Today should be a holiday.
At the very least it should be one of those fake holiday's like "secretaries day" or "Moustache" day" that they have in the US where the calendar list it as a holiday but nobody gets time off.
Today marks the point where we are 30 day from the beginning of Baseball spring training.
I need some hotdogs. And some peanuts. And maybe some lukewarm watery beer! Lousy ballpark nachos would be welcome about now. Crackerjacks, oh my God, crackerjacks!
It is time to celebrate. Ball-night, bat-night, cap-night, jersey-night, refrigerator magnets and all the assorted major league swag are on their way.
It is time to remember watching Charlie Hough throw his knuckleball. It is time to remember Billy Martin. It is time to think that maybe even the Tigers, Cubs or the Rangers could win the World Series.
I can almost hear Eric Nadel right now. I can remember Dick Rizzenhover with his tremendous homerun call; Mark Holtz and how he sounded like the guy next door. I'd even settle for those homers that call the Yankee games
I remember Jose Canseco having a flyball hit him in the head. I remember Willie Horton punching George Brett in the jaw during a brawl down the third-base line. I remember listening to Kenny Rogers throw a perfect game. I remember two of Nolan Ryan's no-hitters.
There's nothing better than base-ball on the radio. It starts in a month.
Oh boy, this is a good day.
Until Next Time
The always wanted to be able to throw a knuckle-ball in the major leagues blogger