Opening Day (yay, baseball) is one of my most favorite days of the year—right behind Christmas (oooh, presents) and Thanksgiving (hmmm, food). The beginning of six months and 162 glorious games that will make me happy and sad and angry all in the span of nine innings.
The Boston sports scene gave me more subject matter than I knew what to do with. I honestly don't think I could've written about a better year. Even though I started writing a week earlier, it really all started with my very first trip to Opening Day at Fenway Park—a gorgeous, sunshiny Monday afternoon that concluded with a Red Sox win. That day was full of promise and possibility after what had happened the previous disastrous year. And it just steamrolled from there.
There was the Boston Marathon bombing that unsettled an entire city and enlisted the sports community to rally Boston Strong around the tragedy. The Aaron Hernandez arrest for murder and the Patriots' subsequent release of the talented yet brainless tight end. The Boston Bruins incredibly determined run to the Stanley Cup final and heartbreaking loss. Let's not forget the magical World Series Championship season put forth by those lovable, bearded Red Sox—a worst-to-first miracle. And then there was the Patriots making a postseason run even after Wes Welker's departure and a yet again injured Rob Gronkowski—leaving Tom Brady with virtually no targets.
What I loved most about writing every day was the freedom to include whatever I wanted. There were no real rules—just as long as the post was about some type of sport. I loved being able to write about a good deed done by a baseball player, or a killer play made by a tiny person, or a sport that I knew absolutely nothing about, like sailing. I also loved being able to pay tribute to my parents on their birthdays for their part in this obsession and posting videos that made me giggle.
I also wanted to thank everyone who loyally followed Balls of All Sizes and didn't get annoyed that I spammed your Facebook timeline every single day. I know it was quite a commitment and I completely understand if you missed a day here and there. Thanks to those non-sports fans that supported me by reading even when, at times, you had no freaking clue what the hell I was writing about. And, even though he'll never read this post, thanks to my extremely understanding husband who could've gotten really annoyed at the hour plus I spent on putting forth what I hope was a somewhat intelligent blog post every single day for the past year.
Balls of All Sizes isn't going away... it's just taking a little siesta. There will be occasional posts, probably once or twice a week, after a little well-deserved break. I'd be lying if I said some days weren't just a bit stressful. I suffered from writer's block and brain cramps and drunky writing and oops, I almost forgot days. And there was that one time I thought it was over because I was on my way to Fenway for a evening game and I hadn't written anything—thank you iPads with 3G!!
And just like that... game one of 2014 is in the books. Unfortunately, unlike their Opening Day win a year ago, the Sox lose to the O's 2-1, leaving 12 men on base and wasting a perfectly good outing by Jon Lester. I was hoping to maybe end this quest on a high note. I'm trying to be optimistic that this isn't indicative of the season to come, but I'm a Sox fan—glass half empty, remember?
Anyway... the party's over. Elvis has left the building. The fat lady has sung.
PS: Bonus points if you can tell me what movie the title of this post comes from!