Opening Day

It may be cold, gray and miserable outside, but from my office window I can still see that several hundred people have already arrived at The Jake for today's home opener, even though the first pitch (assuming there is one) is still more than one hour away.

It's nice to be able to focus on something other than the Bud Selig's incompetence or Barry Bonds' dishonesty. The one thing that saves baseball from its repeated suicide attempts is just how good a game it is, and there's nothing like Opening Day to remind you of that.

But that's all it is: a really great game. Some wannabe Aristotles insist on waxing philosophic about baseball and never cease their attempts to convince us that there are some deep insights into the American psyche to be found in a baseball game.

Yes, Professor, I know it's the only game where the defense has the ball and the only team game without a clock. Those are cool facts, but they don't provide particularly profound insights into the meaning of life, and you sound like an ass when you pretend that they do.

So, the next time you see some poseur quoting Jacques Barzun on baseball, tell him to shut his pie hole and watch the friggin' game.

Go Tribe, and PLAY BALL!!