Brave New World.

Wonders never cease. During the course of the spring I actually found myself warming to John Lackey. This is amazing progress given how much I disliked the man, his Hapsburg chin, and his stupid mole--and then he spoke and it made the whole package more cartoonish. Now, I may still be a little punchy from the game but in another miracle-of-miracles after watching the video of his presser, I actually like Kevin Youkilis.

Chatty Cathy.

I kind of miss surly Josh Beckett; the one whose vocabulary didn't seem to extend beyond a handful of swears, "yes", "no", and an assortment of grunts because at least when he sucked, it made for an amusing post game interview. I wouldn't call this Josh Beckett entirely comfortable with the interview process but he does use his words albeit in a not particularly entertaining way.

Things To Sustain Us on a Baseball-Less Monday.

This post may do nothing to prove that I am not a terrible person but it turns out that Bud Selig is a tease and I need something to amuse myself on a baseball-less Monday.

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Reuters Pictures

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I swear that it's not like I've spent any time at all examining Mark Teixeira's hair but I don't remember it being that dark. It looks so very, very wrong and flat that I suspect it's a bad home dye-job. And there's nothing as sadly pathetic as a man who dies his hair. (Of course, now that I've written it, it probably means that it's always been that color and I look crazy and petty. If I was wrong, it would prove though that I don't spend my time mooning over horse face.)

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I don't care one way or the other about the majority of Yankee players. I really find it impossible to dislike Curtis Granderson (He hits a home run off of Josh Beckett? You just have to remember him crying over having to play for the Yankees and it's all forgiven.) There's a special level of disgust toward Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez, no doubt about that. But the player I most enjoy seeing fail--call it Kevinyoukilitis--is Joba Chamberlain. If he's sad, well all the better.

Awesome Possum.

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What a game. I will admit to complaining about this game as early as last summer when the schedule first came out; starting against the Yankees seemed unnecessary and like overkill but that was fun.

It didn't start out that way but it was good enough. The pitching was not fabulous and there weren't many runs prevented. But the defense wasn't bad and they mustered enough hits to survive the night.

And there was Petey. You can't go wrong with Petey.

Can't Keep a Good Schill Down.

Back in January Curt Schilling moved his blog off of 'EEI's website and back to the relative anonymity of his own website. Unable to avoid the limelight, Curt has hooked onto ESPN agreeing to contribute to ESPNBoston, ESPN.com, ESPN Radio, and Baseball Tonight. His premiere will be on tomorrow's Baseball Tonight, to talk Sox-Yankees before the big game.

Onion Goggles.

There's this wonderful group of people who, even if they know a piece is from The Onion, will first insist on believing it and second insist that it can't possibly be true. I know that that sounds condescending but I find a little bit of gullibility charming and do wish that I could part ways with a little bit of my cynicism. According to The Onion, there are big changes coming to the Fens:


Red Sox Announce Plans To Return Fenway To Original 1912 Conditions

Homeward Bound.

Baseball is a funny little game. I don't follow the other games that are played professionally --football, hockey, basketball-- but it seems to me that baseball, above all the others, is a game full of ghosts. The stars of yesterday, who may have been dead and buried/frozen for quite awhile, might as well be walking around on that field. Their stories (who they were as players, as people) live on so that they seem to be more than just stories handed down or read in book, they're more than just numbers on the back of a baseball card, they seem to be very real and still quite relevant.

And tomorrow it all starts again. Somehow these players, this year will make their mark on history. New legends will get their start. A player will have a break-out season. A top-rated prospect will bust. Players that only the most dedicated followers of a team's farm system will have heard of, will burst onto the scene. A player will finally live up to his hype. A team *knock wood it's not the Sox* will lose a player to injury and fall out of contention. Somebody will exceed all expectation and be the feel-good story of the year. The Twins will muddle their way through to an AL Central win. And maybe, just maybe, this will be the year the Cubs win it all.

A shiny new baseball season begins. Anything is possible. And I can't wait.