Grapefruits are better than cactuses

I've never looked so forward to a Monday in my life.

I suppose Monday isn't going to be so pleasant, what with the plane trip to Sarasota and all. I hate flying. I hate flying more than anything I've ever experienced. And I love baseball to that extreme, so I'm going from one to the other almost immediately.

Not having subscribed to MLB.TV and Gameday Audio yet, as I don't know if I'll be in Cincy for the season or not and don't want to waste money on it if the Reds games will be blacked out, I had to rely on telepathy to figure out how today's game went. I hate not being able to listen to the games. Some things that happened:

Scott Sauerbeck, a Miami grad, was awful, walking 4 and giving up two hits in 1 inning, which led to 3 runs, 2 of them earned. Fortunately for the Reds, we have a guy named Jay Bruce to start an eighth inning rally. Bruce led off the bottom of the 8th with a single. Freel followed with a walk, which, contrary to the rather loud and archaic opinion of one Dusty Baker, is just as good as a single. Reds ended up tying it up but Tom Shearn gave up a run in the ninth and took the loss, dropping the Reds to 1-2 in fruity league play.

Homer was a bit wild in the first but got out of it and pitched a perfect second.

Drew Anderson had two hits. Don't worry, his full name is not Andrew Anderson. Just Drew. He's number 83.

FROPPER WATCH: Hopper was 0-1 but had a sacrifice fly. Freel was 0-1 with a walk and a run scored. FUTURE HALL OF FAMER JAY BRUCE was 1-2 with a run scored. I guess it was an equal day for the centerfield competitors. GRAPEFRUIT LEAGUE TOTALS: FROPPER - 1-11 with 1 BB, 1 R, and 1 RBI. BRUCE - 4-7 with 1 R.

MAJEWSKI WATCH: Did not pitch, ERA still 162.00. But Scott Sauerbeck did his best Majewski impression.

TODAY'S QUESTION FOR DUSTY: Shouldn't Jay Bruce be starting so he can face the MLB pitchers and prove that he should be starting on our holy Opening Day?

Tomorrow the game's on the radio. My ears will be there.

And yes, I know the plural form of cactus is cacti. So what?

...and this one belongs to the Reds!

Reds defeat the Twinkies 6-1.

Who is this Lincoln fellow?

Even the most devout followers among us sometimes have to ask "Who the heck is that?" when we see the box scores or hear the name announced on the radio. Yesterday, I had to ask who Andy Green was. (He's a guy who killed the Pacific Coast League in 2005 but ended up getting sold to Japan last year.) Today I looked at the box and saw old Abe's name down at the bottom of the list of pitchers, so I looked him up. Turns out his name's not Abe, it's Mike. He last pitched anywhere in 2004 for the Deadbirds. He came up in 1999 as a starter for the Twinkies and found himself pitching in relief for the Sea Thiefs in 2001, where he posted a 2.68 ERA in 40.1 innings. In 2002 his ERA rose to a still respectable 3.11 ERA in 70.1 innings, but the bottom fell out after that. He had right elbow surgery in 2005.

Imagine being a kid, dreaming of pitching in the big leagues, working your butt off, starring in high school and getting drafted. Imagine the thrill of putting your ink on that first contract. Imagine working your way up through the minors, toiling on bumpy fields, riding beat up buses across endless acres of cornfields, talking to the guys who've been to The Show with a glimmer in your eyes. Think about the feeling you'd have when you finally put on a Major League uniform for the first time, stepping onto the greenest, softest grass you've ever had the pleasure of feeling. Finally, you get your chance to play, and you have some success at it.

Then your arm falls off.

I don't know who Mike Lincoln is. He may be a jerk for all I know. But there's always a soft spot in my hardened heart for people who have bad breaks like that. I hope someday he is able to pitch in the Majors again. Just not for the 2008 Reds.

FROPPER WATCH: Freel and Hopper went a combined 1-4 today (Freel got the hit). Bruce had his second hit today. That brings them to FROPPER 1-8 and BRUCE 2-4.

MAJEWSKI WATCH: Majewski did not pitch, ERA still 162.00.

Good news. I finally got my laptop back from the shop, though in a vastly different form. Gone is my Photoshop. Gone also is my corporate security with a lifetime of updates. But my music was saved, hallelujah. It's probably what crashed my system in the first place since it takes up about a fourth of my used disk space. But I blabber. My point is that I will be able to write my reports from Spring Training next week! Yay! And you better believe I'm going to rub it in when I'm sitting in 75 degrees while y'all are freezing your butts off beneath an avalanche of snow and ice! :)

Majewski still stinks, but...

it was awesome to hear live baseball today, the sound of Marty's voice, the announcement of players names, all of it over the old radio waves.

I woke up this morning to blindness from light bouncing off the snow and through my window thinking I just didn't want to face another winter day. Then I remembered the first Spring Training game would be broadcast and hopped right out of bed.

Some thoughts I had during the game (and yes, I know the first Spring Training game means absolutely nothing):

Start Jay Bruce. Start him on Opening Day, and IF he isn't ready, send him down later. But why on Earth would you NOT put your best team on the field? Forget about arbitration clocks. (Bruce had one of the team's two hits. Freel struck out twice and Hopper was 0-2, so it's Bruce 1-2 and Fropper 0-4.) We're trying to win THIS year. PUT THE BEST TEAM ON THE FIELD.

MAJEWSKI ERA WATCH: 162.00 I know, I know. It's the first Spring Training game. But this guy should have been working his butt off over the winter and if he didn't and that's why he was lit up, then he's in the wrong and if he did and still was lit up, well, give him a couple more chances in early spring and then just get rid of him.

Did I mention how exciting it was to listen to live baseball, to feel the game and spring deep in the soul, even as snow flurries float from the gray skies to the blankness that lays across the Ohio landscape?

Jeremy Affeldt. Five ground ball outs in two innings? Very good for GABP. If only he could do that all year. Nice to see some good pitching there, and he pitched against what was pretty much the Phillies' Opening Day lineup. I sure hope we get our three million dollars' worth.

BASEBALL!

Chris Dickerson. I haven't liked that guy since he (could have been someone posing as him, I guess) wrote a nasty comment on my blog when I said he'd never be more than a fourth outfielder. With Bruce and Stubbs, I don't see any future for him with the Reds, especially with a glaring deficiency in his game. I guess I'm just wondering why he's considered a prospect when he has such a fatal flaw.

Todd Coffey. This slimmer version of The Toad better prove me wrong, because right now I'm not feeling much love for the guy. Thing is, it seems to me he really works hard, so maybe he'll get it together. I'd like to see a bullpen of Cordero (9th), Burton (8th), Weathers (7th), Bray(7th) , Affeldt (6th and long), Fogg (6th and long), and Belisle (6th and long) with a rotation of Harang, Arroyo, Bailey, Cueto, and Voloquez. That, I know, won't happen (at least not this year), but us dreamers can dream loudly, can't we? And hey, if Coffey can finally start mixing pitches and make use of that good stuff he supposedly has, by all means, put him in the pen. Regardless, it's so nice to see that we have some options this year!

It's funny listening to Spring Training games when the game is winding down and you don't know which team is batting and which team is in the field because you don't recognize the names.

PUT THE BEST TEAM ON THE FIELD! BEST TEAM. BEST. JAY BRUCE.

WOOHOO, IT'S BASEBALL!

You know you're getting older when...

...you are packing for your first Spring Training and you go through your old baseball cards you collected as a kid to find ones for autographs of the coaches who are helping out the team.


(And you're just as excited about getting their autographs as you are about the current players.)

Sundae Helmets and Civil Suits

Right before my camera broke (followed immediately by my laptop), I took a bunch of pictures of baseball stuff I've been collecting over the years and was going to write some posts on it. I've been saving it all for a sports bar I want to open up someday (hopefully sooner rather than later) in Cincinnati (and then a branch in Dayton). The sports bar is not going to be your typical sports bar but a museum of sorts with at least one beer from each Major League city and as many Cincy beers as I can get. Christian Moerlein brews will be plentiful! I have the whole thing planned out hoping that one day I can get the capital to open it. I don't want to say any more for fear of someone stealing my ideas, but I'll just reiterate that it isn't your typical sports bar.

The stuff I picked up as a kid was mostly junk. How many of us can remember after a game going around Riverfront Stadium picking up the souvenir cups people left behind? I had so many cups but sadly don't have the ones from the eighties anymore. We'd go up and down the steep cement stairs and pick up those plastic cups with the sticky residue of Coca Cola stubborning clinging to the sides. Sometimes, we'd find a curiously full cup. Today when I see those full cups I think to myself - why did that person just waste a hundred million dollars or whatever the price is for a soda these days? (Tip - most parks will give a free soda to designated drivers. I don't know if you get the souvenir cup, though.)

We did the same thing with the sundae helmets, picking up chocolate covered, milky soup and standing in the bathroom line to wash them out. (Riverfront did not have the best facilities to handle the growing number of women who were attending ballgames, and the lines were always pretty long, at least they were in my memory.) One of the best parts about going to the ballpark as a kid were the sundae helmets. Riverfront used to have all of the National League helmets, so for a couple of years I tried to get at least one of every team. I succeeded until expansion birthed the Rockies and the Marlins, but by then I was in high school and felt I was too old for sundae helmets. It was all about the Lemon Chills then. I don't quite remember when other teams stopped being available, but in this day and age when it's difficult to win a kid's loyalty, I'm glad only Reds helmets are stuffed with ice cream and glopped with chocolate sauce.

I still have many, many souvenir cups, not only from Riverfront and GABP but also from other parks around the country, and I have dozens of sundae helmets of every team except the Devil Rays, Nationals (they didn't sell sundae helmets at RFK), and Marlins. But much of the stuff I've acquired in recent years is more sophisticated - nicely framed photos, posters, and artwork, limited edition statues, and a nice collection of hats and baseballs procured from the fourteen thirteen MLB parks (and the three four dead ones) I have traveled to since I've been older. (Guess RFK goes in the dead pile and I have a new park in DC to see!)

In no other sport is memorabilia as much a part of it as the players themselves. Have you ever touched a bat of Babe Ruth? There's a sort of magic to it - it feels more a part of a fairytale than a piece of tree. What about gripping a baseball with the autograph of Barry Larkin or Eric Davis or any of your childhood heroes? There's a certain energy there, a quaint nostalgic spark that lights up a smile and a warm recollection. And remember when your mom or dad bought you that mini wooden bat despite their fears you'd bash your brothers or sisters with it? Remember the excitement you had when you held that bat as you left the souvenir stand, a bat that was now your very own? Do you still have it now? I do. And when I see it, I recall how I felt when my mom acquiesced to my desire for that tiny piece of lumber.

In the last few years, I've also acquired some pieces for my collection that I am most proud of - my own photos. I've created something to display that no one else in the world has. I want to change that, though. I'd like to sell the photos, framed and signed in limited numbers. I wonder, could I do it?

There are so many questions about it, the most important being copyright laws. These days, corporations will sue an individual for anything, so you practically have to hire a lawyer just to breathe. I know you have to get permission to sell photos of players, so those photos are out of the question. (In fact, I think it's illegal to even post them on our blogs.) And I know anything that has a logo is illegal to sell. What I'm not sure about is photos like this one, where Cincinnati Reds is clearly visible on top of the dugout. I've printed and framed it and it looks pretty cool, something that I think others might find interesting if they saw it hanging at a show or something. But can I legally sell it?

Then there's the question of Great American Ballpark itself. The stadium is public domain, so that's no problem, but what about the Great American logo visible on the outside of the stadium?

Used to be that artists - and photographers have been accepted as artists in recent years - were allowed free reign over their subjects. Corporations have destroyed that. They rule our lives and tell us what we are allowed to do in a language only lawyers and patient people can decipher. All I want to do is make a little pocket money so I can go to more baseball games and perhaps pick up a few more pieces to display in my future sports bar, a dream I've had since I was about eight years old.

Ahh, those days of picking up souvenir cups and sundae helmets were so much simpler, weren't they?

Wednesday

I'm starting to get excited like a child on Christmas. Oooh...I can't wait to turn on the radio on Wednesday and hear Marty's voice!

Apparently Affeldt gets the start. Logical, considering he is battling for a spot in the rotation. I'm rooting for a rotation of Harang, Arroyo, Bailey, Cueto, and Voloquez, but I do realize it is farfetched for this early in the year. But hey, the future is bright!

My crisis of faith I was having last week has been assuaged. I am brimming with optimism, an optimism driven by my half-packed bags and the enthusiasm I am feeling for the glimpse of the 2008 season I get to see next week in one of 19 states I have never set foot in while traversing from sea to shining sea over my 31 years.

Two more baseballless days...

The Wearing of the Red

I rode to south Dayton today and passed many ballfields on the way down I-75. There is something inherently lonely about a snow covered ballfield.

I've been packing today. No, I'm not leaving for Sarasota until the third, but I need something to warm my spirit. I'm definitely wearing the "Jesus hates the Yankees" shirt my sister gave me for Christmas for the Yankees game on March 5. I have about five billion Reds shirts and can't decide which ones to bring for the other two or three games (the third depends on how much beach time we've had during the week). This season, I decided to break out the Nasty Boys shirt I haven't worn in 17 years, but that will be saved for later in the summer.

Those were the days, weren't they folks?

Nice to see a list of pitchers for Wednesday's first game! Can't wait to hear Marty's voice again!

A crisis in faith

More snow.

I'm not made for this. I was born on a beach in Oceanside, California. I saw my first Reds game at age one in Jack Murphy Stadium. I hate snow. I have no patience. I worry too much.

I worry about the Reds rotation. I worry about the bullpen. I worry that we'll keep three catchers, that Juan Castro will make the team, that the young guys will be benched for older, suckier veterans. I worry we'll trade for some hasbeen or neverwas "leadoff" hitter. I worry our homegrown talent - Homer Bailey and Johnny Cueto - will be traded and our twenty year drought of homegrown pitching will continue. I worry Jay Bruce won't get a fair shot at playing center. I worry that Toothpick's ego will cast long, blinding shadows over the field.

In both 2006 and 2007, I had high hopes for my team. In the former year, we were eliminated in the last weekend of the season, thanks to the offense shutting down after a quarter of it was traded away. Last year was a disaster, thanks to the bullpen. This year, though my optimism is still on the radar, I feel anxiety more than excitement. Guess the heart can only break so many times.

We love baseball because it is a game of rebirth. Every year when it's still light at 7pm and buds begin to appear on shivering trees, a new season begins. None of us, even those who are Devil Rays fans, doesn't think to himself, "This could be the year," even if we wouldn't say it aloud for fear of being mocked by others (who also secretly harbor the same feelings.)

I want to believe. But old schoolers control the question marks and dangle strange, frightening quotes in front of the Cincinnati media. It has to be tough for the members of the Reds front office with New Media breathing down their necks, when bored, office types are connected to the internet 24/7, when Average Joe and Jane have access to such a wealth of information that he and she know as much about the game as those who run it. But the oldies need to adjust or die out, just as they should in politics (if only people would stop electing the same failed political dinosaurs who continue to keep this broken system broken.) A lot of the quotes in the media from Dusty and Wayne and Daugherty and a few others seem to be coming from the history books. The dinosaurs died out because they couldn't adapt to change. Or a large meteorite crashed to Earth and destroyed them. Or they froze to death, which given today's weather is quite easy to imagine.

Give us a sign that it's not going to be more of the same old, same old. Remember when Jerry Morron pinch hit Juan Castro for Josh Hamilton? Toothpick said Jeff Keppinger would be third - yes, THIRD - on the depth chart behind Gonzalez and JUAN "HANDS OF LEAD AND BAT OF FOAM" CASTRO. Might as well let Fidel come to bat. He's not doing much these days, anyway.

Put the best team on the field, Reds. Forget that veteran stuff, that sitting young guys on the bench or burying them in the minors so you don't start their arbitration clocks garbage. Jay Bruce is better than Ryan Freel and Norris Hopper combined. Joey Votto is the future, not Scott Hatteberg. Homer Bailey, Johnny Cueto, Edinson Voloquez, and Matt Maloney are the future of a killer rotation, not Josh Fogg and Jeremy Affeldt. Juan Castro has no business being on a Major League roster, especially one that contains two super utility guys in Freel and Jeff Keppinger. And we sure as heck don't need three catchers. We tried that before and it failed miserably. Twice. Fool me once...

I'm tired of losing, tired of disappointment. I want to believe. But old school doesn't cut it in the new school world. You have to have a mix of both. Sure, the little things are important. You have to hit the cutoff man. You have to be able to judge fly balls. You have to get to third on a fly ball hit to right if you're standing on second base with less than two outs. But you can't ignore the numbers.

A glimmer of hope sparked a semi-smile on my face.

Manager Dusty Baker doesn’t necessarily think the Reds need to go slowly with Jay Bruce, even though Bruce is only 20 years old.

“Who says they need to be eased in, No. 1?” Baker said. “I wasn’t eased in. Junior (Griffey) wasn’t eased in. A whole bunch of guys weren’t eased in.

Ahh...a glimmer, a spot of light and warmth in the winter of my heart...perhaps the baseball gods have not abandoned me after all.

Is it March 3 yet? I envy those in Florida right now!

District of Warmer Than This

I've been thinking about the shorter, warmer winters of DC in the past, well, past since I've been in Ohio, which has been two months from yesterday. I've suffered the gray blankness, the white wetness, the flat, endless farmland that sends a feeling of nothingness to me, and I start to wonder if I should go back to DC. I've been thinking about the three Nationals seasons I spent, including last year's great season ticket package given to me for my 30th birthday, and I see all of the changes that Leatherpants has made and think, hmm, things are going to be different for the Nats this year. Not saying BETTER, just different. And with the new stadium, well, it won't feel like what I've come to know as Nationals baseball at all. Gone will be the drear, the chunks of stuff falling from the roof, the cheap seats that still have a good view, and the commute to the stadium in the middle of nowhere. The romantic side of me misses even that stuff dearly, even worse so as I stare out at the barren trees across a cold, white, empty field, and I think to myself, man, I need to move this computer away from the window...

Thanks to whoever quoted me in the Washington Post Express today and to Brendanukkah for pointing it out!
___

Josh Fogg?

It's only a million bucks. Could be worse. If Dusty didn't have the reputation for sitting young guys for veterans, I'd say it is a good signing. I, like many people, just worry this will inhibit guys like Bailey, Cueto, Maloney, and Voloquez from getting a fair shot.

We shall see...

Not this again

"Baker said it's possible the Reds could carry three catchers."

Uh, Wayne? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, uh, uh...

A thaw

In less than two weeks I'll be down in Sarasota. It won't be a minute too soon. Staring out at the cold, white nothingness makes baseball seem so far away. Check out the Enquirer's photos. The sight of shorts and t-shirts is mentally warming.

Hope Joe gets the Frick Award when they announce it at 2pm today.

Saturday is a holy day (and today is, too, for some)

Can you feel it? The memory of spring air is so strong now, the skin recalls the joy of it passing over bare arms under a gingerly warm sun. The sounds, oh the sounds once vague and lonely echoing through the chambers of the brain now lively and entertaining an intense symphony of wonder in your mind. Oh, and that color, the green of freshly mowed spring grass, the shiny new white uniforms with the red lettering, the blue sky screaming its lust for life...Saturday, a new Cincinnati Reds season is conceived. The season will be nourished by such sights and sounds as those haunting your winter memory. We will love the newborn season in Spring Training, the infant season in April, the childhood of May, the teenage years of June. We will still love the season during the twenties and thirties of July and the middle age of August. And yes, we will even love the season when it is wrinkled and gray in September, even if it has failed us and we find ourselves watching for its cold, gray October death for the 13th season in a row.

Such magic words are these: pitchers and catchers report. We feel a surge of excitement run through our bodies, lifting a bit of winter's burden from our shoulders and accelerating our want for warmth and light and the crack of the bat. A sense of opportunity comes to us, the kind of opportunity intrinsic to rebirth. Oh, friends, this could be the year. This. Could. Be. The. Year.

On paper, the Reds could be better. Yet what is paper but a mere piece of dead tree with some black toxin splashed upon it in the shapes of language symbols for the dull interpretation of the unimaginative and unemotional? What surprises youth can bring! What redemption, what marvels, what miracles! Hey, even the East coast $ports Network gives us a chance!

So, make ready your shorts and your sunscreen, for the time is approaching when the joy of a new year will be upon us! (And yes, I am already mostly packed for Grapefruit League Spring Training, despite a three week eternity standing between my family and the Sarasota sun!)

2008 Promotions

I was just handed a Reds pocket schedule at one of my favorite restaurants, which is remarkable considering it is in Sidney, Ohio and I am one of those "world travelers." The thrill to see the new season in print is amazing. But I am perplexed by a few things.:

1. Why is there a promotion during the Red Sox series (June 14)? Yes, I want the team flag, but isn't seeing the Red Sox enough of a promotion?

2. No way I'm going to a game with dogs (Sept 17). It's far time people in this country realize that dogs are not people. But I guess it's cool if there is a dog day. As long as there is a cat day. And a fish day. And a bird day. And an iguana day.

3. Build a Bear (Aug 10). My question is this...do kids actually get to build a bear, or are they given some stuffed doll with Build A Bear on a label somewhere?

Why am I so grumpy? I wanted to write something poetic about the upcoming baseball season, but my heart keeps staring at the crap on E$PN involving Roger Clemens and John Rocker (whom I actually agree with, for the only time in my life), and well, that part of the game sort of sucked my soul out of my thoughts this evening. I believe in the Church of Baseball. I'm sick of the parts about demons, though. Here are some things not so grumpy:

4. Brandon Phillips bobblehead day (May 17). I'll be there. He's the spark plug. Versus the team that gave him away.

5. Fleece Blanket day (April 19). I'll be there. I have a Nationals one and a Phillies one (which I got at a Reds game.) It's time to have one of my favorite team. And it's even in the right part of the season.

6. Joe Nuxhall Night (June 10). We miss ya, Joe.

7. 1980s Themed Bobblehead night (July 25). I better get a Larkin. It'd be cool with a number 15 on it.

8. Bronson Arroyo designed t-shirt night (Aug 9). Actually, I might not want one of these...

9. Baseball Card Day (Aug 31). I used to try to persuade my mom to take us to these games as a kid. Sometimes, I succeeded.

I also want one of those Harang growth charts (April 20). They had a Griffey growth chart - perhaps in 2000? - and my mom paid some kids $5 each to get three of them. Looks like we're gonna hafta do it again unless I can borrow some kids...

What other game do we get excited about two positions reporting to camp? None. None! Pitchers and catchers report at the end of the week. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Spring is coming! Be happy!

Check out the schedule for other promotions!

lens error, restart camera

lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera lens error, restart camera

I hope it can be fixed before I get to Spring Training...

Thanks, FSN Ohio

If you haven't been watching Reds Classic Rewind on Monday nights at 8pm, well, the season's almost here. They've shown great games of the past, and well, during these cold winter months, any baseball is welcome. Makes one long for that past glory.

Maybe this year...

Gotta love this

...who will be the surprise team of 2008? We don't know. Hello ... that's why it's called a surprise.

But, we've got our suspicions.

No. 1 on this hunch list are the Cincinnati Reds. It might be a bigger surprise if they don't ambush.

This is from MLB.com. We've also heard similar sentiments from E$PN and FOK$.

Belichick is an ass, but Congress is worse

When I watch football, which I do on occasion, if only because there isn't anything else to do and I'm desperately trying to fill that heart-shaped hole the baseball off season leaves me, I constantly compare the action on the gridiron to the beautiful game on the old green diamond. Baseball has its assholes, I know. But never have I seen such a disgusting display of unsportsmanlike conduct as what happened with one second on the clock during the Superbowl. The fact that Bill Belichick walked over to the refs and made the Giants go out on the field for one more play, denying them of their instant celebration that comes with a championship, is utterly despicable. And the cheater didn't bother to congratulate the Giants during the post game interview.

I hope the NFL nails him for his cheating and he never sets foot on a football field again.

BUT... Congress has no place investigating his cheating, just like it has no place investigating steroids in baseball, anti-trust exemptions be damned. Don't we have a war we're losing and an economy that's on the brink of collapsing into recession? Where are the priorities of this country? Sports mean nothing. NOTHING.

This is the Church of Baseball, and a fiery inferno awaits the members of Congress who are wasting our tax money on such pettiness.


(Oh, and HA HA, Boston fans. HA!)



(Is it March 31 yet?)


(Has real* Opening Day ever been held in March?)

*Real Opening Day - the day the Reds play their first game.
___

12 days

until pitchers and catchers report...

The first sign that the cold gray winter will actually come to an end.

I'm suddenly overcome by a sense of strangeness about the off season, one that has seen us get a manager and a closer and well, the rest I guess is just wait and see. Who will be roaming centerfield come March 31? Will Dusty let Votto get most of the playing time at first? Will Homer and Belisle emerge as adequate starters? Tune in over the next month for clues...