Opening Day

What a weird feeling. Maybe I think too much. Yesterday morning, as I was driving to the Hyde Park Little League Complex off Creek Road, my first thought was: This is the beginning of last chapter of this stage of our lives. James is 15 years old. He’s one of the older boys now in the Senior League. Another year or two of this, and he’s done with youth baseball. He’s trying out for the high school JV team. If he is good enough, JV and varsity baseball are in his future; town ball will soon be in his past. We’ve been coming to the Creek Road field now since 2006, 2007, something like that; 15 years. That’s a long time. And now, those days are numbered. I now know what it feels like for the parents of our graduating seniors at Marist. They’ve been chasing their kids around at meets and games for 10 years, 15 years. And then, poof, it ends. We’re not there yet. But getting closer.

And then the other thoughts. Maybe I think too much. A beautiful Saturday morning in April. How many Hyde Park Little League opening days have I missed? Pretty much all of them! Except that one spring (2015), when I was on the coaching injured list, and even then I don’t think I went to the actual ceremony and parade. Oh. There was no ceremony and there was no parade this year (of course, there was neither last year, either). But, the Creek Road fields were buzzing with people and kids and the snack bar was open and masks weren’t as prevalent as you would have thought … but it definitely felt normal. But it wasn’t. Grateful to be able to watch James play on the big field. But also, painfully cognizant that I wasn’t where I should be, which is a track meet somewhere, on an April weekend. Especially an April weekend with actual nice weather! This is tougher even than last year at this time, which was tough and weird and challenging. Why is this tougher? We’re the only school in the MAAC that is not playing spring sports (track included) right now. That stings. The kids call it FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). I call it MORES (Missing Out Really Essentially Sucks). For our athletes, who have already lost so much, having to see their peers at rival schools racing well in great weather … that’s MORES.

Sorry. The last two posts were hopeful. This one is more contemplative, more realistic. We remain hopeful. The College’s latest strategy is to get the entire student population vaccinated, which will lead to opening up more activities and giving Marist the wonderful feel of community that we all know and love. “More activities” includes athletics. Our athletic department needs a shot in the arm. Literally and figuratively. Now I’m back to the same theme. Will vaccinations save our season? They might. It’s a new race, and the clock is ticking loudly. Four weeks from today is Day 2 of the MAAC Outdoor Track Championships. That’s not a long time. Can we get that shot in the arm to get us back on the track? Hope is not a strategy, they say, but it’s the one we’ve got right now.