I sat and watched the smiles of kids glancing over at Mom and Dad for approval. The developing Babe Ruth would flash back a toothy grin and approach the mound, ready to take on the world. At the field-- the wins and loses are genuine. Encouragement is pivotal among teasing and rejection. Sitting quietly on a cold bleacher one can look around and see a parallel to the entire ecosphere of life. Helmets are too big for some, bats too short for others, but they're all playing on the same field. To say that they're playing under the same rules would be naive though because inevitably someone's the son or daughter of the umpire. There's injustice with bad calls and advocates as parents and coaches argue. It's the spirit that breaks me from my day dream and chronic attempts to complicate life. From the team huddle in from of the dugout to my right they're yelling, "Hit, Run, Score." Simple enough strategy. Clear, concise, realistic, measurable.
Maybe the reason professional fields lack the scent of dreams to me is because they're approach over complicated the world. Maybe the simple "Hit, Run, Score" approach to life is the onlythat allows room for the reality of dreams.