I am a baseball widow. And I have earned that title.
Let me start by saying that the Ex was a college baseball coach. We moved to a different state every time he landed a better job. I went to hundreds of games to be supportive. I went to Lamaze class by myself because I was inconveniently pregnant during baseball season.
The irony that the Boy works in baseball has not escaped me. When he told me what he did for a living I said “Oh, cool!” and thought “Oh, holy hell!”
Life with baseball is a constant for me.
Sometimes it’s cool. Often it’s not.
I get free tickets. I can hang out in the family lounge if it rains or snows or gets so cold you can’t feel your ass anymore. During the playoffs, they loosen the rules and let girlfriends fly on the team plane.
And I love love love baseball (thank gawd). You will rarely hear me complain.
The downside is the distance. I have a job and a child. The Boy travels 9 months out of the year. I fly to games when I can, but it’s often hard to get away. Sometimes I can take the Princess. She loves it. She has recently learned that baseball has 'runs' and not 'points'. I’m so proud!
I spend A LOT of time in airports.
The 5-star hotels that the Boy stays in definitely don’t suck. But he has to leave me at the hotel to go to the park at the crack of dawn . I’m usually left to explore cities (or, um, shop) on my own. I get a cab to the stadium, pick up my tickets and hope that the game ends early enough that I’ll get to spend a few hours with him after the game. We've been in so many cities together that we can recall a good memory and have NO idea where that memory actually originated.
Sometimes I know a few faces at a game. Sometimes I don’t.
I hate hotdogs.
The Boy collects awesome signed baseballs for me. I don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s actually the John Cusack ball that’s my favorite (I worship at the shrine of Lloyd Dobbler, after all).
(My Lloyd Dobbler ball)
I sometimes get to meet the legends in person. I get to go to cool parties.
I miss him. All. The. Time.
I saw the Boy last week in Florida. I won’t see him again until mid-April when the Princess is on Spring Break.
I have it good. It’s fun. It’s exciting.
It’s really, really lonely.
The Boy is worth it.
I’ve earned my title.