Anyone who knows me, knows that lucky is not one of the words I use to describe myself. But, I guess that I am.
It's 8am as I wrap this week's column. I am sitting in the press box at Pohlman Field in Beloit and the Sun is shining off the top of the first base dugout in a way that makes this old ballpark seem new.
The birds are chirping and - were it not for the incessant talking of the people at the other end of the pressbox...SHUT UP! SERIOUSLY! BE QUIET! - it is a relaxing feeling here before the 11am game.
This is a feeling that few outside the world of baseball get to experience. The ballpark in the morning is quiet...hold on --SHUT UP! DANG IT! TRYING TO WRITE ABOUT HOW PEACEFUL A BALLPARK IS IN THE MORNING! GEEZ! -- and this is how Henry David Thoreau must have felt when he lived at Walden Pond.
It is a time like this that makes it difficult to explain to people that I actually work for a living. I remember once trying to explain -- PUT A FREAKING SOCK IN IT! FOR COBB'S SAKE!! -- to a high school classmate of mine that there was a lot of work that went into a being a minor league announcer. He stopped me and said, "You watch baseball games for a living. You get to go to a ballpark every day."
"I know, but.."
He cut me off and repeated, "You watch baseball games for a living."
"Fine. You're right. Let me buy you a beer," I said as I conceded that I wasn't going to win that argument.
Sitting here in this pressbox -- GOOD DiMAGGIO! COULD YOU BE LOUDER!??!? TRYING TO ENJOY THE CALM OF THE MORNING AT AN EMPTY BASEBALL STADIUM! -- early on a perfect May morning, I am made aware again how lucky I am to be working in baseball.
Enjoy the day. Enjoy the moments of perfect...ARRRGH! LEAVE ME ALONE! TRYING TO FINISH A COLUMN!!!...tranquility.
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