An Exchange of Words: David B. Coe’s Weblog

Pitchers and catchers report tomorrow, which, for those of you unfamiliar with baseball terminology, means that spring training is about to begin.  This is usually a time of rejoicing for me; an end to a long, lonely winter of sports about which I don’t really care.  Football, basketball, hockey — usually they’re just games to read about when there are no boxscores, a way of marking time until baseball awakes from its winter hibernation.

This year was a bit different, in part because of the Giants’ unexpected success (I’m still in shock) and in part because it was such an ugly offseason for baseball.  All steroids all the time.  I feel like I’m holding my breath, waiting to see how the sport will disgrace itself next, wondering how much more of this I can take.

But spring training is a time of possibility.  The trades have been made, the ink is dry on newly signed contracts, rookies are gearing up for the exhibition season, hoping to make that magical leap from unknown to phenom.  The Mets managed to sign the best pitcher in baseball, Johan Santana.  The Yankees managed to re-sign the best everyday player in the game, A-Rod.  And the Red Sox, for the second time in the last four years, begin the season as defending world champions.  Wouldn’t it be great if the baseball world found a way to get their collective s#%t together and put together a great season?  A few pennant races in the variouis divisions, close competitions for individual honors, maybe a no-hitter or two.  It wouldn’t take much.  Those of us who love the game are looking for reasons to care about it again.  

A new season.  Hope springs eternal.

Giants 17, Pats 14.  Unbelievable.

I’m not fool enough to think my Giants actually have a chance today, but I do plan to enjoy the game anyway.  Friends are coming over.  I’m making a big pot of chili (and so is one of said friends – we’re having our own little Chili Super Bowl), we have chips and pretzels and beer, maybe we’ll have a fire going in the family room.  This is our one chance each year to be Typical Americans, and we plan to enjoy it.   I mean, Tom Petty’s doing half time — how much should it matter if the Giants get blown out, right?

Right.  But it sure would be sweet if they actually won….

Today’s music:  Sister Hazel (...Somewhere More Familiar)

Thought about posting what my Aussie friends would call a little whinge.  We had another snow day today, though we didn’t get even a single flake of snow.  All based on a forecast that proved wrong.  And I’m dealing with stupid household stuff (malfunctioning refrigerator, plumbing issues, etc.) 

But you know what?  I’m not going to whine.  The New York Giants are going to the Super Bowl.  I’ve been a Giants fan since I was about seven years old, and just about every year (except 1986 and 1990) they’ve managed to break my heart, sometimes in creative and excruciating ways. (Though not as creative or excruciating as last year’s Mets meltdown.  But I don’t want to go there….)  Not this year, though.  I didn’t quite believe it at first.  I even waited a day to post about it, in case their win on Sunday was under an official’s review or had been nullified by a penalty.  But, no.  They really won.  I don’t know quite how they did it, but it’s not my place to ask questions.  I’m just going to enjoy the ride.

Today’s music:  Oscar Peterson Trio with Milt Jackson (Very Tall)