Baseball Ray……

You’re born. You blink. You stay on the blanket. Face down, patooey. Ya learn, ya age, you turnover.
WOW. This life ain’t too bad after all. You start to gain focus. You end up giving love back to those that so dote over you.

You crawl. Not for long, because then you bear walk. Soon, you take off the training wheels (gain courage) and walk. Not far, not long, but ya do.

After awhile, you (kinda) repeat what you hear. Down the road, you pick what you want to say. You are now allover the house, crawling, climbing, tipping things over, emptying the sugar bowl on the living room carpet. You scribble on the wall. With indelible ink.

You go to school, new world. You eventually get used to it. You make friends. Friends move in, friends move out – some ya keep forever. You ultimately one day ‘find’ the opposite sex. Wow, this is weird, but yummy all in the same.

You start baseball with a very soft ball.. whiffle maybe. Squishy plastic bat with a bit of cushion. You bounce a tennis ball off the brick wall outside. You take a plastic bowl – use it as your ‘glove’. It soon conforms to feel natural.

One day, you play catch. The balls get harder. Ouch, that hurts. You finally get it.

You get a glove. Yum. It’s stiff, but beautiful. It’s strange to you – but you coddle, nurture, stare, ogle, and you become one finally.

Some have the same glove their entire life. The older it gets, the better. Oh, not without some woes.. Ya leave it in the yard, rain happens. Soggy. You get the shakes because you gotta wait a few days so it will mostly turn back into it’s old self.

You’re finally “between the chalk.” You make an error, you blame it. You have success, you place it next to you as you fall asleep and dump the teddy bear.

You’ve got some freedom now. You slide it on the handlebars – off you go. You gather with others and their gloves – it’s all good. You compete. You argue. You sweat, toil. You have fun. You back pat. You shake hands. The glove goes back on the handlebars – you’re headed home, hopefully the return is downhill.

There’s a love relationship with your glove. It fits. It’s comfortable. You conform to each other. Again, some go their entire life with the same glove. Oh sure, it weathers, wrinkles, creases, gets a little stiff, but you are loyal, and vice versa.

Some, the glove simply wears out. Others, lose it. Devastation happens. This ‘relationship’ you’d built comes to an end. “Baseball (life) will NEVER be the same.” I’ve seen buddies lose their gloves and they're ready to give up. “I’ll never be happy.” Down the road, they get a new one, not long after – it’s broke in. They’re all smiles now, maybe even – no probably even, like it more than the comfy glove they’d known all that time.

Being left-handed, others tried to help me. But ‘others’, 95% of them, wear the glove on their other hand – and it just don’t work. You know, like handing LH Paul McCartney a right handed guitar. Nice idea, could take awhile – but it never works.

Do you give up on the game? Dare you shop for a new one? Could you ever love it like your last one? If you do, this time, will you bring it in outta the rain? Will you oil, condition, care – treat it with the respect, - and pardon the pun, but give it the “kid glove” care it deserves?

You eyeball ‘em. To short. Too long. Outta my league. I could never afford that one. Not pretty enough. That one’s just not me. You try ‘em on.. you might even go back to the store several times testing, just to make sure it’s right. Nah, I thought so, but ‘we’ didn’t fit.

After weeding out – finding “nope, that one ain’t right” for many – you find “the one.” It’s exciting – you didn’t think possible. You get it.

You (each) treat the other right. You/glove – conform. Soon it fits. You’ve not completely forgotten your ‘old one’ – but you realize – baseball ain’t so bad, I do really like this glove – and the pain has definitely lessoned the grief of not having my old one. Life, baseball go on. Smiles happen. The familiar sounds, the shared camaraderie with others. Ah, the best.

I’ve lost my glove several times in life. I’ll never give up on baseball. There’s too much past and potential love and fun to be had.

The baseball glove, you – are akin to relationships. Some, last forever. Some, you lose ‘em, some, give up – others trudge on – poorly at first, but one day again find that glove that oh so fits, you oh so love
and you play on. You never lose or forget the old glove, but ya learn to love your new glove. Lots for some.

Well, beat the drum and hold the phone – the sun came out today.. We’re born again, there’s new grass on the field. Just roundin’ third, and headed for home, it’s a blue-eyed handsome man – anyone can understand the way I feel.

Oh, put me in coach – I’m ready to play this game. Put me in coach – I’m ready to play, today.

Because I love baseball – and relationships too much, I’ll never put a glove aside. Love, Victurd.