Ah, Opening Day of Baseball Season. 
Why is that so exciting? 
For many of us, it’s in our blood. It connects us to our youthfulness. Every spring, we revive. We wake up to relive our dreams vicariously through the players who make the final roster of our favorite teams.
“America’s National Pastime” is, you guessed it, Baseball. Millions of Americans, especially males, spend hours on a summer day drinking beer in front of the fan while watching a sport without a clock- feeling the arousing excitement of youthful dreams. 
This brings me to the photo. This is my Atom League team. I loved baseball as a boy. We had a lot of neighborhood kids in Bloomingville, Ohio, where I grew up. [insert your favorite Mayberry episode] We didn’t have cell phones, but somehow, the word spread quickly when someone was organizing a pickup game in their backyard.
My dad was a leader type who, in his young dad days, did everything he knew to do to shape his five sons into strong, useful men. He was a scout leader and basketball coach at the high school, and because I liked baseball, he recruited me to commit my summers to a team with a regular schedule. He thought discipline would be good for me and keep me out of mischief. He was always the manager of my teams.
As I was dusting off the photo this morning and reminiscing, I noticed the body language. None of my friends seemed engaged.
I remember that day.
Me and my friends were getting amped up to play a game, but my mom wanted a photo while our uniforms were still clean. My dad’s job as manager was to corral us distracted, fidgety young boys long enough so my mom could take five minutes or longer to take the photo. [You had to be cautious when you only had 12 exposers for your film]
He’s the only one smiling 
