Speculation and Memory: Dealing with the Grey

Perhaps it's the grey weather but I've been feeling a wee bit glum. Today, in hopes of feeling a little less glum, I went for a walk and, at the end of it, I found myself doing two things I don't often do: eating a veggie burger (with fries and a Pepsi no less) at Harvey's and watching the sports network. The news of the hour was the Orioles trading Tejada to Houston for 5 players: highlight after highlight showed spectacular plays and I began to crave the roar of a crowd, the heat of the sun, the smudges on my scorecard. On TV today I saw players I didn't realize I had missed over the past few months: "Big Papi! How are you?" "Good afternoon Mr. Jeter..." The longer I looked at the dirt of the infield and the green of the grass, everything seemed less grey and cold around here. Over the past couple of weeks, I notice I keep having surrepticious conversations at work about baseball: talks about batting order in the stairwell even though I know I'm going to be late for a meeting; pontifications about the Maybin trade over the carrot sticks at the Christmas party; and hushed conversations about Granderson at the reference desk. I'm starting to realize that the baseball isn't a game that just happens between April and October. There's the regular season where there are concrete things to talk about: who's doing well, who's in a slump, who has what injury. And then there's the off-season when all you talk about is memory and speculation: remember when...? who do you think is going to... ? I wonder who...? I wonder if....? I'm starting to realize that in the doldrums of winter, there's nothing lovelier than existing in the realm of memory of springs past and and the speculation of springs to come. Spring is, I'm realizing, just around the corner.