As the days tick closer to the official opening of the Cubs season - and the transition of this diary from a Life Without Baseball to a Chronicle of Pandemic Baseball - I find myself torn. In previous seasons I’ve noted that Opening Day is like Christmas to me. Three years ago I even went so far as to rewrite The Night Before Christmas as a baseball parody. This season still reminds me of Christmas, but mainly it reminds me of the two most painful Christmases I’ve ever experienced.
Sara’s Diary, Day 129 without baseball: Pandemic baseball and grief
