t happening or won’t happen this summer is a damn shame that goes beyond a few postponed concerts.
Those can be made up, but missing out on a summer of baseball is missing out on a summer of life.