Spring is without a doubt in the top-2 seasons no matter how you butter the biscuit. How you know spring is here is a fairly subjective matter, though. I’m sure you’ve read one of the numerous poems about the flowers blossoming or birds chirping again. In the northern part of the country, we get to put the horrors of wearing a billion layers of clothes on to brace for the cold behind us. Going outside isn’t a necessity any more, but something people actually want to do.
But, I like to judge the coming season in a different way, and that is with sports. When your life revolves around sports, holidays tend to move around and get different dates and events. New Year’s for me is in November when the college basketball season begins again. Christmas is basically all of March Madness. The Fourth of July moves to the World Series because baseball is still and will always be America’s game. Thanksgiving stays on Thanksgiving because it is the best holiday in the world and changing it in any way would be a felony.
Additionally, certain sports dictate the start of each season. Don’t give me your summer and winter solstice bs. Don’t talk to me about the rain or daffodils or the heat. Spring begins this week thanks to two events in particular. For starters, baseball is back. Monday and Tuesday were baseball’s opening day. For one of the only times until the World Series (the Fourth of July), much of the sports world had eyes on the diamond. ESPN broadcasts baseball all day for basically 48 hours. Now, at the tail end of the week, The Masters dominates the weekend. Everyone turns to the links to watch the first major tournament of the year at the beautifully picturesque Augusta National.
These are the events that really signify spring. Opening Day is filled with excitement and beautiful nervous energy. After a long and tiresome winter of cramped, indoor sports, we get to sit outside again and feel the sun on our faces while we watch guys hit balls into orbit. Say what you want about baseball, but don’t even try to convince me that there are better places to watch sports than at a ball park. Every single one is unique like the flowers that usually mark the coming of spring.
The Masters is the most aesthetically pleasing event in sports. I dream of a world where everything looks like Augusta National. Of course we’re going to leave out all of the racism and misogyny, I’m just talking about all of the aesthetics. It’s really a good metaphor for life as a whole because as you stand on the 18th tee, I’m assuming the golfers are thinking, “how the literal fuck am I going to do this,” but then they can look around and go “damn, the world is a pretty beautiful place.” Maybe you hit that ball into the water on the absolutely brutal 12th hole, but once you finally make it to the green, take a second to admire the unbelievable beauty that surrounds it. Even if you look outside and it’s snowing because you’re in upstate New York (Jack right now), you can flip on the TV and remember that it’s not always going to be like that. Green is a color that happens a lot nature. The sun does still exist.
The point is, I don’t need a calendar, or a groundhog. I know spring is here because of sports.