A Letter | To the people who always end up behind me at baseball games
Dear people behind us,
We can hear you.
It's just a game. Games are played all the time without you there to comment. So you can keep your opinions to yourself please, or at least leave out the foul language.
There's a little girl within hearing range, and she doesn't know what's going on. You're certain she's heard those words before, but not everyone was raised like you were. Let her keep her innocent mind as long as she can.
You're entitled to your opinions, but please be respectful of others. You're taking your anger out on him, and he didn't do anything to deserve it. So I will cheer for him. I will protect him, at least in my mind. And if someone stands up to you, I'll be with them in spirit.
I know you've had a hard life. I see it in your eyes. I see it in your set mouth and your crossed arms. You're trying to unwind, but life is chasing you to the ballgame with phone calls from your child who is at his dad's house for the weekend.
I understand you're hurting. And you're being loud and obnoxious because of it. You think it's fun, but let me tell you that no one else thinks it is. I guarantee no one is cracking a smile because you opened your mouth. No one is wishing they were as into the game as you are. They just think you look foolish. You're affecting everyone around you, and it's getting awkward.
You might be the one who made tears run down my face.
So I'll give you a smile and a kind word at the beginning of the game. I'll pardon you in the middle of the game. And I'll sigh with relief at the end of the game.
This is my word to you. Take it and run with it. Or reject it.
I'm not hating. I'm learning. And I'm writing. And I'm trying to teach you not to hate.
At the end of the day, it's just a game.
P.S. Maybe try the hot dog stand instead next time.