I am not a meteorologist, but I know that one of the last big snowfalls of the season will coincide with the first day of spring sports season. It doesn’t matter how mild the winter, or how bare the fields were the week before — come the first scheduled day of practice, they will be snowy or wet. Unusable. This was particularly true during my son’s senior year of high school.

My son Quin had always been an avid baseball fan. Even as a young child, he’d set up full nine-inning games using monster trucks as players. As he announced the play-by-play from his bedroom floor, you’d swear someone else was there with him.

In the summertime, we’d call his pitch back our other child. Full games would take place with ghost runners, and our rat terrier playing outfield. My boy loved baseball. Evenings were spent on Bloomingdale’s fields, where it seemed like half the town gathered as the younger siblings played on the playground. Postseason Quin traveled with coaches Buddha Munn and Craig Amell to tournaments throughout the North Country. After seeing another team’s coach get engaged between games, Quin had a new goal: to get married on a pitcher’s mound.

This is why the senior season was going to be so special. Most of the team had played together since elementary school. Although they didn’t hang together socially, on the diamond they were family. Strengths, weaknesses, hothead moments — there were no secrets. But then reality, or more accurately, weather set in.

The first four games were played before the team was able to have a single practice outside. That’s one-quarter of the season. No matter how many drills a team does in a gym, it’s just not the same. And when your competition has had the weather and facilities to practice, the results aren’t pretty. It’s a deficit that physically and emotionally is tremendously hard to overcome.

Talk to the softball girls, the boys’ and girls’ lacrosse teams, and even girls’ flag football — they will tell you similar stories. While spring sports may be their favorites, their competition has a tremendous advantage because they can practice much earlier on updated fields. On the flip side, fall sports practices run into daylight issues at the end of their seasons — right when playoffs begin. Artificial turf and lights would benefit them all.

I’ve worn many hats while I’ve worked for the school district. I’ve seen students remain in school only for sports, and lonely kids find their people either on a team or in the stands. In addition, my brief stint as event staff enlightened me about outsider’s perspectives.

The most hurtful comment? An opposing team disembarking from a bus, looking around, and announcing, “Oh right, we’re playing at the ghetto school.”

The question for which I had no answer and felt terrible about? “Why isn’t there any seating so my elderly parents can actually see the track meet?”

The observation that made me smile with pride after I had asked some overly enthusiastic students to settle down? “Oh, the boys are fine. What we love about Saranac Lake is that your student section is so strong. We love how they even come out to girls’ games. Our school doesn’t do that.” We are fortunate; our students are great.

We are also lucky to live in a fiscally responsible school district. Just like a family might save money earmarked for college, Christmas presents, home repairs, or vacation, our district has money put aside for capital improvements. That is why most of this project has no out-of-pocket cost for the taxpayer. Nor does this drain the capital account, so funds will be there if future projects become necessary. Even the contribution to the cost of the bleachers is quite small; for most of us, it is less than the cost of ordering a pizza and wings.

Adding turf, lights and bleachers isn’t the equivalent of Highmark Stadium. This won’t be a sacred game field that only benefits a few. Rather, it is an opportunity that will serve the nearly 50% of high schoolers who participate in sports while also impacting the community.

I thought we’d teach our oldest to ride her bike on the rail trail. She’s 26 now, so obviously that didn’t happen. But Bill and I use that trail almost daily, far more and differently than I imagined. My kids never had the chance to play hockey in the new rink, but I skated there all winter. And, while this capital project will not help my biological children, my neighbor’s kids, grandnieces and grandnephews all will benefit.

As for us, as I often point out to Bill — there is no cheaper form of socialization and entertainment than attending a high school competition. As an emerging empty nester, I look forward to it. I hope to see you sitting next to me in the stands.