Dear Seniors,
I won’t do it. I won’t sugarcoat this. I don’t say “good game” if it wasn’t a good game, and I will not say “it’s okay” now because this is not okay. It’s not fair. It’s not alright. You didn’t deserve this.
You should be getting homework done after practice, but instead you’re doing e-Learning work from home.
You should be playing under the lights on Friday, but instead you’re just remembering the last time you got to lace up your cleats.
Your coaches should be talking about practice plans and which jerseys to wear, but instead they’re lost. They don’t know how to do this either.
You should be worried about your friends and checking to see who is in the stands. Instead you’re worried about social distancing and checking to see how many new cases there are.
You should be keeping track of your team record and thinking ahead to playoffs. Instead, we only got a handful of games with almost no notice.
We should be loading up the car with jackets and chairs, but instead of enjoying our evenings at home, we can only think about where we were supposed to be.
You should be tracking in mud from your cleats, and getting your mom to wash baseball pants. But you’re not.
You should be thinking ahead to prom, senior night, and graduation, but instead you just have questions.
I am well aware that this global pandemic is terrible. It’s awful, and this whole situation is unfathomable. But it’s okay to be mad. It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to grieve what was and what should have been. Yes, at some point, there will be lessons, and I am sure at some point you will find a silver lining, but it’s okay if you’re not there yet. Your coaches aren’t there, yet. We are not there yet.
Our seniors, I can’t give you answers. When all of this is over, I can’t give you a senior night. I can’t tell you how this plays out. I can give you a baseball banquet, even if we have to hold it in our yard... but whatever it is, it won’t be enough. I can’t give you all that was taken away, or all that you deserve.
No, boys, you didn’t deserve this, and my heart breaks for each of you. But I also know that you will not be defined by this.
As defeating as this feels, this will not defeat you. You’ll show us all how to move forward with your leadership and your love for the game.
In this unprecedented time of uncertainty, that is the one thing of which I am sure. Even if you don’t step on that field again, your senior season matters.
The hours, days, and months you put into this program matter. Your brotherhood matters.
The relationships you’ve built with your teammates and coaches matter.
Your time as an Eagle is stitched into every facet of this program, and into all of those who will come after you.
This situation is not okay, but you will be. We believe you’ll lead us through it because we believe in you.
With that said, hold on. Hold on to the lessons you’ve learned. Hold on to the memories you’ve made. And hold on to the hope that we still have more memories to make as a baseball family.
Love,
Mrs. Jennifer