I only have 20.5 hours until I set foot in a Major League ballpark to watch Major League players play a Major League game. Exhibition, of course, but it's a game. After what seemed like an eternal wait, the season has suddenly arrived. We've had fun with predictions this spring - or we've argued about them. We've had hope that our team will do well this year - or we've had no hope. But what we really want to do is to hand our ticket over to the ticket people, smell the hotdogs, hear the buzz of the stadium and feel the excitement as even grown men seem ready to jump up and down because they get to go to a ballgame. I am envisioning right at this second that moment when the green first bursts forth from the field and hits your eyes, that moment when you know that winter is truly over and that baseball has sprung back into your life. Oh, sweet, sweet dreams to come true in 20.5 hours.
Commentary on baseball and society, baseball and philosophy, baseball and history, and baseball and baseball.
Friday, March 30, 2007
11 o'clock, tick, tock
I only have 20.5 hours until I set foot in a Major League ballpark to watch Major League players play a Major League game. Exhibition, of course, but it's a game. After what seemed like an eternal wait, the season has suddenly arrived. We've had fun with predictions this spring - or we've argued about them. We've had hope that our team will do well this year - or we've had no hope. But what we really want to do is to hand our ticket over to the ticket people, smell the hotdogs, hear the buzz of the stadium and feel the excitement as even grown men seem ready to jump up and down because they get to go to a ballgame. I am envisioning right at this second that moment when the green first bursts forth from the field and hits your eyes, that moment when you know that winter is truly over and that baseball has sprung back into your life. Oh, sweet, sweet dreams to come true in 20.5 hours.
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