I’m not podcasting about baseball at the moment, but I’m still writing, watching, listening, drafting, enjoying.

It’s our “national game”, and that might not mean a whole lot, but at least it’s something we still have, however tainted it might be, by the past and current sins of this country.

It’s not baseball’s fault, what people have done with it. From everything I’ve read, baseball as we know it was started by a bunch of Manhattan clerks, artisans, paralegals, craftsmen, who took a ferry across the river to the Elysian Fields in Hoboken, New Jersey, to find some fresh air and open space. Noble start, at least.

But who were these clerks? Often described as “low-level, white collar workers”, these were desk jockeys of every sort. (Yes, sadly, I can relate on that one.)

So people like me, bored with their jobs, feeling penned in by modern, hyper-capitalist New York City, moved heaven and earth, crossed land and river to play a game of hitting a ball with a stick.

Sounds amazing! No wonder there’s so much romance associated with this game.

So as the snow starts to melt on this tired land, get out and throw a ball around!