A Shelter from the Rain I Don't Want to Forget
Yesterday, I watched the Hanshin Tigers lose the battle for first place from the third-base Alps seats at Koshien Stadium.
A 0-1 loss.
It's frustrating. Frustrating to death.
But, if we close this one-game gap, we'll be tied for first...! I felt a little relieved, thinking that I could finally let go of the tension of 'we have to win no matter what!' Even though I'm not a player.
It's exhausting for someone like me, who is fundamentally lacking in ambition, to hold onto feelings I'm not used to.
(But I haven't given up at all; I've developed a strange sense of defiance, thinking, 'I've got nothing to lose! Let's win all five remaining games!')
Both teams' pitchers were truly wonderful, and I was able to witness a tight game, unaffected by sloppy errors, under a clear, autumn-like sky, leaving me with a sense of satisfaction and refreshment.
Once again, I realized that while watching baseball, all I can really do is pray to something I don't quite understand and wish the players well from the bottom of my heart.
I think I come to the stadium because I love that desperate sense of helplessness, where I can give my all to the act of entrusting my feelings to others.
I am aware that for people who have no interest in baseball, I must be a real nuisance, but at this time of year (to put it mildly, but really from spring to autumn—no, all year round), the majority of my brain is occupied by baseball.
For the past few years, the Hanshin Tigers have been on the verge of winning the championship, or have actually won it, and with all the dramatic events that have followed, I've inadvertently ended up writing about my desperate feelings for baseball on Note as well.
In the middle of this season, I naturally remarked, 'The game difference between me and Yomiuri is 5.5...', which made my friend recoil, realizing that the boundary between the 'Tigers' and 'me' was finally becoming blurred.
I am truly a madman living out the lyrics of the Rokko Oroshi, 'My shining name is the Hanshin Tigers.'
*
Whether Hanshin loses or my emotions are in a mess, daily life goes on as usual. And Hanshin has a break until Friday's game.
With no baseball today, I had time to kill after dinner, so I went for a walk.
It's cool and pleasant.
As I walked toward the sea, it started to drizzle, and in no time, it turned into a full-blown rainstorm.
I had come out without an umbrella, so I had no choice but to take shelter under the eaves of a dry cleaner's.
I think I spent about 30 minutes like that.
I left the house with no particular errand, didn't really walk much, but the time spent just blankly watching the rain felt indescribably precious, and for some reason, I felt strongly that I never wanted to forget this moment.
I went home when the rain eased up and wrote about taking shelter in my paper diary, but I couldn't quite remember the kanji for 'eaves' (nokisaki). However, out of a strange stubbornness that relying on my smartphone would be a defeat, I wrote it in hiragana instead. (I remembered it later.)
Life is full of 0-1 losses, but you have to believe in a comeback championship, take shelter from the rain once in a while, and keep fighting until the end.
▼Hanshin and me in September 2023
▼Hanshin and me in October 2021