I am three years younger than Mike Morgan so that in itself means I am not to old to pitch. I have had two shoulder surgeries but have gone through extensive rehabilitation so if anything happens this year, I should be able to bounce back or at least share a whirlpool with Matt Mantei. My delivery to the plate is fairly quick so I might be able to give Armando Reynoso a few tips to make the games finish in less than five hours. I don’t chew tobacco so I can take over the Spit Tobacco Prevention duties from Steve Finley so he can concentrate more on hitting a slider and less on his television appearences. I am a devoted family man so I will not be distracted by women with flammable butts like Mike DiFlice was last season. I have a pretty good pick-off move. I once hit a kid named Clifton Park right between the eyes with a rock before he could move in the second grade. I have a fairly strong neck so that if someone hits a home run off of me I will not strain myself turning around watching the ball fly out of the ballpark. Given that the Diamondbacks seem very interested in left-handed pitching (why else would they bring in a fat guy for pizza and a basketball game only to see him sign with the Yankees because they had an all-you-can-eat buffet?) I think I am perfect for the job. I am left-handed and can throw just as hard as Troy Brohawn and I am as accurate as Steve Finley and the Diamondbacks let him pitch last year. What do you say, can I go to Tucson? Please?

Today it was something even more exciting. I received a package from the Arizona Diamondbacks with my upgraded seat locations and a timeline of what to expect during what remained of this short off season. For the fourth time in five years, I was able to upgrade my Diamondbacks season tickets and I now have a new seat assignment. For the 2002 season, I will be sitting in Section 132 Row 16 Seat 15-16. We have moved over exactly one section from where we were last year. This means we will be just a little bit closer to third base, all the better to cheer the players. In the package they also explained that pitchers and catchers would report to Spring Training on Valentines Day (February 14 for those men such as me who might have forgotten that there are other activities than baseball on some days on the calendar). Position players will report to Tucson on February 19 (or the day when your wife finally forgives you for forgetting that Valentines Day was February 14). The team will have their first full day of practice on February 20. Wow, this is so cool! The Diamondbacks begin Cactus League play on March 1 with a game against the White Sox at Tucson Electric Park. It is hard to believe baseball games start in only 49 days. With the days still short and the nights still long, I can at least relax knowing that every day that passes means one less day without baseball.

All of this changed when I moved to Arizona eight years ago. Although Trina for whatever reason packed my snow shovel, it has sat collecting dust since my arrival to the Valley of the Sun. I traded in shoveling snow and now find that I shovel sunshine. Not only is the work lighter, it is also easier to stay warm. Don’t get me wrong, it does get cold in Arizona. Why just a couple of weeks ago the high temperature barely cracked 53 degrees. I was scrambling around trying to find a coat that day I can tell you. But the temperatures have warmed up significantly. Today the high was 81 degrees and it no longer felt like winter. I could almost feel Spring Training arrive. As I drove home with the top down on my Camaro, I could have sworn that I smelled hot dogs and peanuts. Only 26 days remain before pitchers and catchers report to Tucson and I am ready to go. I wonder if the Diamondbacks could use a snow plow operator?

This year was no exception. Dale Murphy again did not make it into the Hall of Fame falling well short of the necessary votes. In an interesting twist, the baseball writers must have all been hanging out at the circus when they made their votes this year. How else can you explain them only voting in one person from this year’s class and that person being not so much being a great baseball player as he is an acrobat? I will have to check my data for sure, but I think Ozzie Smith is the first back-flipping shortstop who has been elected to the baseball Hall of Fame. If this is the beginning of a trend, I believe we will see Bobo the Clown and the Great Walendas elected into the hall in the coming years. I can just see the induction ceremonies now. A small little car pulls up and forty-seven clowns pile out and run up to the podium. There one clown hits Bud Selig in the face with a banana creme pie and another clown honks a horn then plasters the commissioner with a seltzer bottle. This will be awesome. Of course it will later be revealed that a clown bet on the outcome of the vote and armed with a bottle of cold cream, the clown’s make-up will be removed to show that it was none other than Pete Rose. As they handcuff him and lead him to the police car, he will mutter “I would have gotten away with it to if it hadn’t been for those meddling kids and their dog!” All that was lacking from today’s announcement was a bear in a tutu and some Calliope music.

I felt like Charlie from the Willie Wonka movie. I was running around the house singing, “I got a silver ticket!” Of course my family thought I was completely off my rocker, especially when I suggested that Dakota paint his face orange and sing the Oompa Loompa song. An I am sure Trina really did not appreciate my comment that she looked an awful lot like Grandma Josephine. Ah, what a day. A Silver Ticket and all I can eat chocolate bars. It couldn’t get much better than that. Now though comes the hard part, waiting thirty days for the games to begin. Even harder though will be trying to pack every piece of clothing I own so I can stay warm. I am definitely going to need a new Diamondbacks turtleneck and a Diamondbacks sweatshirt. I thought I saw somewhere that there was a Diamondbacks stocking cap available. I wonder if anyone has any Diamondbacks snow boots or mittens for sale? Wow, who would have thought that going to the Olympics would give me such a great opportunity to go to the team shop? I think I better sit down and make a list of things to do. I wonder if we have any fizzy-lifting drinks in the refrigerator? I could use a good burp and who knows, maybe I can fly to the ceiling like Charlie and Grandpa Joe. (Note to self: make sure ceiling fans are turned off.)

The Diamondbacks had released their full 2002 regular season schedule! This was awesome! Now I could sit down and plan out my whole year (well at least I could plan out from April to October which to me IS the whole year). The first thing you have to check is if the Diamondbacks will start the season at home and then you check to see if they will end the season at home. Next, you check everyone’s birthday to see if the Diamondbacks will be at home or on the road. Looking at the schedule, there will be no game at the BOB for Dakota for his birthday. Seems Ashley is out of luck for her nineteenth birthday as well. Oh excellent, Mallorie will be able to spend her sixteenth birthday at the ballpark. She is going to love that! Bummer, the Diamondbacks leave town the day before Tiffany’s birthday. So only one child will get to go to a game for their birthday, that’s a bummer. Next thing I had to check was our anniversary. Yes! Looks like Trina is going to get a great dinner and entertainment that evening. Who knows, maybe I will surprise her and give her a gift certificate at the team shop to buy whatever she wants. I am pretty sure she is going to think this was the best anniversary ever. Well after those events, the next thing I checked was whether I would be able to pick Ashley up from school or if she would have to wait for a road trip before coming home from college. Looks like picking her up this spring will be ok but as for next fall, she is going to have to wait until the Diamondbacks visit the Cubs before she goes to school. Beyond my review, I printed out the schedule and gave to Trina and the kids with the instruction that the summer family vacation can occur on any week where the dates are highlighted in green. Anything in purple means we will be at home (me and the Diamondbacks). You just gotta love this time of year.

She spent the morning packing up all of her things and when she was finally finished, she asked if I would please take her suitcases to the car. That should have been my first clue. When she arrived home for Christmas, she had one bag. Now going back, she had three. The first two bags were not to bad. Although she had a few books and pictures she was taking back, it was still manageable. The third bag though was a whole different story. I reached down to pick it up and as I tried to lift it, I swear the bag was bolted to the ground. It was so heavy that it flipped me over the bag onto the floor when I tried to do a clean and jerk to lift it. After struggling for several minutes, I finally dragged the bag out to the car. I then fashioned a ramp to drag it into the back of the car. Ashley was nervous wondering how I was going to manage getting the bag out at the airport. This though was not a problem. As we approached the curb, I drove past where she should be dropped off. I then put the car in reverse and hit the gas. Tires squealed and then when I got to the curb I hit the breaks. The weight of the bag flew backwards causing it to fly out of the back of the open tailgate and onto the ground right at the feet of a frightened Sky Cap. I gave the guy 5 bucks and verifed that he had medical insurance. As Ashley boarded the plane, we watched as it took off to verify that with that amount of weight it would be able to leave the ground. Now we are one child and one ton lighter than we were this morning. That weight loss was faster than Weight Watchers.

Tuesday of course was New Years Day which meant tons of college football and probably quite a lot of aspirin to help calm the throbbing heads of those who had partied just a little to lively the night before. After all of that, it was back to work for many people (including myself) on Wednesday. After as many years working as I have done, my body knows that when you start a work week, it must be Monday. So when I awoke this morning and drug myself to work, my body knew full well that today was Wednesday. But that is the beauty of this whole thing, it was Friday. When I got off work, I was in shock to realize that I had a whole weekend after working only three days. A guy could seriously get used to a situation like this. So here I sit, watching the World Series DVD for the tenth time, relaxed in the knowledge that I could stay up all night watching this thing because I don’t have to go to work tomorrow. About the only thing better than this would be if there was a baseball double header on. That would be like chocolate syrup on top of a chocolate cake. Doesn’t get much better than that.

So given the amount of trouble I got into just decorating the house, I cannot imagine what she was thinking when she suggested I take down the Christmas decorations and replace them with something more suitable for the remainder of the year. Of course she trusts my judgment. I mean how unhappy could she be if I replaced the pictures of the kids with autographed photos of Diamondbacks players? They are kind of like family aren’t they? And nothing says “I’m home” quite like a set of autographed bats neatly lined up along the wall in the living room. The color of the pine tar nearly matches the curtains if the light shines just right. Now if I could just get six or seven more Bank One Ballpark seats bolted in a row, I could replace that tattered couch that currently sits in that room. Yeah, this is going to be awesome!

Every year as her birthday arrives, I am reminded of that day and how much she means to me and to our family. Each year I attempt to find a special birthday gift for my children, one that will let them know how much they mean to me. This year I thought it was appropriate that Whitney receive a stuffed animal. Not just any stuffed animal but one from Build a Bear Workshop. This store just opened near us and Trina assured me that this would be a great gift. I went into the store with my daughter to let her select and build her bear. The first thing I noticed was that along the wall were lined crates of bear carcasses. It was like seeing plush roadkill. Whitney selected her bear and took it to a machine where a worker helped her stuff the animal using some sort of stuffed animal surgical probe not so gently stuck up the flat animal’s backside. Having recently experienced my first prostate cancer screening, this whole experience made me uncomfortable. It didn’t seem to bother Whitney though as she gleefully pressed the button inflating her roadkill. Once the bear attained the proper obesity, the worker inserted a sound device, a heart, and stitched the bear closed. We were then led to some sort of gas chamber where we shot the bear with compressed air until its fur stood on end.

The back of the store was lined with bear sized clothing that you could purchase so you weren’t seen fondling a naked bear I guess. Anyway, after appropriately dressing the bear, we were led to a computer where we entered the bear’s vital signs and gave it a name. I figured this was why I was brought in. After all, I had lots of great names that would be appropriate (or so I thought). I suggested Bearzilla, Bear Dot Com, Bank One Bear, Bear Bryant, Bob Bearly, Beary Potter, Roadkill Warrior. Nothing but blank stares from Trina and Whitney. They then huddled up and between the two of them named the bear Courtney. What kind of lame name is that? No one will fear a bear named Courtney. If a real bear had a name like that, they would come home to find little blonde girls ransacking their cave, eating their porridge, busting up their furniture and crashing in their bed. Well, who am I to argue with a child on what to name her bear. Reluctantly, I kept my mouth shut and did the job I was sent here to do, I paid the cashier so we could take Courtney home. Funny, that is about the same job I had eight years ago when we brought a bare Whitney home from the hospital. Some things never change.