Life on a bus at 3 AM

Ahhh....the bus. A word that every minor leaguer knows all too well. Of the 140 games that we play each season, 70 of them are on the road. Normally a road trip lasts about a week, and you will play about 3-4 games in two different cities before returning home. Just in case you were wondering, that doesn't mean sleep in the hotel and then start the return trip the following morning....that would mean another nights cost with just under 20 rooms to pay for. No, we bring our bags from the hotel to the field the night of the last game, and following the game we shower and pack our baseball bags and then drive through the night. If you aren't used to sitting in a bus seat for a lengthy period of time, trust me, it never becomes something you look forward to. But over time, you get used to it and it almost becomes a sanctuary. Where else in life do you have hours upon hours to read, write, listen to music, hear sermons, and just think peacefully and not feel like you have to go get something else done? Some guys play cards, some sleep, others watch movies on their labtops, and the rest do whatever they know how to make the time pass faster. Every league is different but most trips average around 6-8 hours. After a game it takes a little while for the bus to settle down, especially after a win, but eventually around 1 or 2 AM most guys have fallen asleep. I have seen through numerous trips that I can sleep until about 3 AM and then my eyes open, wide awake. I can't really explain it, but I just have come to expect it. If I had to pin point some of my fondest memories of this whole experience it would be in the wee hours of the morning on a minor league bus. With the low growl of the bus traveling down the near empty highways setting the stage, I have written some of my best journal entries, read through countless books, spent time fervently praying and just simply staring out the window to let my mind wander in thought. Just so peaceful...except the time we drove from Casper, Wyoming to Idaho Falls, Idaho and our bus driver bet our manager that he could cut a whole hour off the trip. Cutting corners on mountain curves hitting tree limbs along the way, two wheel near spin outs on changing highways, and more left our entire bus wide-eyed and scared for the entire night. Oh...and he won the bet! A few adventurous encounters with tire blowouts have left our entire bus in the middle of nowhere waiting on a wrecker on the side of the highway. Imagine a team of guys outside the bus, sitting in the trees near the woods at 2 in the morning, almost the perfect beginning for a new horror film! Well, the stories are endless but the memories sure are sweet. Some might say the bus is the worst part of playing professionally, I just might disagree...