Flowers.  Chocolates. Perfume.  Dinner.  Blah!

If you want to spoil Kath, please

“Take me out to the ball game.  Take me out to the crowd.
Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jacks, I don’t care if I never get back.”

What is it about a game, a win… home runs, hotdogs, sunshine, caps, radio commentary, crazy fans, give-aways, the wave, families, the jumbotron, the pitches, the plays… that makes me happy?  Wait.  That’s what it is!   It’s all of that!

It’s all of that and my baseball buddy.  None of it is any of it without him.

Here we are.  Baseball season.  Baseball without Bill.  Baseball without my baseball buddy.  Fun without the fun-maker.  Without the share-wither.  Without the memory-builder.  Sheesh.

So, I tune in from home, imagine the skies, the chatter, the smells, the come-from-behind thrills.  I remember the pregame show in the traffic, the handy-dandy parking kiosk, the bulging-with-binoculars-transistor radio-peanuts backpack.  I remember the long entry line for the first-20,000 t-shirt.  I remember texting selfies to our friends because of course, they wished they were us.  I remember the gasping awe I felt at the views from the 3rd deck.  I remember bumping into the right fielder once, and restraining an embarrassing scream.  I remember these happiest of happy outings with Bill.

A TV game still happys-up Kath.  Partly because of the rememberings.  Partly because baseball is us, Bill and Kath.  But also because, I’m a baseball crazy even though it’s not the same.

And…

Just so you know… the happiest part of baseball is extra innings.

Take me out to the Ball Game by Jack Norworth and Albert Von Tilzer, 1908