May 12, 2013

My Love/Hate Relationship with Baseball

I love baseball. I love the smell of hot dogs on the grill. I love hecklers. I love that bottom of the 9th, bases loaded rush. The team mom's that sit at the gate and make me pay $5 at every game. Ok, maybe that last one was a bold face lie. Still, I can't get enough of it. From the bottom of my heart, I LOVED cheering on Billy and his team through college and even on to the NCAA World Series. I love the relationships we have developed with parents, team members, fans--baseball friends/family make up a huge portion of our social network in the city.

This was taken at the game that got them into the world series championship. I am so glad that one of the girls talked me into going to this game. I was so proud of those boys.
 

Baseball, once it gets in your blood, there's no getting it out; Billy's especially--and not that you'd even want to lose it. Billy wanted baseball to be his career, As any player would dream of, he'd have loved to had gone pro.. buuuut he's too short and slow. {Bummer for our wallets.} But he could light you up in a heart beat if you tried to steal second. When Billy is behind the plate, don't even bother, dude. Unfortunately a catcher can't get drafted on his arm alone, so instead he majored in Math so that he could teach and coach at high school. He would still love to be a full-time baseball coach if the opportunity ever presented itself.


Billy is now coaching high school baseball while finishing up his masters degree in education. When school is not in session, he is coaching with Team Elite. I am so glad he ended up with Elite, because he has been able to learn so much from the other talented coaches, meet so many people involved the sport, develop life-long friendships, and gotten to influence young boys' lives. Not to mention, they have a boat load of talent, but you'll hear me brag more on the Elite boys in June on draft day.

As much as I love Billy's career/hobby, it really is hard to handle sometimes. Summers are especially difficult. Summer ball is starting to pick up steam and will soon be a whirl wind. He will have practice practically every week day. When he doesn't have practice he will be on the road at tournaments throughout the South East. These tournaments are so that kids to be able to be seen by colleges and scouts, so they are unavoidable and very important.
When I started jotting down all of his practices and tournaments to my calendar (so that I am able to plan my Summer), I noticed that between all of the above, most weeks he may have only one or two weeknights that we could spend time together. I work normal people hours, his job starts when we all get off work. So rarely do our paths cross.
You see, Billy and I have kind of made the decision to not live together until we are married, or at least engaged and on the verge of being married. That decision really puts a strain on our relationship in the Summer, because there are 2 and 3 week stents that we regularly go without seeing each other. Other weekends that he is in town, our quality time is spent with a chain link fence separating us. It comes with the territory, and I wholeheartedly accept that's what I'm going to be in for if he decides to ask me to change my last name. It is just especially hard, right now, where our relationship/living situation stands. I feel that once we take the next step, things won't be easy, but they'll be much easier to deal with as at least we'll cross paths when he comes home for bed.

I loved being a baseball girlfriend. I love being the coach's girl. I love the sport. I love the community of friends I have built for myself at the ball park. I love the baseball lifestyle, I really do. I just hate the strain we are about to take on.Wish us luck! and stay tuned for future posts this summer about widow girl and orphan pup.

Play ball!!

2 comments:

  1. Girl I am right here with you on being the whole summer baseball widow!

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  2. Good luck girl. I'm your newest follower from the GFC Lovin Blog HOp :)

    Hilary
    www.youngtexanmama.com

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