The First Game

Yesterday ESPN broadcast a spring training game between the Tigers and the Braves, my first of the season. Spring training is baseball in a minor key. More relaxed, with fans lounging on green hillsides, taking in the sun. Players with strange names getting a chance to play for a couple of innings before being designated for assignment. Running, stretching, fielding drills.

But spring training is, above all, promise. The veteran who is finally healthy. The team that spent the winter trading and signing players who will play brilliantly and lead them to the championship. The perennial losing team with just the right chemistry. The kids coming up, who have never heard of Duke Snider, each a Rookie of the Year.

And all this is true until Opening Day. Until the losers start losing and the winners find ways to win. Until the phenom can't hit a curveball. Until the critical injury and the grinding schedule and the clubhouse grumbling and the dugout temper tantrums take their toll.

But until then, all through March, everyone is a winner with a chance to go 162 and 0. And so begins our love affair with baseball begins once again.