An empty house
Three Batter Minimum

Three Batter Minimum: A New Home

I’m moving into a new house this week. It’s been a tiring experience, but a rewarding one. Emilie and I knew this day was coming and we have been looking forward to when it would finally come to pass. Most people probably share the majority of my thoughts when it comes to getting a house, or a new house. Me being me, my mind went someplace different as soon as I started bringing our stuff into the house.

When we did our final walkthrough the house was empty. It’s always an odd experience for me to be in an empty house. All of the character and life that occupants give to a house are missing. The shell is present, but it’s empty. There are no memories, anecdotes, or funny occurrences associated with an empty house. It’s up to us to create new memories and funny occurrences in the place we plan to call home for the rest of our lives. 

A few days after the walkthrough we started filling our new house with our old items. The house was now filling up with character, memories, and lots of humor. Only, now the humor hits a little different while the memories are of old homes and not our new abode. We are changing the house by virtue of what we are bringing into it. At the same time, the house is augmenting how we frame our memories. This is going to a very predictable place, life is often predictable.

Baseball operates in the same manner. Each season is new and empty. At least it’s that way when we first approach it. Before we bring all of our preexisting memories and baggage with us. Every team starts out every year with unlimited possibilities and honestly there’s very little way for us to know any differently. Except we do know, we know because of our memories of what has happened previously. And so what starts out wonderfully benign and full of hope quickly changes into something else the more of ourselves we pour into the endeavor.

Fandom is great, I honestly couldn’t imagine my life if I weren’t a baseball fan. All the memories I’ve made, the people I’ve met, the events I’ve been able to witness add up to an amazing experience. That doesn’t mean I don’t see that empty house and feel a pang of regret as it’s slowly morphed into something not quite different. Of course, I’ve moved half our house in at this point and still love the thing so what do I know.

Lead photo courtesy of Unknown – Unknown

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Bill Thompson
Father (human/feline/canine), husband, Paramedic, Socialist, writer Internet Baseball Writers Association of America and Off the Bench Baseball; freelance writer at various online and print publications. Member Internet Baseball Writers Association of America & Society for American Baseball Research.

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