During baseball season, the yellow radio lives at the beach. People walking the shore line slow down when they hear the announcers’ voices , trying to catch my eye, to ask for a score. Sometimes we’ll get into a heated discussion about a pitcher’s bad outing (A.J. Burnett, I’m talking to you), but more often, they’ll nod their thanks and continue on.
The blue one lives at home, for non-beach days spent pulling weeds or planting annuals in the small garden in front of my house.
But it’s that time again.
No more baseball until next year.
It’s an odd time for a new beginning, strange to be starting a baseball blog just as major league baseball has shuttered up until spring.
But that, of course, is precisely why.
Perhaps the offseason won’t be quite as depressing if I give myself a weekly occasion to think and talk major league baseball.
And some other things. Like great baseball books. And old-time players not much thought about these days. (I’ve had Larry Doby on the brain for weeks.) And odd facts that make me smile—like the Hall of Fame’s decision to display Armando Galaraga’s spikes from his spectacular, if not officially perfect, game.
I’m old enough to know that time goes by quickly. It’ll be spring before too long, time to check the batteries and bring that yellow radio back to the beach. To spend an afternoon sitting in the New Jersey sun, listening.
Photo credit: Baseball Almanac