Ah, baseball. There's no other sport like it. None in the world. We wallow in the cold and darkness of winter for so long, and then, just a sip, a sip of what's to come, the warmth and light of spring, a meaningless game that means everything.
Oh boy, here we go.
I fight it all the time, the optimism, the inability to be pessimistic even in the face of the most dire of rational predictions. That's baseball. Every year, even though we know we may driving on retreads and bald tires, there's always that phrase in the back of our minds, that campaign slogan of hope, that thing that makes us come back year after year after year no matter what happens: Maybe this is the year.
And sometimes, well, it is.
Eric Davis recently stated that he thinks this team is like the 1990 team. I don't doubt him. I mean, come on. That team had no superstars, just a bunch of guys who clicked, who made it work, who came together and put an improbable run together that lasted all the way to the end. Of course, future Hall of Famer Barry Larkin was on that team. But he was only in his third full season, and let's face it, he wasn't our "favorite Reds player ever" back then. He was just starting out.
Oh man, I am so excited for this season to start. On paper, we don't measure up to other teams, do we? But this is baseball. You can eat your paper halfway through the season.
Shoot, so many ifs...but sometimes ifs just work, sometimes ifs become whens and dids.
Maybe this year...