Idle Hands...

What in the name of balls and strikes does a baseball freak do with the mind-numbing down time during the off-season? You take three-plus hours out of every day, and there's a mighty big chasm to fill. Well, I don't know about other people, but I am stuck doing things like knitting scarves, watching the World Series of Poker, and baking a thousand batches of chocolate chip cookies. Does that sound like a life to you?

My mantra is simple. Life without baseball is hard.

Now, we've got to sit by as the Yankee brass goes down to Arkansas to meet with Cliff Lee. Wooing him. Wowing him with wheelbarrows awash with cash. Whacking him over the head with propaganda about what it means to "Be a Yankee." To wear the pinstripes. To be clean-shaven. Excuse me a moment while I go clean up the vomit I just induced.

OK. I am back. There are a few remaining chunks on my shirt, but luckily for you I'm not downloading photos of it to this post.

Hopefully things will pick up soon. We'll get news that Dave Dombrowski and his suitcase full of sailboat sweaters have spirited off to who knows where to negotiate with some top tier free agent. Yes. It will happen. Then the dark days won't seem so long.