Actually I am a little more upbeat than that. My lower back is tighter than the sphincter on the parson’s wife, my ankle needs a rest after a trip downstairs, and we got the upper end of a late March storm last night. Carjo and I are supposed to go downtown this afternoon. There’s not a lot of snow but it doesn’t take much to impede my progress. So we’ll see how that goes.
Right now I’m propped up on the living room couch. I have my laptop in my lap, bad foot is up on the couch, good foot on the floor, I’m blasting Nektar on the living room stereo, and late this afternoon the Twins have their first regular season game. That’s enough to buoy my mood.
The Twins are 24th in payroll out of 30 teams in baseball. That’s getting by on the cheap. The Pohlad family made promises of glory and dominance once they got their taxpayer funded stadium. Instead they gutted the team and gave us three of the worst seasons in the team’s history. They’ve got some of the best prospects in baseball in the minor leagues but that isn’t going to change how bad they will be this year. But still I’ll watch.
There is an optimism to being a baseball fan in the spring, more so than any other professional sport. All fans get excited to see a new season begin but only baseball begins in the spring, when renewal is everywhere, when the promise of new beginnings is more beguiling, Bruce Thiesen, who comments here now and then, wrote this beguiling entry on the promise of this baseball season and tying it in to Robert Johnson to boot:
So put your feet up, open a beer, turn on the radio or TV. Baseball is back and somewhere the sun is shining on the boys of summer.