Hopes for heaven

I hope heaven is a lot like springtime in East Tennessee.

Endless blue skies, mild temperatures and plenty of sunshine. Just leave the pollen out, will ya, God?

The good Lord knows a lot better than me, of course, but here's some other things I hope are there:

Heaven is one endless baseball game. It's always a beautiful afternoon, the home team always comes from behind to win, Dale Murphy is always playing right field and Greg Maddux is always on the mound.

The hot dogs are always fresh and the Coca-Cola always comes from a fountain. The girl you love more than anyone else in this world is always sitting beside you.

Your sister and her husband show up just as Maddux strikes out the side in the top of the first. After while, your mom and dad will come along and stay a few innings. Skip Caray and Pete Van Wieren are always doing the broadcasts. Skip still hates to explain the infield fly rule.

By the top of the third, your four best friends show up to sit with you for a few innings. There are no mindless promotions, no loud rock music, no obnoxious guy in front of you trying to start a wave. Nope, it's just baseball with those you love.

The game will start back up, just like this, tomorrow afternoon. But after the big win in the bottom of the ninth, you head on home to a steak dinner topped by (Please, God, "Yep, she made it") your favorite dessert.

After dinner, you take in an episode of "Gunsmoke" or "Magnum, p.i." while she watches the latest reality show on the other TV. As twilight falls, you sit with your sweetheart on the back porch swing, watching the sun set and listening to Seldom Scene on the radio.

At night you pull her close and take her into your arms, neither of you ever to leave the other's side. There are no problems, no ambiguity, no worries and no broken hearts.

The first pitch is always at 1:05 p.m., the sun's always shining and she is always mine. And everybody you love is right there with you, just in time to watch the Braves win it in the ninth.

Hey, God, I'll love whatever Paradise you have in store for us. But I don't need a mansion, streets of gold, a harp or a crown.

Just give me baseball, mom and dad, Mamaw and Papaw, Jenna and Rance, Skip and Pete, my best good friends and the one I love.

If that ain't heaven, I don't know what is.