Tomorrow I’m going to my happy place. We’re headed to Omaha.
Who knew, nineteen years ago, that a chance trip to the College World Series would turn into one of my life’s most treasured traditions? That I would anticipate this summer journey like a kid looks forward to Christmas? The fans in their school colors, the locals and their welcome wagons. The tailgating, the Old Market, the teams — wide-eyed, seeing the stadium for the first time, like the characters in “Field of Dreams.” Is this heaven?
No booing, no trash talking, the fans all cheer for a player who hustles, no matter the team. The passion of the players, their youthful exhuberance, their effort and imperfection. It’s everything that’s right about sports.
Right here, on a sunny field, cornfields across the Missouri River, in middle America.