At last, it's time to play ball!

J's World, by Jeremiah Bartz

Thursday night was opening day down at the ole' ballpark, as the Valley's favorite summer league ballclub hit Hermon Brothers Field, starting another summer of Mat-Su Miner baseball.

There was something special, a sense of excitement, at the yard Thursday night. Something that gave you goose bumps and all that jazz. There was something in the air, it seemed, something aside from that usual combination of glacial silt and diesel exhaust. Baseball was in the air.

Baseballs were literally in the air, too. I almost got hit by one, but that is beside the point.

Opening Day is always a significant thing, whether it is at Wrigley Field in Chicago or Hermon Brothers Field in Palmer, Alaska.

It marks the opening of that sanctuary for baseball fans.

The opening of the gates at the ballpark is like the opening of the pearly gates themselves. The lady at the ticket booth is much like St. Peter, allowing you to enter a true heaven.

If heaven is anything like the baseball field, anyone with a one-way ticket to the big ballpark in the sky is in for an eternity of entertainment.

The ballpark is one of Earth's versions of heaven. It is were you see singles legged into doubles, dying quails, ground balls with eyes, curveballs with more movement than a herd of nomads and fastballs faster than an Iraqi soldier can wave a white flag. It's where you can forget all your fears, such as monkeypox and premature balding.

It's where you can live vicariously through those who still have athletic ability. It's where you can see a game for less than the cost of a triple foam grand/ latte.

It's "Field of Dreams" without all the corn. It's where the hot dogs give you heartburn and the bleachers make your butt sore.

There is no place like the ballpark.

Jeremiah Bartz (sports@frontiersman.com) is the Frontiersman sports editor.