FungoVille
Now that Friday's snow has started to melt in earnest we here in Lotusland can start thinking seriously about spring.
Not spring training, mind you.
Because for that you would have to travel to Tuscon Arizona and have breakfast on the Colorado Rockies under the auspices of an anti-driving conspiracy.
Or some such thing.
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Of course, spring training is the place where everyone is hopeful.
And that includes rookies looking for their first big shot as well as grizzled veterans looking for one more shot at a big paycheque, especially if they happen to be a rubber-armed reliever who gets by on guile, craft and back door sliders.
But, of course, many of us of a certain stage still hold onto the slimmest of no longer slimfast hopes that we can still make it in some kinda league, big or small, somewhere, some day still to come.
Which is why, at least once a year as the grapefruit and cactus slices are sluiced into umbrella drinks in Florida and Arizona, I like to watch the following and keep on dreamin' on....
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Sub-header?....On one trip through the desert on our way to prove that there are no day games in Las Vegas my former editor and I stopped in the desert to hit fungoes into the sky...Or was that a night ride out of Oakland on the way to Stockton?...Either way, I'm almost certain I used the ghost of Alonzo Powell to take my cuts....Mr. Powell was one of my favourite career minor leaguers of all-times who later went on to a decent career in Japan before becoming a wee bit of a decidedly non-Charley Lauistic major league hitting coach who is now a hot commodity....
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2 comments:
Man, you can sure take a guy down some interesting paths. Ballparks, beaches, lakes, and campfires in one afternoon. You linked to Mr. Watts' uniquely-guided tour of Europe once before, and I plan to take it again, but on another afternoon. Travel can be exhausting for us geezers.
Thanks for it all.
Exhausting, indeed Lew.
Which is why it's good to occasionally send off your kids for the next round!
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