Play ball
August is a slow-down time of summer. I think “dog days” is the perfect phrase for this portion of the year—the air gets dense the way the hours do, stretching into these long, sleepy afternoons, where the best course of action is to take a lie-down out back or enjoy a cup of iced tea, the condensate cool on the side of the glass. The way you feel these weeks always conjures to my mind some old hound dog lazing on a back porch (though sure, maybe the name influences the image, and not the other way around). The most important part of this season, for me—and really, so much of summer—is baseball.
For those of you who aren’t aware, I’m a baseball fanatic. I’ve been an Orioles fan since I moved to Maryland—I’ve seen the bad years (and boy, were they bad), and I’ve seen the good years, the Cal Ripken Jr. and Brady Anderson years, some of the best baseball you could watch. These last two years have been, I’d say, pretty darn good years for the Orioles. We’ve got Gunnar Henderson (and all due respect to Yankees fans, but he’s my MVP pick over Aaron Judge any day), Adley Rutschmann, Anthony Santander, Cedric Mullins, Corbin Burnes, Grayson Rodriguez—plus, the wild assortment of rookie talent that just never seems to quit. Colton Cowser, Jackson Holliday—what more could we ask of a team?
Excuse my rambling here. Players aside, I consider a trip to Camden Yards one of the finest experiences available to anyone around Baltimore in the summer. There’s nothing quite like the atmosphere of a ballpark: those big soft pretzels and ballpark fries with Old Bay and vinegar, the vantage point from the third tier railing where the game is so immediate, the cheering (and occasional booing) across the stands. I’ll happily say that many of our summer days have been spent at the park, enjoying the richness and energy of that particular atmosphere, watching the Orioles battle it out, to varying degrees of success. Even in lost games you’ll find something, some moment, some individual success, to root for. It’s always fun.
And after the game, of course, is the coming home. The evening games end well after dark, and the world, outside of the Camden traffic, gets a little quieter. People pull inside, dip the blinds, turn on the kitchen lights, cozy up for another warm summer night. There are a lot of lovely feelings, but one of the finest is returning to your own space, your own habitat, with the good exhaustion of a ball game behind you.
Whether you’re a baseball fan or not, there’s always something you’re coming home from—maybe a concert, or a movie, or a night out with friends and loved ones. Isn’t it nice, to kick off your shoes, throw on your pajamas, settle comfortably into a place of absolute ease? Home is always there, waiting patiently for your return. If there’s anything I want to do, it’s make sure that your home is exactly that kind of sanctuary, ready to open its arms again when you come back.
Are you looking to find that feeling in your space? Drop me a line—I’d love to help you find the best version of your home.
All said, there’s another game on tonight—the Nationals are coming to town, and it’s time to give them the Birdland reception. I’ll be tuning in from home, this time. For all of you, I hope you have a restful, rejuvenating August. Go O’s!