When I awoke this morning, the sun looked a little brighter, the sky a deeper shade of blue, the air seemed fresher, crisper, the birdsong a bit cheerier. I wasn’t thinking about covid or Trump or racial injustice or climate change. All seemed right with the world because today, pitchers and catchers reported to spring training camp.

As our long covid winter begins to wind down, major league ballplayers dust off their gear, bid farewell to their families and head down to Arizona or Texas or Florida to begin the annual rite known as spring training. Last season is a memory, the slate is wiped clean and for now every team is in first place. For one brief sun splashed moment, all things seem possible.

The start of the baseball season coincides with the beginning of spring and shares the associated themes of rebirth and renewal. A baseball season unfolds at a slower pace than the other major team sports. It begins amidst the promise of springtime, gradually giving way to the dog days of summer and culminating in the chilly air of autumn. When the first pitch of the season is thrown, spring flowers are reaching their shining faces towards the sun, trees are beginning to bud out. By the time the World Series champions mob each other atop the pitcher’s mound, the ground will be covered with frost and the colorful leaves of autumn.

In our brave new covid world, there are many unknowns surrounding the upcoming season. Barring unseen circumstances, games will begin on April 1. Sooner or later (hopefully sooner) actual fans will be allowed inside the ballparks, thankfully avoiding the sad spectacle of  seats filled with cardboard cutout humans. The air will be alive with the screams and cries, laughter and cussing of real fans, not prerecorded crowd noise piped in over the stadium’s PA system. The twin aromas of hot dogs and peanuts will waft through the air. Fourteen bucks for a beer? I will pay it, as long as I can sip that beer in a seat along the third base line with my friends on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. The starting lineups will be announced, the booming sound of the players names echo through the cavernous ballpark. The anthem will be sung, we’ll stand along with the players, caps over our hearts. The home plate umpire will shout two of the sweetest words ever uttered together in the English language; “Play ball!” I can hear it now, the snap of a brand new baseball hitting the catcher’s mitt, the crack of the bat, the mighty roar of the crowd as a majestic home run arcs into the left field bleachers. Spring is on the way and baseball is back!