The winter of our discontent is over.
You know it’s time for baseball to start: the days have started getting longer, it’s beautiful outside (hey…it’s San Diego!), George Will has written the only column of the year that I’ll agree with (Albert Pujols…possibly one of the best ever), and Ken Griffey has a leg injury. Around our house, we love baseball. In her wallet, my wife carries around one picture of me…and a 1991 Fleer George Brett baseball card. In her last year of playing Pony League baseball, my daughter (bats left- throws left) could throw a fastball, a curve, and a circle change that she learned from watching Rick Sutcliffe on TV. It’s the only time of the year when we all watch Sportscenter together.
This year in San Diego gets even better with a new ballpark that is flat out gorgeous and a full season from possibly the most underrated player in baseball. I don’t know where the SD Padres are going to end up this year (the Dodgers seem to have a lock on last place this season), and in many ways, I don’t care. I’m just happy that there’s going to boxscores in the morning paper.
Can you tell that I’m excited?