Spring Training for all

We spend all winter waiting for spring training to start. We literally count down the days until a large moving truck departs Kenmore Square and makes the long trek down Route 95. The day pitchers and catchers report looms on the horizon as a beacon of hope and rebirth from Halloween to Valentine's Day.

And once they all arrive? We wait a little more.

Sure, now we get some AP wire pictures of guys in embarrassing spring training uniforms (the batting practice hats this season are an all-new eyesore) running around and laughing like a bunch of high school kids meeting back up after a long summer apart. Once a week, our favorite pitchers will fire off about 30 game tosses, mostly focusing on refining their mechanics instead of making outs. Position players take an at-bat or two and then hit the golf course.

Spring training is like a stuffed animal to an upset child. The kid yells and screams and complains for their toy, and once they have it they are content. We up north, having spent a cold winter huddled around the hot stove, are simply relieved to know that baseball is being played somewhere. We may not be able to see it, and the players may not be terribly concerned with the outcome, and players like Chris Smith may be the pitcher of record for the local nine (did you know Chris Smith was a member of the Boston Red Sox? Did he win a contest?), but those crimson hose are getting dirty someplace. And, in a month, the games will count, and the emotions of diehard fans will once again be manipulated on a daily basis by a group of grown men playing a children's game.

Until then, baseball will float under the radar. Pitchers will work on their location, batters will work on their pitch recognition, and bloggers will expand the range of their columns. For now, its not the results that are important - it is simply about getting the repetitions and knowing that baseball is only a cutoff throw away.