photo illustration by Samara Pearlstein
I’ll be honest. I don’t handle this time of year very well. Football is over (and let us speak no more than this of its odious ending), and Spring Training is juuuuuuuuuuust barely out of reach. It’s SOON, but it needs to be RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND. The windchill in Ann Arbor today is around -6, and I have to WALK A NOT-INCONSIDERABLE DISTANCE IN THIS WEATHER, several times a day, so I BLOODY WELL DESERVE TO HAVE BASEBALL ON TV TO MAKE UP FOR MY SUFFERINGS.
I think we can all agree on this, yes?
Pitchers and catchers reporting will at least mean news, and we’ll get to hear how Pudge’s dodgy trip to [entirely random South American country of your choosing; not Colombia, he already did that one!] went overtime, how all of Zumaya’s video game systems were thrown out the window one night by SOMEone *cough*Dombrowski*cough*, how Jeremy Bonderman learned a whole new facial expression over the winter (rumor has it that he can actually move his eyebrows now). That stuff is exciting, and a whole heck of a lot better than nothing at all.
But we have even LONGER to wait until Spring Training GAMES begin, and while those are also better than nothing, they are still only a small step up on the grand ladder of baseball-related goodness, somewhere just above a Kansas City Royals postgame press conference and just below a sunny mid-season Tigers batting practice. Also, the televising is spotty. And I’m more likely to be in classes/studios when these fledgling games are on. This, as I am again sure you can all agree, is a Darned Shame.
I am temporarily reduced to watching college basketball, trying to catch a glimpse of my brother behind the UConn bench (number of RotT brother sightings this game so far: 7. He’s onea them student managers for the team). I am not a fan of basketball, so this is very trying for me.
Ugh. This is truly a time of year when we can reflect on the many, many ways that professional baseball players have it so much better than the rest of us do. While the vast majority of us are stuck in frigid Midwestern states, working at whatever variety of drudgery we have chosen/had thrust upon us, these guys are REQUIRED to haul their pampered rear ends down to Lakeland, Florida, where it is probably overwhelmingly temperate of climate. There they will spend half their time (or less) working out and PLAYING BASEBALL, with the other half (more) probably spent on things like LOUNGING and WORKING ON TANS and DRINKING ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES and, in Pudge’s case, MAKING ADVANCES OF A CONFIDENTLY SEXUAL NATURE IN THE DIRECTION OF THE POOLBOY.
Le sigh. A life we can only envy.
If you will excuse me, I have to go get another blanket to add to my cocoon.