the emotion.
baseball can’t be described in words,
just like an emotion can’t be explained.

baseball is built on the principal of saying something without speaking and that actions speak louder than words.
just like double plays speak louder than walks.

baseball is eating cookies in the fourth inning to get more energy.
it’s sleeping with a mitt under your pillow and not washing your socks.

baseball is having a dented car,
it’s always parking as far away from the nearest field as possible once you’ve learned your lesson.

baseball is living off of hot dogs and coke,
it’s making fun of the little league moms who bring their own sandwiches for lunch.

baseball is a swirling, violent storm,
it’s the crack of the bat that echoes like a clap of thunder followed by a runner as fast as a lightning bolt.

baseball is the smell of dirt and sweat,
it’s the distant nostalgic aroma of sunflower seeds and Gatorade.

baseball is the stinging splinters and the scarring blisters,
it’s the feeling of scrapes and bruises on your hips from sliding.

so no, baseball can not be described in words.
it can only be described in what it does to a person,
how it influences their life.

baseball is so much more than a game,
so it’s only fitting that it never gets overlooked by describing it in words few will understand.

it can only be described in the moments that are burning secrets to those who possess them.
it can only be described as a perfect little moment in a lifetime of uncertainty,
one constant that can be counted on through the pain and happiness, the ups and downs of life.