It has been a busy week here at the Star Eagle. We ran around following school buses and caravans of cars as teachers and staff at NRHEG delivered signs and gifts to 2020 seniors.
It was kind of an odd day, Monday, during the deliveries. I remember one member of the fire department, as they were also a part of the event, saying that this was fun and felt kind of special. I’m not entirely sure how I feel. My dad mentioned that this took place to help try and give something back to the seniors and their families who are missing out on so much that other classes of students have all gotten to experience.
I just finished writing a story about the impact of the loss of spring sports this year. It wasn’t hard to write. I tried to remember what it felt like when my season ended. My last baseball season. I remember writing about this on more than one occasion, but it’s still hard. I still miss it. It’s times like these that I remember what one of my coaches said that day: “Remember this feeling. If this is the worst day of your life, imagine what a great life you must have.”
I didn’t think there was much that could be said in that moment that would make me feel any better. But for that moment, I was at least able to catch my breath. I remember crying the entire way home. My dad didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t anything to say. No words. That’s kind of how I feel about this current situation.
I can’t speak for anyone else, only myself. Personally, there’s no baseball for me to participate in since I graduated. I’ve done whatever I can to be involved with baseball. I can’t play anymore, but that didn’t stop me from coaching and umpiring whenever and wherever possible. I’m not going to get to do that this year. I don’t even know if there will be any professional baseball to watch to try and relieve my baseball itch. That said, it doesn’t compare to what others are going through.
I remember thinking when my dad was trying to console me on the drive home from my final baseball game: “You never had a final game. You don’t know what this is like.” Whether I was wrong or right, it didn’t make me feel any better. My dad was fortunate and ran track in college. He was part of the special few that went to “the next level.”
I remember Jacob Tasker referencing “the next level,” a few weeks ago when he wrote for the Panther Press. I played baseball with Tasker. He was a freshman when I was a senior. He was good. Really good. Not only that, but he was a great teammate, a model ballplayer. You don’t get many of those. I’m not sure the point I’m trying to make, other than that the impact of this lost season will be felt by the family and friends of all those athletes.