Actually, everything changed in about three days. I laughed at the idea of taking my bottle of hand sanitizer with me on the plane for our family trip to Colorado—and if the world is moving toward shut down, it is nice to be surrounded by majestic views. Yet by the time I got on the plane to fly back home, I was infuriated that United had no hand sanitizer on board the plane. Oh, if I could turn back time.
I’d also pay more attention to spring training. With preparing for the trip and getting over being sick—it wasn’t Corona Virus, truly, but I stayed away from people for several more days than necessary just because—I saw not a single pitch of spring training. I did listen to a few, though.
It was actually a third of an inning. I stumbled on Howie Rose’s voice during a game from Port St. Lucie against the Cardinals. (I’ll even miss the interminable number of spring games against the Cardinals!) Luis Guillorme bunted for a base hit, which was not especially notable, but Howie Rose’s description of it was. He explained how you rarely see someone bunt for a hit like that anymore—not bunting against the shift, but a drag bunt placed in an ideal spot between first baseman, second baseman, and pitcher. I pictured Lee Mazzilli doing it to perfection in a 1978 game you knew the Mets would lose, 2-1—probably to the Cardinals! Howie was so pleased by it that I was pleased by it. And then someone I never heard of got a double and Luis trundled home. And then there was a walk, and another walk, and a sacrifice fly, and then one more walk, but Howie maintained the a lively patter. I flipped the station when the Cardinals yanked the pitcher—Silvio Martinez? No, I’m still back in 1978.
Well, we wish we were back to a time when things seemed normal. But we’re not. When things are closer to normal, I’ll be back. I’ll miss the occasional email where somebody enjoys my books, or even the website. One thing I hope to learn in this interval is to appreciate the little things more. And all this time with the family—whether in close quarters in Mountain Time or Eastern Time—is a major blessing during a difficult and frustrating period.
In that hopeful future, whenever I complain about something not going right in a baseball game, I hope I can calmly reflect on what small potatoes that it is compared to having no baseball. Or any other activity considered normal, routine. Instead of this situation where everything you hear feels like coming into a game with the bases loaded and nowhere to put anybody. Life without baseball due to Corona Virus makes you long for the little details and realize that it isn’t baseball that matters but normalcy. And family.