The Opening Day That Wasn’t

Social Distancing Day 16 …

The closest thing I’ve had to human interaction in the last 16 days was the delivery guy dropping off my buffalo wings tonight … so I’m now writing to baseball.

Hey baseball,

It’s been a while. When we said our goodbyes last October, I thought we’d be together again in five months. I thought it was just a pause, a break, a see you next spring.

I’m not saying I wasn’t bitter. We didn’t exactly end on good terms, did we? Ha, no, I was furious. The way we ended it … well, it wasn’t pretty.

Maybe I blamed you too much. Maybe I was too angry. Maybe I moved on a little too quickly. I guess football was right there to pick up the pieces.

But I promise, football could never replace you – not even with the most shocking upsets or improbable comebacks. And maybe you saw how hard I fell for basketball over the winter. But basketball isn’t you.

I mean, come on. We’ve ended on worse terms before, haven’t we? A four-game sweep in the NLCS is still an NLCS appearance.

Today was supposed to be something, one of those days I’d typically count down to in my head and constantly visualize and dream about. I was supposed to bounce out of bed and be distracted and overly excited all day.

There was no bouncing, just unceremoniously rolling over, picking up my laptop and propping myself up to start working from home after sleeping on the couch. (Any way to get a couple extra seconds of sleep, am I right?)

But I guess you’re sheltered in place somewhere, too.

Social isolation is weird, but maybe you’re used to it. You did just spend about a third of the year in hibernation. And I bet you hoarded all the best snacks. I can almost taste the endless nachos, hot dogs, ice cream and mini-doughnuts you’ve probably amassed.

You probably have excellent survival skills as well. You’re like what, 150 years old? You’ve seen it all – the world wars, the Great Depression, the Spanish flu, your own commissioner trying to change everything about you.

Anyway, I hope you’re doing well.

Don’t come back until it’s safe. But when it is, I’ll be waiting.

Love,

A socially isolated baseball fan

P.S. I wish I could say, “We will see you tomorrow night,” but I don’t really know when “tomorrow night” will be, so until then …