You can keep your beaches, your bathing suits and your Mardi Gras beads. I'll take my infields, Red Sox jersey and autograph pad. You visit your Daytona Beach, Cancun and Montreal. I'll visit my Fort Myers, Sarasota and Clearwater. You go on spring break; I'll go to spring training. Wait. I just did.
When I first walked into City of Palms Park, the Red Sox's spring training stadium in Fort Myers, Fla., I instantly fell in love. Taking batting practice were many of the same guys I had followed during their rollercoaster 2004 season that ended with an unbelievable finish and their first world championship - in case you hadn't heard - in 86 years.
There were scrappy veterans who humped it just hoping to catch the eye of another ball club and sign for one more year in the bigs. And there were wide-eyed rookies trying to learn everything from the grizzled vets through osmosis. There were palm trees swaying in the outfield and a warm breeze blowing across the stands. I'm not sure exactly what nirvana is, but I know I was pretty close to it.
Over a wonderous week, my love of spring training grew with each passing day, until I decided that I'm going to skip the whole "career" thing and go straight to retirement. I'll winter in Florida, go to baseball games and eat breakfast at the same restaurant as Dick Vitale - just like my aunt and uncle, whom my father and I stayed with. I'm serious about this, and I'm sure I wasn't the only person at those Grapefruit League ballparks who felt this way.
Spring training really has something for everyone. For hardcore baseball fans, it gives them a sneak peak at this upcoming season. For kids, it's a chance to see their favorite players, their heroes, up close in personal. For the casual fan, it's a chance to put your feet up on the dugout, take off your shoes, lean back, drink a beer and enjoy the national pastime.
And there's all these great people you run into. The woman in front of me getting onto the plane to Florida is the next-door neighbor of Miguel Cairo, the former Yankee and now Met second baseman. And for God's sake, our Waffle House waitress' son was the second pick for the Tampa Bay Devil Rays in 2003, and I have the baseball card to prove it!
And then there's the relaxed pace of the games. When the biggest cheer comes for the weather ("Right now it's 27 and snowing in Boston, and it's 78 and sunny here in beautiful Fort Myers!"), you know you can sit back and relax. I mean, the rush to get to the early-bird specials offered by the local restaurants was worse than the rush to get seats at some games. I guess they have to tone down the atmosphere and tempo of the game so that none of the geriatrics attending have a heart attack.
Finally, spring training really brings to life our ideals of what spectator sports are all about. It's a place where before the game Manny Ramirez can play catch with someone in the stands. It's a place where players gladly sign autographs for adoring fans. It's a place where all foul balls are given to the littlest kid in the area, making some lifelong fans.
Yes, spring training is the place where you can see past the steroids, the multimillion-dollar contracts, the whining players and the greedy owners, and see why we still love this game so much.
