Baseball In January? I must be loco.
Here it is January 2. What am I thinking about? Baseball, and specifically my glove.
Hey, I used to do that when I was a kid. That's one habit I cannot seem to break.
I have not tried very hard to snap that habit.
I can see my glove in my minds eye in the garage on top of a heap of my daughter's softball gear. Her glove, her batting gloves, and some softballs are all in the milk crate in my garage.
I remember as a kid I would always find time to think baseball in January. I would find my glove to make sure that it still has the fit I liked. Hey I had not played in three months. Maybe the glove some how got disfigured by the by by well whatever. I had to do some oiling of my glove. Hey I had to take care of the mitt. I had to get back into the swing of things. And the swing of things meant baseball.
I had to go and find my bat. Did it still feel right to me? I think I will take a few practice swings. Nice and easy. As I checked out my wrists I started getting a warm glow. How many days 'till the season starts? I can't wait.
Now it was time to pick up the baseball. Get that grip in my hand. Get the feel. I would take a few slow motion tosses without throwing the ball. Just limbering up the arm a bit. This is when I used to think I was a pitcher and make believe I was throwing one to Yogi or Elston Howard. This felt great. I would never throw the ball. I was inside the house.
Except for this one time when I was going through my motions. It wasn't so bad. I learned how to plaster a wall that winter.
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