Finding Comfort in Baseball
Michele Catalano has found the grand old game to be a tonic before, and it's a special kind of comfort when the thing that's always been there for you in the past, once again is just the thing
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By Michele Catalano
When you’re bored and lonely, you try to find things to fill in the gaps that were left by love or loss or whatever put you in that place. Baseball has filled that gap for me before, and it was here again just when I needed it most.
I was admitted into the hospital a month ago for gallbladder issues, and I was there for a week. After that I was home — and I’m still here — unable to work or drive anywhere or do anything. The hours and days and weeks have bled into each other and I sometimes wake up not even knowing what day of the week it is. My boredom in this situation is compounded by loneliness; I’m recently divorced and still trying to find my way around the emptiness in the house. Sure, my family has stepped up and provided company and support, but the days and nights are long and I needed a spiritual nourishment that could only be provided by one thing: baseball.
It was there in the hospital while I sat uncomfortably in the bed, attached to an IV, nowhere to go. The hospital television thankfully provided both YES and SNY, and I was able to catch my beloved Yankees, and the Mets, and baseball was able to work its magic on me, transforming a depressing experience into something tolerable. The cadence of the game would lull me into a sense of security; I felt at home, at peace while I was watching. The games felt important, a life raft thrown to me, keeping me from drowning in my own despair. My roommate in the hospital was a Mets fan, and we good-naturedly razzed each other about our teams as we watched them play. It was a good respite from the mundane.
When I got home, I propped myself up on the couch and stayed there for weeks. I was in a lot of pain, I was uncomfortable, and I was unhappy. Again, baseball saved me. I had the Yankees and Mets and whatever was on the MLB channel, and ESPN on Sunday nights. Every night, I hunkered down on the couch, tossed back some Advil, and lost myself in the beauty of the greatest game.
Baseball has kept me company through some very long, lonely nights. Just the familiar noises of the game, the sound of Aaron Judge connecting with a fastball down the middle, the joyful idiocy that is the Mets’ broadcast, the cheers and boos of the crowd, they all have been a great comfort to me. Baseball has been a companion just when I needed one most. The sights and sounds fill my night, often soothing me enough that I have been able to fall asleep gently rather than fitfully. Sure, the recent play of the Yankees has me tossing and turning a bit, but the game is what it is; a balm, a comfort, a joy, a friend just when I needed one most.
I’m going back to work next week and hopefully I’ll be well enough to get out of the house and socialize again. But truth be told, I think I just want to stay home and watch baseball. It’s where I feel the best.