Sports by Any Other Name

I’ve always connected sports with exercise.  Don’t ask me why, because I couldn’t say.  I guess I like the idea of competition with sweat involved.  Otherwise, all you’re doing is playing Monopoly or, conversely, doing jumping jacks.  Give me sweat-drenched victory.

 

By that definition, taking a walk with my daughter and son-in-law on the warmest day of a still-young year qualifies more as jumping jacks than baseball or football.  Wait, I tried to walk ahead of everyone else, so it kind of did fit my definition of sports.  On top of that, I got to see these two young people for the first time in five or six weeks.  You can’t beat that with a stick.

 

So, Michele and I drove out to where Clare and Chris live, which is right next to a pedestrian/biking path that goes clear out to Elgin or Aurora, take your pick.  Of course, we talked a lot about sports.  Chris is worried about a friend who works in the athletic department at a midsized university.  If they don’t have football in the fall and the revenue it generates, this person may be without a job.  Such are the times we live in.

 

The child seems to be going through a worse case of baseball withdrawal than her old man is.  “Why can’t they have ballgames with just 5,000 people in the stands?” she wanted to know.  “I could sit with people I know, and there’d be nobody in the row in front or behind us.”  Well, maybe we should bring that to the commissioner’s attention, dear.

 

We also discussed how much time players would need to be ready to go out and play.  Yesterday, Clare sent along a video of White Sox prospect Dane Dunning pitching after having Tommy John last year.  At least he looks ready.

 

Play ball.  And, if we can’t do that, find some loved ones to take a walk with.