The End of Baseball: Another Season Gone

There are so many things to be relieved about as we usher in the end of the 2012 Little League season. No more rushing around to baseball games two or three times a week. No rushing around to and from practice. No deciding between Cub Scouts and Baseball. No more freezing cold night games huddled in blankets on the stands. No more blazing hot afternoon games melting in the California sun. It is the end of the hectic busy spring and symbolizes the first signs of a quiet lazy summer. Yay.

Well, sort of yay. You see, every time the baseball season ends I get a little sad. I enjoy the fresh air. I enjoy watching my son play and have fun out there. I enjoy yelling when he hits the ball cheering him on when he misses and taking him out for ice cream either way. I’ll miss it.

I’ll miss sunflower seeds and lawn chairs. I’ll miss laughing in the stands with my mom friends. I’ll miss cold watermelon during a hot day and hot coffee on the cold ones. I’ll miss the excitement of having the bases loaded and my son strolling up to bat.

Maybe what really gets me sad at the end of the Little League season is that I know there won’t be little league season forever. When each season ends, my son is another year older. Another year closer to not wanting to play baseball anymore. A year closer to not being a boy anymore.

I guess that’s really what I love most about being a Little League mom. It’s that deep down I know someday I will desperately long for these moments back. I will look back and wish that these little League years could’ve lasted just a little bit longer. But until then, I will wrap myself up in these years and enjoy each moment.

“It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops … And summer is gone.” – A. BARTLETT GIAMATTI,