--- 7 Years, 10 months---
Dear Son,
Baseball is not something you love. And I know that. You like it. But right now, you’re a hoops guy.
But bear with ol' dad for a moment with this letter…
We played catch for the first time today - a legit game of catch, on a field, with an official NCAA baseball - and it was memorable.
I didn’t think this moment would be as cool as it was, but it was. And each time you caught the ball and fired it back, it was surreal.
There’s a lot of beauty in baseball. It’s why I love it. It’s why my dad loved it - despite it being his second love to cricket. There are unexplainable nuances, indescribable accounts, and such randomness that threads through the game that elicits, yes, an unconditional love for the game.
Shooting hoops with you gave me joy. And it still does, because that’s our thing. You love hoops. And as a city kid, basketball will always be in my blood. Every time we play, I enjoy it tremendously.
And yes, you’ll never beat one on one. (Smile)
But, wow!
There was something about today - the simple act of throwing a baseball toward you, and you at me, gloves smacking aloud with each catch, dirt dusting in the air as we move our feet, and just the right amount of sunlight to make an amazing sunset ambiance over it all.
I can wax poetic about it with so many words, and yet, still won't be able to capture the feeling. That’s baseball. And this first catch of ours, well…
…it will forever be memorable. I just want you to know that.
Thanks for the catch. And another moment.
Love, Dad