Rest stop

Never underestimate the healing power of baseball.

I'm tired. Don't feel too well. Passed another kidney stone over the weekend. But I look at it like this: gave me an excuse to lie on the couch for two days and watch wall-to-wall basketball. And a couple of episodes of "Magnum, p.i."

Anyway. Wrapped up work this afternoon. Really wanted to go home. Needed a nap. But I also needed to get to my one weekly Halls High baseball game for work.

Naw, I didn't think I could drive by the ballpark and not stop, either.

Turned out to be the right move. Halls won a wild one, a 13-12, "let it all hang out" thriller. Saw an old friend from school. Ate a hot dog with chili smeared all over it. Watched the sun set.

They say life is a series of moments. For better or worse, these are mine.

I once tried to psychoanalyse why this game has such a magnetic hold. Still don't know the full answer.

One of them has to be because I can always count on it. Like clockwork, it shows up in the spring, stays until fall. Whatever the case, the boys in red made me forget about things for a couple of hours.

That's something, right?