Spring training is here, and Opening Day is around the corner. Yes, it's that time of year when Wendy's sense of delusionment reaches new heights - baseball season.
Every year my misguided hopes once again pin themselves on to the Detroit Tigers. Hope springs eternal, and I think that this will be the year. Yes, this will be the year that the Tigers make it to .500!
Hey, some of us like to aim small.
The Boyfriend and I were discussing baseball last night, and we did a little daydreaming:
TB: So if you could have your dream season, what would it be?
Me: I don't have to be realistic do I?
TB: No, go crazy.
Me: Tigers win the division, make the playoffs. Oh, and Johnny Damon breaks his leg, Randy Johnson's arm explodes, Jeter's leg falls off, A-Rod blows out his ankle and Mariano's head explodes.
TB: So basically you want all the Yankees to die. That's nice. Why not just have them all on board an ill-fated flight?
Me: Noooooo! Then they'll be martyrs like Roberto Clemente. Yankee fans and sports writers will wax poetic, shrines will be built - noooooo! I don't want them dead - just merely humiliated so the fans will get rabid.
TB: OK, who is the one Yankee you want to get knocked out?
Me: Johnny Damon. And it needs to be bad too. Those NY fans will be so pissed because they're paying him more money than God.
TB: That's good, but they could patch that hole. No, they need to lose Mariano. If he goes down it would ripple right through their bull pen. Farnsworth will crack under media scrutiny, and he'll be riding a bench. Then their starting pitching will be expected to carry more innings....
Me: Oh that's devious. Yeah, definitely Mariano. Where's a voodoo doll when you need one?
TB: *sigh* but the Yankees are going to be good.
Me: Crap, yeah they will. Bastards.