Pitchers and Catchers have reported to camp folks !!
AN ODE TO SPRING TRAINING
Here is the year’s first soltice, on which our seasons turn;
It elevates our hearts and restores our will,
As the lessons of life’s renewal we learn.
A moment of our lives that seems to always stand still,
As once again a glistening line on the horizon burns bright,
Colors return to warm our souls, succeeding winter’s black and white.
Remember past glories as their stories you tell,
Give the hot stove it’s last stoke as such legends we hear,
On those abundant warm wafts spring’s arrival we smell,
As, remembering past heroic deeds, we shed one final tear;
Returning now between the lines, where the game is always the same,
And the pursuit is always one of everlasting fame.
The crack of the bat, the slap of the glove, small measures of a man’s worth,
Under skies so blue on glistening grass, again it all seems so real;
Buds on the trees, robins aloft, spring returns to the earth,
Hit the ball, touch them all, give the runner the sign to steal.
The joyous sounds of the summer game as horsehide crashes on wood,
As we scale new heights to reach those peaks we always knew we could.
So prepare for the new season lads, to enter the ranks of the hallowed few,
Write legends that will live anon and anon from sea to shining sea,
They’ll write reams of prose to remember you, boys, glorify the things that you do,
An annual ritual for little boys and grown men, loved by both of them equally.
Welcome the season’s returning sensations, allow them to fill you with joy,
It comes once a year and brings the same cheer as opening a new Christmas toy.
And so we approach this passage as we have time and time again,
A passage from cold, from dark and from snow back to the warmth of the sun,
And we return with our bodies healthy and strong, repaired from last season’s pain,
And soon it becomes so natural to us, double steals, pick offs, hit and run.
Enter each series with hope springing anew, win the opener, go for the sweep,
Confront the odds, come from behind, climb every hill, no matter how steep.
Long summer days linger ahead, the time of our lives is up;
So gut it up for another season boys, hold on, take a deep breath,
Every day, every game a new beginning, any end can be so abrupt.
Remember it’s only a game my boys, not a matter of life and death.
So here we are at the juncture of seasons, on another adventure away,
So many numbers we’ve counted to now, pitchers and catchers are in camp today.
Enjoying the warmth in the sports world, I’m Scott Gray.