ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS

48. BURIED DREAM

★ Leonard ★

At the end of March, we go to the Yankee Stadium in the Bronx for the season opener. This is something I have been passionately waiting for since my birthday.

When I was small, our entire family used to see the Rangers play at least once a season. Beth always came along with us. She was a part of our family, and I was a part of theirs.

When Anjali and I walk into the stadium along with thousands of people, I experience a strange feeling, as if I am walking into a gigantic morgue.

The last time I walked into a baseball stadium was at Disch-Falk Field in Austin. I suddenly remember turning down my scholarship to play for the Longhorns. There, I gave up my dream to become a baseball player.

Being a major league player has been my dream since I was little. There was nothing I wanted to do more than be a pitcher for the Rangers. It feels like my dream is buried underneath this stadium.

We walk up the slope by following the crowds, and I see a hotdog stand along the way. I pick up two hotdogs and two glasses of beer for the night. It is Anjali's first experience watching a baseball game. She is very curious about everything she sees. When we finally arrive at the grandstand, she screams with disbelief.

"Wow! The baseball field is huge! And the seats are so steep! I am afraid of heights. Leo, please hold my hand!"

I hold her hand, and we slip past other attendees to get to our seats. People stand up to let us pass through. We finally get to our seats and squeeze ourselves in.

"It is amazing to see so many people in one place. Baseball isn't my cup of tea, but I kinda like this atmosphere. People are relaxed and talking to each other. They make some noises and laugh. I really like it."

"Sweetheart? Did you used to play ball when you were small?"

I hesitate to respond at first, but I realize that there is nothing to hide.

"Yeah! Where we grew up in the south, there are only a few things for a boy to do: play football or baseball or ride horses."

"I always loved baseball. In fact, I was quite good at it. Our high school won a few state championships, and the University of Texas recruited me, but I turned it down."

When I stop to sip my beer, Anjali asks.

"Wow! Is that right? Why did you turn it down? It seems that you could have made it to the major league."

I keep sipping my beer to buy some time. I slowly rest my beer in the plastic cupholder and continue.

"I had just lost my burning fire."

"When you play ball, you really have to have the desire to play. You need to have the will to succeed. Otherwise, you will never make it. I just lost it."

I am hoping that she won't ask me the reason why I lost my will. She luckily changes the subject.

"When my father was young back in India, his passion was playing cricket. You know it is like baseball but is more of a British thing."

"He was quite good at it and was selected to play for India against a British team. He was no longer a little boy from the slums of Bombay. His entire life was about to change. Then do you know what happened?"

I shake my head to find out more, and Anjali continues.

"He injured himself, and his dream was shattered. Do you know what he tells me still to this day?"

I stop drinking my beer and listen.

"He got scared of the pressure from everyone. Everyone expected him to succeed. He killed his own dream."

Anjali looks at me straight.

"I hope you didn't run away because you were scared of not making it."

Then she squeezes my hand tightly and rests her head on my shoulder.

I keep myself quiet while watching the ball game. While I am following the white ball in the field, I am thinking about what Anjali told me about her father. She doesn't know anything about what happened to Beth and me, but she is right about me running away from my problems.

Baseball was one of my favorite things to do in life. I ran away from it. It wasn't because I was afraid of not making it. It no longer made sense for me to pursue it without Beth near me. A big question arises in my mind.

What about now?

If I have Anjali near me, do I want to go back to play ball? I look at her beautiful profile and then at the pitcher on the mound. I naturally grip my left hand as if I am holding a baseball. I feel a small fire burning inside of my heart.

It is still small, but it is there. I realize my fire is back.