Baseball is my absolute favorite thing to do in this world whether it be watching it, talking it, and most of all, playing it. However, since I'm now too old to play in any of the leauges around here (be it American Legion or Babe Ruth), there is a huge void in my life. Just a few minutes ago, I was talking to my father about some of the games I used to play and how much I truly miss playing baseball hit me.
I miss taking infield/outfield. I miss taking BP. I miss sitting in the dugout, bullshitting with my teammates. I miss catching fly balls. I miss throwing guys out at different bases. I miss stealing. I miss taking the ball the other way. I miss cheering my friends on and hearing them do the same to me. I miss it all.
What saddens me most, though, is that I find it incredibly hard for me to effectively write about baseball. In my spare time, I enjoy writing but have yet to write a great story focused soley around baseball. I try and I try yet I can't spill my love of the game onto the page. It doesn't make me feel like I love the game any less but at the same time, I dissapoint myself.
At the same time, though, I sit and reflect on the game of baseball and realize that even without my words, baseball is already everything I want my writing to be--beautiful, eloquent, flowing, coherent, concious, exciting and never boring.
There is nothing in this world I miss more than lacing up my cleats, banging the dirt of them before stepping into the box, tapping the plate, staring down the pitcher, wishing for the ball to come to me with two outs and a man on second so I can throw him out at the plate, sprinting to make that catch in the gap, stretching that double into a triple, stretching that single into a double by stealing second on the very next pitch. I miss it all.

Alyssa Miller
Hannah Davis


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