WHY, YES SIR, YOU MAY

Small Ball is back for another season of seat-edge excitement. My famous co-blogger and I are are going to bring you the most lucid fan commentary available on the web. That's right, once you're done with the rest, you might as well have whatever the rest of that saying is.

Small ball. Erik and I love the idea of the little moves, the subtle advances, the strokes across a strategic game board. I'll speak for my friend when I say that the advent of a baseball season is tantamount to the arrival of sunshine and warm weather, when you can pop open a beer and go nuts with a mate over the fate of a team.

'Round April, when in most American places you stop seeing your breath, it's time for baseball. Players bloom and through summer toughen. By fall, they begin to redden and in the end brown or blow green into winter, when sleep consumes us all.

anonymous