In case you haven’t heard, the Rangers closed out the Red Sox this weekend. Besides that, the best part of my trip to Opening Day was getting to be with people I haven’t been able to spend time with in a long while. Riding over to Arlington with my colleagues from the communication department at ACU was a treat, and seeing friends from the Dallas-Ft. Worth area at the game was icing on the cake.
No, I didn’t eat a hot dog and I managed to get out of there without buying a single souvenir, cheapskate that I am. It was loud, but I brought earplugs. And our seats were in the boiling sun, but I put on my cap, slathered on sunscreen and didn’t care. It’s amazing what you don’t think to gripe about when you’ve missed something for a long time. While Mercy Me sang the national anthem, I stood there in that sea of red and blue thinking to myself, very few people really know what a big deal it is that I’m here today. But oh, what a big deal, because there was a time very recently that I couldn’t have done that.
I couldn’t help but wonder what other stories about overcoming obstacles to be there were in that crowd. Like the guy sitting in the wheelchair right behind me. Or the stories about traditions of coming to this game. Fathers and sons and grandsons who have been coming to that game together for years. Married couples who make it an annual outing. Old friends reunited who wouldn’t dream of witnessing that first pitch of the season with anyone else.
Sweet stuff like that.
Yeah, there were lots of little miracles happening at the Ballpark on Opening Day. We’d just have to get close enough to see.
And oh yeah, they hit some homeruns, too.