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But let me tell you: I was transplanted in fertile ground. It actually wasnвЂ™t an end, it was a beginning-of what I did not know. вЂњRelax,вЂќ she said, вЂњItвЂ™s summer.вЂќ I toasted her with a Santa Fe brew. Standing on line at the beer cart, the kids went off running and I quickly caught up my friend on my break-up news. He opted to pay for my ticket, so I returned the gesture by getting him a beer. I was about to do thatвЂ“вЂ“and say hello to the announcerвЂ“вЂ“but I ran into one of my good girlfriends with her husband and children. On your honor, you went to the announcerвЂ™s booth and stuffed five dollars in a hat. Now the Taos high school ballfield had a much more mellow vibe. I used to love the way the Bronx ticket guys yelled at us at the gate: вЂњGet your asses inside, the gameвЂ™s started!вЂќ I was born and raised in New Jersey and grew up a Yankees fan.

But Taos is a sprawling, rural county with just 30,000 people who call it home. Bigger cities had teams, like nearby Santa Fe and Colorado Springs.

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Hardly anything new comes to Taos, let alone a professional baseball team. He cleared up my confusion, explaining, вЂњItвЂ™s a newly formed pro team, part of an independent league. The newspaperвЂ™s sportswriter leaped out in front of me to snap a long lens shot of the field. I vaguely recognized the announcer from another trivia team at the pub.

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The parking lot was full but who was this Blizzard team and why had so many people turned out? I propped my bike up against the six-level metal bleachers and picked my way through a line of kids and dogs playing chase. I swung my bike in that direction and as I got closer, the announcerвЂ™s voice boomed clear over the loudspeaker: вЂњBatter up for Taos Blizzard.вЂќ on a Sunday during summer recess thereвЂ™s no way the Taos Tigers would be playing. I was looking down at the asphalt when the lights of the high school ballfield caught my attention. My relationship had come to an end just as a bright summer began. One early June evening, I hopped on my bike to pedal around the neighborhood and let my sadness flow. The whipping wind causes my eyes to tear, so itвЂ™s hard to tell that I am actually crying.

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