The Perfect Diamond

I like to arrive about ninety minutes early, time enough for my overburdened mind to enjoy an isolated interval of peacefulness and quiet, to abandon one competitive world for another. For it’s during this brief period, as the solemnity of a cloudless, blue sky erases the more complex issues of my life, that something in the farthest reaches of my soul is permitted to leap forward, fanning the flames of passion that compel me to this place of worship.

Not that the passion is ever completely buried, mind you. For it never can be. It’s an obsession woven into my being, a burning in my heart since I was a young boy of six. But, perhaps age and time are irrelevant. Perhaps it all started in my mother’s womb, in a passing of genealogy. Or more imaginable yet, it’s brought forth by some unfulfilled yearning pursuing me from one life to the next. All I know is I’m here because I’m summoned to be. As if it’s been preordained. One of the predominate segments of my predestination.

I’m drawn here by life itself. For other than home, it’s the one place on earth where I attain a sense of completeness. The invigorating sight and smell of fresh, cut grass, the feel of soft, clean dirt, the delicate whisper of newborn leaves on the cleansing spring breeze. I’m brought here by my bonds with heavenly souls of the great men who came before me, and by kindred colleagues of past and present, our momentary mortality allowing us to share in this religion together. All of these vestiges sing out to me in collective harmony, as one sweet, soothing voice of spirit and nature, I am called upon to continue the legacy.

Here, anything is possible, if you’re willing to pay the price. All who enter are granted equal opportunity to achieve rewarding success, to rise above self-imposed limitations. However, all must arrive with the understanding that when striving for such courageous successes, they risk exposing potential weaknesses for all to see. Failure can be unforgiving.

While I find comfort in the distinct boundaries that seemingly restrict this alternative universe, I’m filled with a higher sense of freedom stretching far beyond the outer walls. For although there are lines drawn to represent right from wrong, in from out, offering no gray areas for personal interpretation, I am keenly aware that the boundaries are also limitless as they extend beyond the walls to embrace a panoramic view of other yet-to-be-discovered universes.

Whether it is the pristine setting of a professional, major league spring training complex in Florida or Arizona, or on a backyard sandlot; whether playing under the lights on a cool autumn evening or in the radiant heat of a mid-summer’s afternoon facing Nolan Ryan in Cooperstown, it seems I am forever destined to journey an unwavering path leading to the sanctity of that Perfect Diamond known as a baseball field.