Cue Panic! at the Disco because ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for. Baseball is back THIS WEEK.
It will look different, fans won’t be able to attend the games and some stadiums have opted for cardboard cutouts to fill the seats with crowd noise pumping through the speakers. The schedule has been altered because only 60 games will be played. Certain things we are used to won’t be allowed. But does that matter to me? No. Why? Because BASEBALL IS BACK.
I felt like all of June was a rollercoaster of emotions as a deal was being reached and then felt immediate guilt for the players and families because this seemed like such a bad idea. Professional athletes don’t owe me anything and should be able to take care of their health during a global pandemic. I respected the decisions players made to not join in this season — I probably would’ve made that choice too. But we’ve now reached the end of “summer camp” and the players that want to be on the field are there and my guilt is slowly fading.
I’ve often said that baseball is my happy place. Put me in a stadium with a churro and a beer and I’ll be on Cloud 9. Growing up, it was my escape. When I was 8 months pregnant and on bed rest? You got it. It was my escape. Finding someone that loves baseball and lives in the greatest baseball city in the world (other than Pittsburgh because PNC Park is #1 in my heart) was a dream come true. He might’ve made fun of my previous favorite baseball team until he swayed me to the South Side, but it was for the best. Finding out that there was a Crosstown Cup on our anniversary solidified our wedding date and plans. I’ve even been fortunate enough to make it to many ballparks and see Andrew McCutchen play every year in person from his first MLB season until last year. Baseball is my consistent happy place.
When the pandemic hit and baseball seemed to be a pipe dream I got super depressed. What would I fill my spring and summer with? It was my second year rooting for the White Sox and they were STACKED with young talent. It was going to be their year, as my husband said. Maybe not a World Series year, but a contender. Yet suddenly, everything is gone. The anniversary game, the Field of Dreams game, and any random home game with cheap tickets that we bought on the quick train ride to Sox Park. I’m stuck at home without my favorite pastime during a pandemic.
But it’s back and for the first time in a long five months, I feel like we’re getting back on track as things we love are returning, responsibly. Along with my mental health.
