Softball is many things. Today, softball is a father and son.

A young boy clutches a bat, nearly his size, and runs onto the grass. His father, in the same hat as his son, follows shortly after with a ball.

On the grass, lying next to one another, are two gloves fit to size.

I don’t know how I can possibly make anyone understand why I saw so much beauty in that moment, or why my heart fluttered the way that it did. I’m not sure that I can explain why there was a sudden rush of tears to my eyes accompanied by a grin on my face. I don’t know why, when I see a young boy playing catch with his father, I melt.

Maybe it’s because whenever I see it, I know that one more kid is going to grow up to love the game as much as I do. Maybe it’s because I know that I’ll do the same thing with my son one day.

I don’t know.

All I know, is that softball is many things. Today, softball is a father and son.

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