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For generation after generation after generation Opening Day is the day when kids young and old across our great nation can have hope that perhaps this year may be the year.

Opening Day, the day when much like Christmas Eve, those who grew up loving America’s pastime look forward but also reflect back.

For over 125 years children and their parents have watched men play the game of children; trying to hit a ball and run 90 feet four times around a diamond to score a run. Baseball a game of skill and strategy, but also a game of tradition and history. Baseball a game of innocence and childhood bonding but also a business of global proportions.

For the last 100 years families and friends have bonded listening to the sounds of the ballpark being broadcast over the airwaves. The sounds of the bat hitting the ball, the chatter of the game, the sounds emanating from the stands.

Opening day, a day of anticipation and hope. Anticipation of the warmer months of spring and summer as the long season is played out night by night, anticipation of throwing the ball in the front yard or down at the ball field, anticipation of what players’ cards lie wrapped underneath the foil of the pack of trading cards.

Much like the ghosts of Christmases past, the players who once played the game still shadow the game today. Memories of being a young child reading the box scores with your parent, grandparent or older sibling, memories of coming home exhausted after playing hours of a pick-up game, memories of listening to the announcer describe in almost story book detail the happenings on the ball field on the other side of the radio.

The complications of life has evolved over the years. Technology has stolen away free time, equipment and training have made today’s athlete more skilled and focused than ever before, but baseball remains a constant. 9 players a side, 3 outs and the ball thrown 60 ft. 6 inches has to be hit.

Opening day … the day to have hope in your team the same way your grandfather’s grandfather did 120 years ago.


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