This is the second entry a series, GoodEnough For Me, a companion series to Extrapolator’s Smell’s Like Pujols. The original GoodEnough can be found here, and the latest entry in SMP can be read here.
We are just about 2 weeks into spring training, a time when sports writers are happy to be wearing short sleeves and sunglasses under the Florida sun instead of hats and coats and gloves and misery in places like Philadelphia, Boston, New York, Milwaukee, Cleveland, Cincinnati, and so on. (Mr. Thursday does not care for winter).
And so these middle aged men, so enlivened by the lovely weather, so happy to be away from nagging wives and copy editors, away from snow, so giddy at again being able to eat fresh crab in February, knowingly and intentionally pass their joy on to the readers of their columns, in the form of making you believe your team is better than it has in the past. The best writers convince you every year. Joe Posnanski, one of baseball’s finest writers (so fine, in fact, that the Curious Mechanism keeps loose tabs on the Royals just so we can follow his columns) has made a habit every year of predicting, boldly, the Royals will advance to the championship rounds. This year, he’s scaled back–no, no, no, not the postseason, he says, but they’ll be better! Other writers in every baseball city will convince their ballpark faithful of this. The young guys are coming along, the veterans are feeling healthy and spry, the new coaches are having positive impact. The first Cactus and Grapefruit League games start today–games where the writers and fans alike will ignore all the screw-ups and concentrate only on the positives. Hope springs eternal in February.