Baseball season is now again upon us.
I usually grow nostalgic this time of year as the weather finally changes for the warmer and thoughts of days with the sun in the sky can be looked forward to. With thoughts of pleasant days, blooming flowers and greener grass comes hopes of baseball. Spring carries with it many things but for me it will always be most known for when my Dad would haul his softball equipment stowed in his bag out of the closet, oil his glove, re-tape his bats and pull new shiny white balls from their boxes. Most monumental though was when he would tune the family radio from the local news station to the station the radio would play for most of the rest of the year, the station that broadcast the Chicago Cubs games. The warmer weather, the scent of leather and oil, the dust of the bats and the excitement and joy that winter was now over and baseball was back, moved all over my Dad’s face. I’m sure Dad knows it now, but he left me that look, too.
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