See You Later

A year ago tomorrow, my life changed in ways that I never anticipated. My first 22,936 days on this planet had not prepared me for the next 365. Don’t get me wrong. I completely understand that I have been so much luckier than so many others, but luck is relative. I live alone and I have always enjoyed that. But more than enough of anything can be too much. I have struggled with depression and anxiety as so many of you have. Mix in more than a little heretofore uncharacteristic anger and bitterness toward the callousness of those whose selfish self-interest trumped simple basic human decency and respect for humanity, and the result became toxic at times.

In survival mode, one has a tendency to dwell on getting through the here and now rather than on those things we’ve missed out on. But there were so many things that went by the wayside. My sweet friend Buca’s wedding, my great-niece’s high school graduation, a long-planned (and much needed) home renovation, a family trip to Vienna and Budapest, an entire summer of carefully planned minor league trips (hell, an entire minor league season!), the Olympic games (I watch the games like the obsessively demented crazy person that I am), and an EPIC 3-week+ late summer road trip that was going to take me through 12 states (!) with the highlight being Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks. I also missed saying goodbye to my lovely Aunt Elaine, the last of her generation, lost more to ignorance and negligence than to the virus.

It hasn’t been all bad, though. The weekly Zoom happy hours with my family have brought me closer to them, particularly my adult nieces who are all funny, caring, wonderful women (and all are fierce as hell!). I learned that meditation is legit. I reconnected with several friends who I hadn’t talked to in far too long. And I started research for a book on the draft that I’d been thinking about for several years since I suddenly had enough time to dive into what had before seemed like an unrealistically formidable process.

Looking forward to spending time indoors and unmasked with my sister over the holidays (after each of us strictly self-quarantined for two weeks) kept me going. The hugs alone were life-affirming. But then came the insurrection and I went into a very dark place. The worst moment for me over the last year came less than a month ago when, after 11 months of relative isolation, I lost cell service on top of losing power during a lethal winter storm. I couldn’t call anyone. I couldn’t text anyone. I’ve never felt so alone and isolated in my entire life and I hope to hell I never feel that way again.

The slow roll-out of the vaccine in Houston and the (in my opinion) terrible communication regarding signup didn’t help my mood. I was tracking how long it would take to vaccinate 80% of the adult population of Harris County as an approximation of herd immunity and, based on the rates from a month ago, it would take around 16 months (it has gotten much better, but Texas still lags all but 2 or 3 states). Intellectually, I knew that I would get the vaccine far sooner than that, but my anxiety levels soared with all the “what-if’s.” Friends and family suggested I seek out the vaccine in a different county or state, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. What could be more “white privilegey” than taking someone else’s spot in line just because I could?

But on February 24th, the fog finally lifted. An angel by the name of Erin who I have never met and who I only know from Twitter seemed to understand my angst regarding the vaccine and she made it her goal in life to make sure I got the shot. I woke up to an urgent DM from Erin about a supply from CVS that would be going fast. I texted the link to my sister first and then, hands literally shaking, I was able to sign up and got my confirmation. My sister’s signup was not as seamless. For whatever reason, she had to put in random zip codes until one finally took. But it did take and suddenly there really was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve thought a lot about my life and what is truly important to me. I keep coming back to something that a friend my age once said to me. Over an occasional lunch, we would often discuss our love of travel and any future plans. At one particular lunch, I asked where his next trip would be and he said that he was getting pickier about where he would go because as he put it, “At my age, I know that I only have so many trips left in me.”

That off-hand comment from six or seven years ago has made me look at things differently, from how many trips I have left in me to take to how many books I have left in me to read and other such things. I’ll be 64 in a couple of months. Realistically, based on family history, I have maybe 20 to 25 years left on this beautiful orb. It could be far less if things go sideways. And I just lost one of those years. It’s gone. I can’t get it back. And I didn’t check one single item off my bucket list during that year.

2021 is going to be about me. It’s going to be about my family. It’s going to be about hopping in the car and exploring new places or re-visiting old favorites. It’s going to be about reconnecting with old friends and making new ones. It’s going to be about getting long-delayed work on my house done. It’s going to be about reading purely for pleasure, taking photos for pleasure and watching baseball for pleasure.

What it’s not going to be is unnecessary stress. After a year of focusing on keeping myself alive and not killing anyone else, I’ve never felt a greater desire to be unencumbered. I will work on my book at my own pace and when I want to and not put arbitrary deadlines on myself. And, to address the elephant in the room, I won’t be writing regularly on the blog in 2021. I don’t know if I’ll write at all this year, but I suspect I will at some point. I just don’t want to feel like I have to.

So it’s time for this old bird to leave the nest while I still can. I may and probably will swoop in from time to time this season, but it will only be because I want to, not because I feel I need to. I hope that my co-conspirator Dustin will continue to contribute his excellent recaps, but that is and has always been totally up to him. He has been such a terrific partner over the years and I want him to do what makes him happy too.

I can’t wait to go to Corpus Christi and catch a few Hooks games with some of the wonderful friends I’ve made without spending 8+ hours at the ballpark for early work, batting practice and interviews and games. I won’t miss spending 5 or 6 hours back at the hotel going through my photos and uploading them or spending several days transcribing my interview notes before writing them up. This has been the most fun I’ve ever had in my life, but eliminating that admittedly self-imposed pressure for a little while sounds like heaven. I’ll see you guys in the stands in Corpus or Sugar Land or Houston or wherever else I find myself.

We will see what 2022 brings (and how the CBA negotiations go), but I will mostly be on hiatus in 2021. Consider this a “see you later” and not a “goodbye.” Stay safe, stay sane and start living life again as soon as you are able.

And one last thing to remind us all that change is the one thing in life that is certain ...

George Springer, Me, Rafy Valenzuela

August 2012 - Lancaster, CA

I'm going to miss you, George!