Baseball: Life’s Most Enjoyable and Affordable Form of Therapy

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Zack Zehner connects with one at Arm & Hammer Park

 

This summer marks the first in four years I haven’t needed to work a second job.

As a result, two wonderful things happened. First, I spent more nights and weekends with My Favorite than I have in years. Together Stacy and I spend time sitting on our back deck, reading, drinking wine, listening to music, taking our dog for long walks, catching up on some good television and simply being in each other’s company. It’s been the greatest gift I have received in years.

Second, I have also used this free time to go to a lot of minor league baseball games. This has proven to be more beneficial than I ever imagined it would. I thought it might be fun to see a few ballgames and my wallet not get gauged in the process. So, after finding myself seeing about 10 games of the Somerset Patriots and another 10 of the Trenton Thunder, I learned something about myself. I learned there is no better way to clear my mind that is more enjoyable, and more affordable, than minor league baseball.

I can tell you that years ago I used to see a therapist and she was tremendous. Through our sessions, I learned what I needed to do in order for it to be successful. I had to enter with a need, and then leave improved.

Often, I did.

I also learned going to the therapy is both expensive and brief. Costing anywhere from $75 to $150 an hour (more in the city), and lasting anywhere from 45 to 60 minutes, it seemed a bit expensive.

As it happens, I unwittingly found the answers to my concerns. I have found a new therapist! The rates are fantastic and there isn’t exactly a time limit. There are two offices I can choose from; both are huge and seat thousands at a time. They encourage yelling, screaming, cheering, dancing, singing, and even hugging a six-foot dog (Sparkee) or bird (Boomer) that spends the better part of his time inspiring others.  Of course you are at the mercy of their schedule and availability, but you can make an effort to make it work on your end.

It’s the ballpark.

For about 15 bucks I can get at least two, sometimes three, hours of therapy in one shot.

I have learned for it to work – and I mean really work – you have to look beyond running the bases and scoring runs.  You have to look beyond winning and losing.

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For me, it begins like many good things, standing at attention for the playing of our national anthem, our baseball cap pressed to our chest.

And then …

       – It’s looking over at the woman or man next to you, and you see them saluting. Veterans, you realize and a renewed appreciation for the anthem rings in your heart.
       – It’s the purity of that one moment between the end of the anthem and just before the Ump cries “PLAY BALL!.” If there is one solitary moment that I love most, it may be that one.
       – It’s watching a pitcher on the mound; his eyes focused below the brim of his cap.
       – It’s him shaking off a sign, and then nodding.
       – It’s wondering what he shook off.
       – It’s the wind up and delivery, the release and follow through of the pitch.
       – It’s the pop you hear from the catcher’s mitt, when a 95 MPH fastball is caught.
       – It’s the cracking sound the bat makes when it connects with a 95 MPH fastball.
       – It’s the home run that reached the upper deck.
       – It’s watching a professional ballplayer, in some cases just a kid, mature and learn life lessons on the diamond.
       – It’s that same kid dumbfounding seasoned ballplayers with his table dropping curveball.
       – It’s an Umpire who puts some Oomph in his calls and bellows an animated “Youuuuuuuu’re OUT!”.
       – It’s the childlike smile on the face of the 60-year-old “kid” who just caught a foul ball.
       – It’s hearing him tell his wife “this is the first one I ever caught.
       – It’s when the team mascot decides YOU are perfect person to join him or her in their next set of antics.
       –  It’s when the woman you love most in the world shudders when you follow the mascot.
       – It’s cracking open peanuts from their shell.
       – It’s when you notice how brilliantly white the bases are at the beginning of a game.
       – It’s the perfectly raked infield.
       – It’s white balls and red stitching.
       – It’s watching an outfielder track down a fly ball. Later he tells his teammate his glove is where triples go to die.
       – It’s grown men staying boys, imagining they are their heroes from years ago.
       – It’s rising to your feet when a ball is hit deep.
       – It’s a pitcher’s best friend – a 6-4-3 double play.
       – It’s that surprise breeze when it hits the sweat on your neck while basking in the sun.
       – It’s the familiar rallying cries you hear from stadium to stadium.
       – It’s the hand clapping and the foot stomping.
       – It’s the guy two sections over trying to bring back “the wave.”
       – It’s Cracker Jacks.
       – It’s standing up and stretching after the top half of the 7th and singing Take Me Out to the Ballgame.
       – It’s smiling when people sing “and I don’t care if I ever get back…” when you know it’s “never get back.”
       – It’s watching the runner on first getting a good jump to steal.
       – It’s the catcher throwing a frozen rope to the shortstop then putting the tag on the would-be base stealer.
       – It’s watching the umpire get excited when calling him out or safe.

It’s more than I can describe. If you love this game as I do, then we both know I have only scraped the surface.

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Atlantic League All-Star Game at TD Bank Ballpark

When I walk in the gates an hour before the first pitch, I hope to put my troubles behind me.

When it is time to leave, win or lose, I am always where I need to be. Relaxed. Happier. Kinder.

I entered with a need. I left with pure joy in my heart.  I would venture to guess that could qualify as “improved.”

Live minor league baseball – it has become my life’s greatest form of therapy.

Follow me on Twitter at @patrickkerrison

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Coming this Friday, August 25th … 

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Why Sparkee – The Somerset Patriots Mascot – Would Be the Perfect Therapist.

 

 

 

 

 

 

… And Now, Here Are Our Somerset Patriots

Since the first time I clipped a microphone to my lapel, I would tell anyone who’d listen that calling horse races was the most fun I’ve ever had with my clothes on.

Last night, that same level of fun was mirrored when announcing the lineups for the Southern Maryland Blue Crabs and my Somerset Patriots.

Screenshot_20170806-084210Taking full advantage of their MyRewards program on the Somerset Patriots app I have collected over 2,300 points and have made great use of them.  Last night, I “spent” about 1,500 of those points.

The first 750 were on the opportunity to announce the line-ups.  I arrived at 6:30 p.m. as instructed and at about 10 minutes or so before 7:00 p.m. I was brought into the Press Box.  PA Announcer Paul Spychala introduced himself to me and I’m not gonna lie, I am pretty sure he had no idea he was about to have company.  

That, however, didn’t phase him in the slightest as he was more gracious and helpful than I could have asked for.  In a short period of time he assisted on many fronts.

  • He ensured I was comfortable with the pronunciation of each player and coach.
  • He had the wisdom to shut the mic off after I finished one team and went to the next.
  • After I caught my breath his prompt of “ … and now” was more appreciated than he may have realized and
  • Whether he meant it or was just being extraordinarily polite and gracious he seemed somewhat impressed with my performance.  After listening to this fella for years in my hometown stadium, that was a kind and thoughtful endorsement…and very much appreciated.

Here is the audio of my time in the booth.

Then the evening got even better.

If you know me by now you know I love mascot humor.  Sparkee and Slider bring absolute joy to my life every game I go to.

Remember around the holidays when you would see a kid notice Santa in a store for the first time and they really really think OMG THAT’S THE REAL SANTA?!?!?!?!?!  Remember how big their eyes got?

Yeah, well, that’s kinda sorta maybe how I am when I am with Sparkee and Slider.  I can’t help it.  They’re freaking adorable and their performers are just so darn good at their work.  They’re always a great deal of fun.

Well, after Sparkee made all our hearts melt by making the cutest little girl in the stadium happy, he waved his paw at me to come follow him.  Smartly, he encouraged me to leave my beer with Stacy and Chris.  

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This little girl sat in the row behind myself, Stacy and Chris.  We don’t know her but we all agreed she may, quite possibly, be the cutest little thing ever to see a baseball game.

Moving four rows to the front, beside the Patriot dugout Sparkee motioned to me that he was going to count me down.  Fortunately for me I speak mascot and asked “do you want me to holler SOMERSET, encouraging others to yell PATRIOTS?”  His magnificently massive head nodded in such a way as to assure me that was precisely what my six foot canine friend wanted me to do.

I could not let him down.   By golly, I would not let him down.

He counts me to three and I scream, at the very top of my lungs “SOMERSET!” and section 115 screams “PATRIOTS.”

The puppy seemed pleased.  We did it again.  It got louder.  Then we did it a third time, the response grew louder.  

We had something strong going here, this pup and I. 

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For those unsure, I am the one on the left.

Even though his eyes may have been sewn onto his head, I think I saw them get bigger.  He runs up the stairs and goes to the second tier of seats, jumps up onto the railing, looks at me and counts me down AGAIN!

I bellow as loud as I can “SOMERSET” and a well received “PATRIOTS” followed.

Sparkee is pleased.  Slider comes over and joins in the encouragement.  Oh yeah, this is a good night.  Sparkee then bounces over a couple of more sections and has me yelling again and again.

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Flanked by greatness, I stand between My Favorite and Slider

I think Slider may have seen or heard something in my voice give because after about seven or more screams of SOMERSET, they gave the thumbs up.  My work here was through.

Then, Sparkee meets me at the top of the stairs of section 115 and hugs the stuffin’ out of me.

Seven or eight innings later our boys lost 5-0 to Southern Maryland but all in all, it was the perfect night.

I announced the lineups and did it well.  I was part of Sparkee and Sliders rallying cry for our Patriots, and I got to sit next to Stacy along with our dear friend Chris for nine innings.  The people who introduced Stacy and I to each other – Brett and Michelle – came out to support me and as luck would have it, Brett caught a foul ball of his own.

As someone who believes what comes around goes around, and since so many things that evening were going so well, I’d be a fool if I wasted any time in paying it forward.  I went to Customer Service and used my remaining 750 reward points to get three official Atlantic League baseballs (all game used foul balls) and gave them to three kids sitting near me.

Granted, I didn’t know the kids but that was part of the fun.  I figure since the Patriots and my friends gave me the best evening in baseball I have ever had, why not try to assist in other kids like me (albeit 40-plus years my junior) have a great night, too?

I’ll tell you this: the Patriots may not have won, but I feel like I hit for the cycle.  What a night.

Thank you Somerset, for both the opportunity and more fun than $15 should ever provide.