I’ll be at work tonight, a few blocks away from where the St. Louis Cardinals will face the New York Mets in the official start of the 2007 season.
I had a Chicago Dog for lunch, it’s sunny outside, no chance of rain, gametime temperature of around 65 degrees. And, oh yeah, the Cardinals are World Champions.
Baseball is here.
We’ve got tickets for Friday night for the local California League team (Go, Quakes!). Dodger Stadium has gotten too pricey for us to see more than a couple of games a season. But at the Epicenter, we can get seats 5 rows behind home plate for $11, and they come with food/beverage service as well!
Here’s to baseball, and may all of your home teams triumph (unless they’re playing the Dodgers, of course. And the Padres. And maybe the Red Sox.) 
Go Cubs! Currently in First Place!
***I believe in the Church of Baseball. I’ve tried all the major religions, and most of the minor ones. I’ve worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I heard that, I gave Jesus a chance. But it just didn’t work out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer metaphysics to theology. You see, there’s no guilt in baseball, and it’s never boring… which makes it like sex. There’s never been a ballplayer slept with me who didn’t have the best year of his career. Making love is like hitting a baseball: you just gotta relax and concentrate. Besides, I’d never sleep with a player hitting under .250… not unless he had a lot of RBIs and was a great glove man up the middle. You see, there’s a certain amount of life wisdom I give these boys. I can expand their minds. Sometimes when I’ve got a ballplayer alone, I’ll just read Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman to him, and the guys are so sweet, they always stay and listen. 'Course, a guy’ll listen to anything if he thinks it’s foreplay. I make them feel confident, and they make me feel safe, and pretty. 'Course, what I give them lasts a lifetime; what they give me lasts 142 games. Sometimes it seems like a bad trade. But bad trades are part of baseball - now who can forget Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas, for God’s sake? It’s a long season and you gotta trust. I’ve tried 'em all, I really have, and the only church that truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the Church of Baseball. * **
Baseball should NOT debut on a Sunday. Period. End of story.
Ok, all I want to know is if and how this will affect my regularly scheduled tv shows
It won’t. It will be on ESPN.
What is that from? I love it. Is it Bull Durham? It sounds like Bull Durham, but I do not remember the speech.
I am taking my son to the Yankee vs. Baltimore game next Saturday. I am looking forward to it. We are fearful that Pavano will have the start, but oh well.
To me Yankee Stadium is the Cathedral of Baseball. Baseball is the one true religion and Babe Ruth was its prophet. 
Jim
1 hour and 35 minutes until life begins again.
It’s Annie’s voice-over from the start of Bull Durham.
The long, cold winter is over. It’s Spring.
Spring? It’s the start of the YEAR. Forget January 1. The year officially begins when BASEBALL begins!
Baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball baseball BASEBALL!
Woo, BASEBALL! The perfect, perfect sight of an baseball field, the chalk lines bright white etched against emerald green, the reddish brown warning track and fence promising foreworks and cheers for homers to come! The CRACK!! of a well hit fly ball, the suspense as the fiuelder chases it, will he catch it or won’t he? The elation at a brilliant play, the sudden shock/thrill of a stolen base. Hot dogs and beer, the Chinese vendor guy in section 119 yelling “Beer, Getcher Cold Beer!” The unmistakble scent of popcorn! Girls and guys on dates, kids runing the bases on Junior Jays Saturdays, ticket scalpers hawking their wares, ancient fans scribbing scoring notes into scorebooks. And most nights, the relaxing perfection of sitting on my couch, my baby girl falling asleep in the crook of my arm, while I tell her about all the legends and glories and stories of baseball years gone by. The endless promise of a new season and the possibility of miracles and comebacks and pennant races and championships!
Boy, do I love baseball.
Cool, thanks, I thought it sounded like Bull Durham.
RickJay, well and very exuberantly said!
My son even starts little league next week, woohoo!
I could never really get into the major but I’m still watching the Mets-Cardinals game. I love the DVR. Nothing like the video from ESPN on the dish and the audio from ESPN Radio through XM, getting it all synced up. It’s something I perfected during the playoffs as a way to watch the game without having to deal with Tim McCarver.
It is about time. Gentlemen, start your Rally Monkees.
It’s not as good as football, but considerably better than basketball. From now until fall, most of my evening/weekend Dope surfing will be accompanied by a ball game on TV. Even started a fantasy team on a whim yesterday. Joined a random league and used the ESPN rankings for the draft. Got a bunch of AL guys I know little about, but did get Chris Carpenter of the Cards who is starting tonight.
PLAY BALL!
Hooray!!!
This may well be the only time this year that you can truthfully make that statement.
Mets are doing good, everyone is hitting, even the much maligned Shawn Green.
Glavine looked sharp and Carpenter did not.
The Cards are now threatening.
CRUSHING Double Play.