Middletown - Here it was, noon on a Thursday, and I found myself outside a gin mill. Ah, but with good reason: The Yankees were playing. Opening Day tradition for the “Pinstripe Brethren,” as we call ourselves, a group of us gathering to watch the Yanks open the 162-game odyssey.

We meet centrally, this time at Sliders in Middletown, about a sacrifice fly away from where I grew up. I pull up maybe 10 minutes before the first pitch and hang a right into the parking lot. It was here I noticed the name of the business right next to Sliders on South Main Street:

“Change Inc.”

It was another one of those hit-you-between-the-eyes moments, which seem to be happening a lot lately.

Change Inc.

How fitting that the totality of the baseball season — beginning in spring, the time of renewal and ending six months later — provides a perfect backdrop for us to gauge where we are in our lives and where we’re going.

So … what is life like right now?

And how might it change in six months?

It’s as if the baseball season gives us these unwitting reference points. You don’t even have to be a baseball fan to appreciate its timeless rhythms and everyday fellowship. Imagine the irony, too, in how the timeless game actually gives us a momentary time frame to evaluate and examine.

So where are you now?

Happy? Fulfilled? Anxious? Guilty? Scared? Self-aware? Blissfully ignorant?

Only you know for sure.

But here in spring, the time of hope and renewal, seems a great time to ask: How many of us are indeed candidates for “Change Inc?”

I have an idea where I am here in spring. I can’t wait to see where I am by late autumn. I also know that whatever changes I make will be gradual, much like the baseball season’s progression.

I always knew sports had metaphorical richness. But lately, it feels as though they’re a deeper mirror into our existences than I ever knew.

Example: Last week, I’m watching the Tennessee-Iowa men’s basketball game in the NCAA Tournament. It’s a 20-point game early in the second half. Kinda boring. I’m about to change the channel when I hear color commentator Chris Webber say this:

“Iowa can’t get this back all at once. They need to stay patient and do the little things.”

Whoa. Perfect. Isn’t that such great advice for, you know, everything else, too?

You may be stuck in something that gives you feelings of hopelessness. Or anger. Or anxiety. Or guilt. But you’re not going to get it back all at once. Stay patient and do the little things. It may begin with something so innocent as a call to a friend admitting the problem.

I had no idea that pulling into the parking lot of a gin mill could be so educational. But I truly believe the universe put me in that spot at that time — opening day, a day of renewal — to see the words “Change Inc.” What a perfect time of year for self-awareness.

Turned into a fun afternoon. The Yankees had no trouble with the Triple-A Orioles. We told stories around our table, using the game almost as a backdrop to renew our friendships. I even had a hot dog, figuring that if I couldn’t be at the game, at least I could eat as though I was.

A few months ago, I wondered whether I’d ever watch baseball again. All the exit velo and launch angle drivel soured me. But then the season arrives again and the flat screens at Sliders were on mute, thus absolving us of enduring math class unfolding on the baseball diamond.

Then there's this: The season arrives again to remind us of nicer weather, hope and renewal and how life can be truly great if we only allow it to happen.

All our stories are temporary.

A parking lot proved as much for me on Thursday.

“Change Inc.”

Happy spring, everyone.

Happy baseball season.

And may we all emerge at season’s end with greater bouts of happiness and self-awareness.

This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro