Take Me Out to the Ball Game

I'd like to say that I haven't written in a while because I was off doing fabulous things in fabulous places with fabulous people. Well, you could actually say that depending on your definition of "fabulous."

My darling bro moved back to Abilene last week for a few months before his next venture. It's fun to have him in town, and I'm looking forward to him being here for a while.

We decided to go to a baseball game last Friday night at Dixie Little League, and it shook up all sorts of memories. I had been thinking about Dixie a lot lately; the two women I work with have sons that play there. Although, to tell the absolute truth, I've been really craving a Dixie burger and their delicious fries. We got there for the 8 o'clock game and it looked exactly the same. Kids running around, the griddle hissing and the smell of french fries mixing with the smell of cut grass.

We waited one million hours to get our food, so we sat up on the top level of the stands, and noticed how small all the kids on the field looked. They're still trying their best, intent on getting a hit and ignoring the signs posted on the fence that say "Remember, It's Just a Game." (Some parents do a good job of ignoring that sign, too, if I'm being real honest.)

Finally our food was ready, and we chowed down. We decided to "share" some fries, which really means that he eats three or four, and I devour the rest. Sorry, not sorry. The burger tasted exactly like it used to, delicious, almost sweet. I remembered one time, years ago, when I dropped half of my burger in the dirt and was nearly in tears because it was so good and I had ruined it. It feels like most of my summers were spent at Dixie, either watching my brothers play or over on the sandy playground with my friends, trying to talk to boys and be cool, and failing miserably.

A place can be so familiar, even if you haven't been there in years. Dixie will always hold a special place in my heart, like somehow it was important or helped shape me into who I am...Then again, like the sign says, it's just a game, and it's just little league. Maybe I simply enjoy eating a good burger outside on metal grandstands, chomping on fries, and feeling a little Abilene wind blowing through my hair.

I took a picture of the fries, but it was too dark to see them. Trust me, they were delicious.