Sunday, March 30, 2014

Rubber-Toeing Time

Today is not a National Holiday.  Not yet anyway.  Truth be told - having had a former MLB team owner in the White House for eight years with no discernible progress having been made on this particular point, it probably never will be.  Oh well, a boy can dream.  Unless perhaps that boy is an insomniac.  Under such circumstances, I would suppose that dreaming might come with a modicum of difficulty.  Ah, to be a narcoleptic and dream whenever and wherever you want. 

But I digress.

While the schedule is admittedly light, today is in fact Opening Day of the 2014 Major League Baseball season.  From this day forward until September's end - with the exception of the three-day break taken mid-July for the dreadful exercise that is the All-Star Game and the attendant nonsense that accompanies it - at least one big-league baseball game shall be played every day somewhere on the North American continent.  

I type today with fingers crossed in the hope that my beloved New York Rangers not only qualify for the NHL playoffs but last deep enough in them to give me something to actually compete with the Yankees for my attention during the early part of the latter's season.  I cannot fake giving a rat's ass about professional basketball.  If the NBA Finals were played in my backyard, I would close the drapes and shut off the back porch light.  I appreciate that it is a sport enjoyed by millions and I wish no ill towards either those who watch it or those who earn their living by playing it.  It simply is not a sport that I enjoy.  

Thus, all I shall need to be a contented sports fan for the next sixty days or so is for the Yankees to start strong and the Rangers to finish that very same way.  History has taught me that while I have a reasonable expectation of enjoying the former, the latter occurs with an infrequency that would cause Halley to blush. 

Hope remains. 

And why not. 

It is, after all, Opening Day.



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