BASEBALL, FLORIDA AND LIFE
FORT MYERS, Fla. -- Did you ever wonder why something as beautiful as a rose has to have thorns ?
Funny how even life's most beautiful gifts have some Trojan-horse qualities.
Take Florida, for example. The weather has been perfect -- 80s, sun shining all week. My skin takes on the amber glow that we sun-worshippers treasure. I've seen dear friends that I get to see only once a year.
Baseball abounds. Those who read my last offering know that enterprising fans wandering off the beaten track to attend a minor league "camp" game came face-to-face with American League batting champion Joe Mauer. For the less adventurous for whom cost is no deterrent, tickets can be had for Grapefruit League contests.
Then there are the nuisances that remind me about the paradox of the rose.
What can be more important to a human being than crisp, fresh water flowing from a tap whenever you need it? Seasoned Florida travelers know enough not to pour themselves a glass of water for drinking, but you can't use bottled water when it's time to wash off the beach sand. I don't know what they put in the water before they send it on its way to consumers, but it conjures up thoughts of following a car up Avon Mountain that has catalytic converter problems.
Back to baseball.
The Twins are without a doubt the most accommodating group of baseball people I have known in my 26 years of active association with folks in the game. Hammond Stadium, their springtime habitat, reflects their benevolence. But things can get hostile when the Yankees and Red Sox come in.
Seats in the press box disappear fast. The hostile nature and general lack of civility that big city life fosters poisons the Florida landscape. The Twins provide the traditional baseball standards of peanuts and soft drinks at the Hammond Stadium press box and I had the nerve to allow a peanut skin to graze the telecommunications equipment of some NYC hotshot who was having technical difficulties.
After I got bellowed at, I told the gentleman that I would gladly get on my cellphone and ask the almighty to prevent the wind from blowing his way. God forbid I should inhibit a Mike and the Mad Dog flash. Just another reminder why I wouldn’t permit my sweet, short life to be blighted by any big city.
It makes me recognize how much I enjoy my time with our local high school student-athletes and nestled in my comfortable corner of the New Britain Stadium press box, where an island of Minnesota Twins cordiality pulses through the hearts and minds of the Rock Cats.
Funny how even life's most beautiful gifts have some Trojan-horse qualities.
Take Florida, for example. The weather has been perfect -- 80s, sun shining all week. My skin takes on the amber glow that we sun-worshippers treasure. I've seen dear friends that I get to see only once a year.
Baseball abounds. Those who read my last offering know that enterprising fans wandering off the beaten track to attend a minor league "camp" game came face-to-face with American League batting champion Joe Mauer. For the less adventurous for whom cost is no deterrent, tickets can be had for Grapefruit League contests.
Then there are the nuisances that remind me about the paradox of the rose.
What can be more important to a human being than crisp, fresh water flowing from a tap whenever you need it? Seasoned Florida travelers know enough not to pour themselves a glass of water for drinking, but you can't use bottled water when it's time to wash off the beach sand. I don't know what they put in the water before they send it on its way to consumers, but it conjures up thoughts of following a car up Avon Mountain that has catalytic converter problems.
Back to baseball.
The Twins are without a doubt the most accommodating group of baseball people I have known in my 26 years of active association with folks in the game. Hammond Stadium, their springtime habitat, reflects their benevolence. But things can get hostile when the Yankees and Red Sox come in.
Seats in the press box disappear fast. The hostile nature and general lack of civility that big city life fosters poisons the Florida landscape. The Twins provide the traditional baseball standards of peanuts and soft drinks at the Hammond Stadium press box and I had the nerve to allow a peanut skin to graze the telecommunications equipment of some NYC hotshot who was having technical difficulties.
After I got bellowed at, I told the gentleman that I would gladly get on my cellphone and ask the almighty to prevent the wind from blowing his way. God forbid I should inhibit a Mike and the Mad Dog flash. Just another reminder why I wouldn’t permit my sweet, short life to be blighted by any big city.
It makes me recognize how much I enjoy my time with our local high school student-athletes and nestled in my comfortable corner of the New Britain Stadium press box, where an island of Minnesota Twins cordiality pulses through the hearts and minds of the Rock Cats.
posted by Ken Lipshez at
9:37 AM
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