Play ball

 Opening Day, and again I'm sweating the night away in the airless space beneath the right-field overhang in Fenway Park, and there's a hot dog in a weird sideways bun and an overpriced beer and two small boys a couple of rows down from me, one in a Red Sox cap and one in a Yankees cap.

Opening Day, and I'm riding down to Cincinnati with Clarence Young from the Elwood Call-Leader, because back then the Reds always kicked off the MLB season and we always got credentials and  it was a holiday in the old river town, throngs of people in the streets and a parade if I remember and a joyous release from winter. 

Opening Day, and dammit it's raining, but play ball, anyway. Hope is in the air. 162-0 is still possible. You've got the W flag freshly laundered if you're a Cubs fan, and the All Rise banner for Aaron Judge if you're a Yankees fan, and the Dodger Dog already in hand if you're a Dodgers fan.

Meanwhile, if you're a Pittsburgh Pirates fan ...

"Oh, here we go," you're saying now. "And here you were writin' so pretty up until now."

Oh, come on. You oughta know by now that here in the Bloboverse, you can't mention Opening Day without paying homage to my cruddy Buccos.

Who'll once again pinch pennies until they scream, and stink up their gem of a ballpark, and let Oneil Cruz go to the Yankees or Dodgers or Philly eventually because someday Bob Nutting will have to pay him, and we all know how he feels about paying star money to star players.

In other words, those of us who are stuck with our Cruds will enjoy him while we can. 

And have a great time today visualizing 162-0 until the Cruds lose and they're 0-1.

And then start work on our own banner.

"(Blank) Days Since The Pirates Were Not In Last Place," it'll read.