I learned to love baseball through my first husband Pablo. It's a beautiful game perfectly designed to mimic the rhythm of nature: spring training, months of games that allow you to lazily take it in (now 44, I vastly prefer to listen to the game through the MLB app - love my hometown guys), and then a mad rush to the postseason just as …
I learned to love baseball through my first husband Pablo. It's a beautiful game perfectly designed to mimic the rhythm of nature: spring training, months of games that allow you to lazily take it in (now 44, I vastly prefer to listen to the game through the MLB app - love my hometown guys), and then a mad rush to the postseason just as school is beginning in Sept, all capped by exciting playoffs before the doldrums of winter set in. I love sitting in the stands with a book. I love this game. And I feel like it's one of the few connections to the man I loved, who is no longer here to watch a ballgame with me.
I learned to love baseball through my first husband Pablo. It's a beautiful game perfectly designed to mimic the rhythm of nature: spring training, months of games that allow you to lazily take it in (now 44, I vastly prefer to listen to the game through the MLB app - love my hometown guys), and then a mad rush to the postseason just as school is beginning in Sept, all capped by exciting playoffs before the doldrums of winter set in. I love sitting in the stands with a book. I love this game. And I feel like it's one of the few connections to the man I loved, who is no longer here to watch a ballgame with me.
This is beautiful.