A NEW HOPE

I attended the Washington Nationals' Opening Day on Friday, 4 April.  It was a great day ("great" in that it wasn't cold and it didn't rain, like on some other opening days).  The fellas and I started the day with our ritual of breakfast tacos (don't ask) from "DC Taco," a bloody mary (I hate bloody marys), and, of course, beer--lots of ice cold beer.  And I mean really ice cold--with ice cold ice--not like that so-called "ice cold" lukewarm beer the beer guy in the stadium sells.  I felt just like a kid on opening day! 

Okay, so the Nats lost 2-1 (we did pull a boner by getting caught in a rundown between 2nd and 3rd with no outs), and we blew a 2-on, no outs opportunity.  But other than that, it was a great day!  The beer was cold, (the girls were cute), and I wasn't working!!!  Maybe that's why I felt so much like a kid!

The following is a poem I found that will be my 2014 inspiration for the Washington Nationals.  We have a good team, we have the players who have talent, and a good manager.  I say we approach this season with wide-eyed hope like we were kids!  GO NATS!!!

 

CLOTHESPINS (By  Stuart Dybek)  

I once hit clothespins  

for the Chicago Cubs.  

I'd go out after supper  

when the wash was in  

and collect clothespins  

from under four stories  

of clothesline.  

A swing-and-a-miss  

was a strike-out;  

the garage roof, Willie Mays,  

pounding his mitt  

under a pop fly.  

Bushes, a double,  

off the fence, triple,  

and over, home run.  

The bleachers roared.  

I was all they ever needed for the flag.  

New records every game—

once, 10 homers in a row!  

But sometimes I'd tag them  

so hard they'd explode,  

legs flying apart in midair,  

pieces spinning crazily  

in all directions.  

Foul Ball! What else  

could I call it?  

The bat was real.