Time Begins Again Bob's Backstop for April 4, 2005

Neats-foot oil. Leather. Horsehide. Freshly-cut grass. The crack of a bat. The satisfying snap of a fly ball falling into the pocket. The umpire barking out a call. Vendors plying their wares. Infield drills. Kids flitting from one batting practice home run to another as if they were seagulls swarming over discarded french fries here, a slice of bread there. The smell of Boog's BBQ. The carny calls of the outside vendors. "Cheaper on the outside!" The hustle and bustle of the Eutaw Street pre-game festival.  Wood shavings from the bat maker, fresh roasted peanuts, barbeque sauce from Bambino's Ribs. Games of catch with your dad, with friends. Hotbox. Kentucky Derby. Five Hundred. Even Roll-A-Bat. Friction tape baseballs and judiciously nailed reassembled bats.

Something more personal? Seeing the familiar face of the usher in your favorite section. Sitting in your season seats for the first time each year. Stopping off in Lexington Market before the game. Meeting friends at the Wharf Rat. Pausing at the statue of the Babe, or leaning on Number Five while awaiting a friend. Visiting your favorite vendor, the one with the spicy red sauce for the hot dogs, the guy you were buying from on 33rd Street in 1988.

Walking past the new Memorial Stadium memorial, the gooseflesh rising as you read those unique words that once again carry too much weight. Pistachios and cashews, cotton candy, scalpers, panhandlers, kids crying, kids overjoyed. Outside Pitch, being sold as usual by some of the scaggiest people around the ballpark. Get your program here. Insert your ticket into the slot. Open your bag, please. You want onions and peppers on that?

No Chuck Thompson. No Jon Miller. But Elrod is out there. Ernie Tyler, too.

Memories. The Froot Loops kid. Ed-die. The Original Moose. Lunch-Bucket Joltin' Joe Orsulak. Otter. Storm Davis. Eric Davis. Glenn Davis. Chris Sabo. Jeff Manto. Brady. Devo. Big Ben. Raffy. Dave Johnson. Davey Johnson. Rick Sutcliffe. Pat Hentgen. Fernando. El Syd. The Pear. Jamie Moyer. Mark McLemore. Billy Rip. Steve Finley. Bob Melvin. Leo Gomez. Rene Gonzales. Jay Tibbs. Jeff Ballard. Niner. B.J. Melvin. Phil Bradley. Tim Hulett. Mark Williamson. Howie Clark. Sam Horn. Bordy. Harold. Jeff Reboulet. Jesse. Chris Hoiles. Chito. Jeff Tackett. Todd Frohwirth. Alan Mills. Arthur Rhodes. Bullet Bob Milacki. Randy Myers. Jack Voigt. Pags. Brad Pennington. Lee Smith. Jeff Huson. and some guy named Cal...

It's all on the field. Right in front of you. The jigsaw pieces are on the card table, now the assembly begins. 162 games. Six months. Some puzzles will be hopeless from nearly the beginning. The pieces are ill-fitting, or missing. Others will fit together smoothly, like clockwork. Most will be in-between. There is always hope that the framework might appear, that the heart will step up a beat as each piece falls into place. For a few, the end of May will show promise that could have only been hoped for. For others, no shuffling of the pieces around the table will make the journey go any smoother.

But what a ride it is, one that many of us live for, no matter the outcome.

Will this be the year? You Gotta Believe? Why Not? Destiny? Our Turn? We Are Family? Cowboy Up? or Big Hat, No Cattle?

Let the games, and life, begin again!