Today was the first day of spring weather. No sports going on besides the Olympics, obnoxious stories that Kirk Cousins is gonna get $60 million from the Jets his first year, and another scandal involving the Dallas Mavericks. The world is fucked up right now. It’s hard to tell what is real anymore.
Essentially, it’s the weeks before March Madness when everyone decides that they are knowledgeable in collegiate basketball. Trae Young’s name will be thrown around hundreds of times leading up to the tourney. That is, if Oklahoma can make it there.
So today’s topic really has to do with the excitement of spring and everything it exudes.
I did not wear a t-shirt today. It was a real shame. I felt like the whole world was playing a trick on me. I woke up and thought it was gonna rain. Rain coat and button down with jeans. Apparently I read the weather wrong. Oh well….
The rest of New York City got the memo. I saw pastels all over, people wearing Yankees hats everywhere, and SHORTS! Shorts in February is like fur coats in July; If you’re wearing it, you’re a pimp.
The warm weather really gets the juices going. If today was a cologne the scent name would be baseball. It just had that feel. It makes me happy and hungry at the same time because It’s when I strive.
I am at my best when Yankees baseball comes back on. When my #blessed calves can breathe. When I vlog so much that you’ll want me to stop and keep going at the same time. The electricity will be through the roof. I can promise you that much.
I can’t wait until I am consumed with John Sterling calls so absurd that I can’t handle myself. Until Stanton hits that first bomb and I am weeping because I still don’t believe he’s here. Until we beat Boston in Boston and everyone wearing a JD Martinez shirsey tears it apart because they’re dummies and they know that it’s all over.
The Bronx will burn for this year. I’ve had 2018 marked down in my calendar since 2013 when we were lost as a franchise. Because I’ve always believed in Cashman. I believed in the Baby Bombers. I believe in the Pinstripes.
You could probably guess but I cannot wait until this season starts. 35 days, 18 hours, 15 minutes and 20 seconds until the seasons starts. But who’s counting?