What gets me through the winter

I think that Opening Day is the greatest of all days, hands down. Because it's the day of possibilities, and there's nothing in life like possibility. Embracing what it is that's offered is one thing; opening up and creating something entirely new is another. Sure, Spring Training offers up it's own dreams, but they are almost meaningless, a trial run. It's like trying on an outfit; sure it might look fine in the dressing room, but you never know what it will look like in real life. That outfit might look great in the dressing room, but horrid on the street, a misleading farce of unknown drama. Or the bright lights and misshapen mirrors might distract from the shear simplicity of it all. Either way, you never know what's going to happen until it's out there for real. That's the way everything in life is; you never know what's going to happen until you actually go out and do something. I think that's why I love baseball so much; it's a child's game, a boy's game really, but one that somehow I've embraced as if I was a player myself. There's nothing that can replace that for me. The technicolor fantasyworld in which I dream is richly enhanced by the green of the outfield, the crisp white of the uniforms, the reddish brown of the infield dirt. The crack of the bat, the murmur of the crowd, the crunch of peanuts as ecstatic fans rise to their feet. The warmth of the sun beating down on a spring day, the tingles of excitement and anticipation. The wafting odor of hotdogs combined with that of freshly mowed grass. The taste of mustard mixed with the tiniest bit of sweat. These are the things that get me through the winter.