I’ll freely admit it. Last year, I just couldn’t get in to the whole baseball thing. I wanted to, like nothing else. But I just wasn’t feeling it, as in at all. I’m pretty sure the Jays weren’t either–mostly because, well, that’s the only thing I can think of to explain where and how we finished. I tried not to get overly enthusiastic about this season. Yes, in spite of the fact the off season brought in a minor explosion and a major offensive. But see here’s the thing. I sat through spring training. Not all of it, mind, but enough of it. I saw awesome. I saw wicked nifty. I even saw a couple very humanlike screw-ups. But largely, I saw a team that, on paper anyway, should do somewhat better than dead last in the american League east. Of course if I’m wrong I still have the Braves to fall back on, but I’m sort of hoping I’m not wrong. Because the last time I was anywhere near world series baseball and actually had a team I enjoyed cheering for, I was 10. You’ve got two guesses which team that was.
It’s opening night in toronto. It’s home run season. It’s ball time. I plan to be in the living room, plunked in front of the TV, with pizza and a coke–which may or may not contain something alcoholic. This is what hockey would be if hockey wasn’t nailed in the kneecaps by players who make way too much and want more and owners who have more money than brains and want to spend less. This is my sport. And after about 7:00 PM tonight, that’s about all I’ll be interested in. But don’t worry. It’ll all be back to normal at some point later. Until we do it all over again tomorrow. It might not look like summer right around now, but what the hell. Let’s play ball.