Settling in

This morning, I’m watching squirrels play in the yard and listening to Dan Patrick on the radio. Roy Williams is coming up soon. That’s good.

College basketball calms me. It’s familiar. In this old-but-new town, I can watch it with fellow hoops-mad friends. That’s good.

Got cable installed yesterday. I only wanted Wi-Fi, but I caved under the pressure of the bundle. And now that I have ESPN, I can watch the rare rebroadcast of footage from the 1966 Texas Western/Kentucky national championship game tonight. That’s good.

The Roku is also at the ready for Opening Day(s) this weekend. That is also good. And I know that people I don’t see often anymore love me because of the MLB.TV subscription that will show me the Dodgers at the Padres on Monday. Good, good, good.

I go to bed and wake up with heaping helpings of uncertainty, so these things matter even more than they usually do. Sports center me. The idea may seem silly to some, but my remote or radio dial provides an immediate, readily available remedy when anxiety jangles my nerves and questions won’t stop poking my brain.

I don’t know what I’ll be doing in a year, but I know that on Saturday, I’ll be watching the Final Four with friends. I expect that this sweltering summer will be punctuated by the crack of bats and the excitement of a new baseball team. There is a possibility that this autumn could find me tailgating outside a stadium I last entered as a college student.

I had no real clue what the future held then, and I don’t now. Maybe we never do. And maybe that’s fine, too. We make plans and set goals and that’s good. But those plans take turns and goals change, and that can be good, too. Or at least necessary.

I’ve taken to listening to Gamecocks baseball games on the radio in the evenings. I don’t claim to be well-versed in the season or its stories. I usually start paying attention to college baseball when regionals begin. But I listen to the names of the players and their stats, following the action from my makeshift dining room table and texting faraway friends.

The rhythm of the game is soothing as night falls outside my windows and the voices in my head take a momentary breath. And that’s good.