There’ll be catching and hitting, tobacco for spitting, and if you’re in Minnesota you can go caroling out in the snow. There’ll be hot dogs and ice cream, players now with a new team, and if Joe Buck was ever tolerable it must’ve been long, long ago. Spring training is here.
It is indeed the most wonderful time of the year.
Ah yes, baseball is almost officially here. I can practically hear the sound of a ball making contact with a bat and the roar of the crowd – it’s rather pleasant and pairs well with a middle-aged male vendor’s shout of “cotton candy!” Although, I do have to say the best part about the players reporting for spring training is waiting to hear all of the bizarre injuries. I’m not sure anything could top Hunter Pence walking through a closed sliding glass door, but I’ll just wait and see.
And before we know it, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” will ring out from sea to shining sea on Opening Day. And soon enough, after we’ve endured enough rain delays, extra innings, walk-off homers, six minute challenged reviews, ejections, overpriced ballpark food, favorites on the 60-day DL, an all-star break and hearing the name “Tommy John,” baseball will take its annual leave and we’ll be left as we usually are: staring out the window through the winter months, counting down the days to spring training, waiting impatiently like a child on Christmas morning.