Thursday, June 19, 2008
Can they just forget about a time when they were substituted. Or told they weren't good enough? Just forget about their whole schedule, the plays, signs, practice times and locations? Fill them with another one? Just forget about a time when they just plain weren't wanted?
Would they be able to remember all the old signs, or will new ones have to be put in place? What about misinterpretations? Ball clubs are infamous for their signs, but it doesn't mean a thing if the players don't remember what they mean. A sign to stay could be catastrophic if misinterpreted for a steal.
So, are grudges still held when they're called up? Or is everything forgotten in an attempt to be the best ball player the team has ever seen?
Well, it's game-time...time to find out. Play Ball.
And-- if everything's right-- a true ball club, a true friend, will be there no matter what.
The lightning flashed all around making brilliant patterns in the sky. Bolts lighting up the clouds for seconds then dissappearing just to reappear in different formations a second later.
The fireflies winked constantly around the pond and in the line of trees underneath the dark clouds. With no thunder, the moment had never been so perfect. Standing behind her, he rubbed her arms to try and take away the chill that had fallen in the air. Occasionally kissing her neck or the top of her head, he wrapped her in a seemingly endless hug. She pulled him closer, not wanting to let him or the moment go.
He knew what she was thinking and said in a low voice, "If you can't hear the thunder, it's too far away to hurt you."
She leaned her head against his chest and remembered the last time he had said that...sitting on the dock at his cabin, watching the storm coming in over the lake. She smiled with the memory.
Never, in her life, had she felt safer.
There is nothing more intimidating than a blank piece of paper. A pure white sheet, with nothing on it. Nothing to taint it, no words or thoughts to make a mess of it. Intimidating. As any writer would say, it's just an open space, waiting for creative words to fill it. It's inviting.
As the Carrie Bradshaw of the Sports world, it's no different. Except, instead of comparing Love to Manolo Blonicks, and men to dogs, I compare teams to friends. Managers to mothers. The home team to a support system, and the visitors to all the evil that rues the world.
Your team. The ones who take the pain of that last pitch away, for a moment. The ones who pull you out of the mess that you, yourself, created. Bases loaded with a count of 3-0, they're the ones who can pull you out of any wreck—if they're good. It just so happens that my team, my relievers are amazing.
~and this is what happens when I get home from seeing Sex & The City the Movie and start watching baseball.....~*sorry*
I don't know what it is, but I just can't get him out of my head.
When I close my eyes, I picture him. Turn on the TV, and I see shows we've watched together. The radio? The Lyrics only speak about him.
They say if you can't get someone out of your head, then maybe they're supposed to be there.
There's just something about him. He's cute, funny, talented, a great listener.
Smart, understanding, hard worker. He knows what he wants and he goes for it.
He's strong, in both mind and body.
His hugs? Comforting. Those kissse? Amazing. His smile? Stunning.
They also say that Summer Romances are the best.
I can't wait for the many bonfires
days that we think will never come to an end.
I can just imagine the piggy-back rides, beach trips, even one or three to Cedar Point. Constant smiles and no problems.
That's summer. The parties, the romances, the grins and good times.
and I can see it all happening with him.
It's amazing how one piece of artwork can reaffirm a friendship that you've known you've had for many, many years.
One spontaneous trip.
Can tell the tale of a frienship. One piece of artwork can explain the happiness,frustration, pain, spontinaity, anger, confusion and sheer exhileration of two people's worlds combined into one.
No matter where I am in the world, I can always look at that and remember. Remember the time when we were dancing in the rain outside on that cool June night. Remember sitting on the rock, and pouring my heart out to you. Or sitting in my car, and having you pour your heart out to me. That heart reminds me of countless nights where I cried myself to sleep thinking I had lost you. Forever. Yet, now, this heart let's me know that I'll never lose you. Not with the bond we've created between us.
When you look at it, I hope you remember as well. Remember the field, and looking up at the stars. Remember swinging in the park. Remember walking the railroad tracks.
The countless laughs.
and numerous tears.
Remember all the things we have taught each other. Some material, others not.
Learning to sail.
Random dance moves.
to open up & not keep things a secret.
how to throw darts.
and most importantly: how to love like neither of us imagined possible.
No matter where I am and where you are, we'll always remember each other. We're marked now. Marked with the memory of each other.
and I wouldn't want it any other way.