Resist Trump -- Play Ball!

As the vulgar talking yam lurking in the White House seeks to delegitimize the very notions of truth, justice and the American Way, it is critical that we #resist by protesting, mobilizing and organizing.  We must insist on truth and push relentlessly for justice, but we also can't forget to celebrate the American Way -- by which I mean reveling in those profoundly American institutions that cannot be tainted by that malevolent shit-gibbon who is befouling just about everything else.  For me those sacred institutions include jazz (see Streamin' Jazz), movies (see Deeper Into Movies) and, of course, baseball. 

And so spring and Spring Training could not come too soon. 

Cue the Ken Burns music and read the next paragraph in a deep baritone voiceover.

Spring training, like spring itself, is a time of renewal and rebirth; a time when even the lowliest team has hope for the season ahead.  Critical trades and free agent signings over the winter have bolstered the team's weaknesses.  Players coming off injury-plagued seasons are returning in the best shape of their careers.  Hitters have corrected the flaws in their swing and pitchers have discovered devastating new pitches. 

It may be hackneyed and trite, but I buy it every year. 

As a Met fan, for most of the last decade or three, after enduring yet another dismal season filled with heartbreaking losses, underachieving performances, devastating injuries, and mind-boggling player moves or non-moves, I would nevertheless approach Spring Training with a naïve optimism that would endure at least until Opening Day. 

I would then delude myself through much of a hopeless baseball season that my team could pull it together and make a run for the playoffs down the stretch.  I refuse to face reality until sometime in August -- or, last year, in June -- when forced to accept the inevitability of a losing season, I would be stuck watching a team play uninspiring baseball for the last month or so, with little to root for other than spoiling another team's playoff run and the individual achievements of favorite players.  With a team going nowhere, much of the luster and lyricism of the game was lost -- at least until the spring, when it all begins again.

And here we are.  Perhaps due to the ghost of Bernie Madoff, Mets ownership refuses to act like a major market team that spends money for players that could put them over the top.  Instead, they hope to placate the fans by doing just enough to make the team competitive so that if everyone stays healthy and they get a little lucky, they can squeak into the playoffs -- never mind that they never stay healthy and they haven't been lucky since 1986.  

But wait -- there is no room for skepticism.  It's Spring Training. And, besides, the Mets actually did bolster the team with the acquisition of solid, if a wee bit past-their-prime players, including Robinson Cano and Jed Lowrie.  They added a big bat behind the plate in Wilson Ramos, strengthened their bullpen and added some important depth.  Their great young pitchers are all feeling good and ready to blow away hitters.  They have budding stars in Michael Conforto and Amed Rosario.  Brandon Nimmo and Jeff McNeil are the kind of gritty players that great teams need.  And there are high hopes for rookie Pete Alonso.

If everyone stays healthy and they get a little lucky, the Mets could have a magical year.

As for the fate of the country?  If we protest, organize and mobilize, and if we continue to protect our precious institutions, as the late, great Joaquin Andujar described both America and baseball "in one word:  you never know."

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