Empty diamonds

There is something magical about empty baseball diamonds. Over the past six months I have watched baseball at various times during the day. In March, I experienced my first spring training in Clearwater, Florida. The Philadelphia Phillies call Clearwater their spring training home. Each March, fans make the pilgrimage from the cold Northeast to the sunny Gulf Coast of Florida, not only for warm weather, but to scout the new prospects, players and veterans. 

Booking my spring break trip, all I knew was that I was going to sit at the minor league complex all day. Little did I know that this trip would change my life. One morning, I watched the sunrise over the complex. It was one of the most peaceful moments of the day. I sat on the bleachers watching the grounds crew perfect the dirt around home plate with the sun rising behind me. A few players walked out of the clubhouse to stretch and jog, but mostly, I was alone attempting to control my excitement for the day ahead. Looking out at the emptiness of the diamond, the perfectly cut grass and raked dirt, calmed me down and exemplified the simplicity of the game.

Over the summer, I attended a few Red Sox games at Fenway. Walking up the tunnel, gives me the same rush today as it did when I was young. Reaching the end of the tunnel, the field is in sight and I can’t help but smile. One amazing part of the game is that in between innings, the field is barely empty. There is always one player walking off while the next player is running out to their position. Even though it is a new inning, there is never a “clean field” to symbolize the new beginning. It’s a constant cycle of players on and off the field. I always stay until the crowd files out, and I am in a sea of empty seats. The field still looks perfect and empty. I look around, realize that the lights are almost off and then head out to the busy world outside of the old ballpark. I am in a fog walking down Landsdowne Street to Brookline Ave and into Kenmore Square. I am still looking up at the dark wall and that the perfect field is ready for another game tomorrow. 

An empty ballpark is a place where I have no worries, fears, or concerns. It takes me away from the “real world” and places me in a calmer state. I can sit at a ballpark for hours and it’s always changing. It might be subtle changes, but the sun is always hitting the walls and press box at different angles each day. All ballparks and people are unique. Staring at an empty diamond slows life down for that moment in time and resets my brain. 

Quote: “Don’t tell me about the world. Not today. It’s springtime and they’re knocking baseball around fields where grass is damp and green in the morning and the kids are trying to hit the curve ball.” - Pete Hamill