As I sit here just over a week after the end of one of the more thrilling Super Bowls in history, the continuation of another tough winter in our beautiful little hamlet is starting to wear a bit thin. While I am a believer in karma, one friend has said to the point of almost being superstitious at times, I dare say that while cold, the winter of 2014-2015 has not been as bad as last year's nightmare.
Of course I probably just jinxed the next four to six weeks, likely causing the St Paddy's Day Parade down Main St. to resemble the Iditarod more than a celebration of spring and Irish-American pride. Or maybe I should relax and put a cap on my paranoid superstitions. The truth most likely lies in its usual place, somewhere between the extremes.
To that end, two days ago my eight-year-old son Liam had his first travel team baseball practice. Indoors of course. Yet, even though it was indoors and I drove past one or two mountains of snow on the way to his practice, I began to feel warmer just thinking about baseball. The morning after the Super Bowl is a sort of turning of the seasons for many men. The football season has officially ended, causing us to immediately turn our attention to the boys of summer. While the temperature hasn't changed, we trick ourselves into thinking it's getting nicer outside as the first thought on our minds is, 'How many days until pitchers and catchers?'
For those who are unfamiliar with baseball, or are plain not interested in the sport, the above is a reference to the first day of spring training. Since they are arguably the two most important players on a baseball team, the pitchers and catchers are the first to report to spring training. This only helps so much though, since their late February arrival in Florida is roughly halfway through the length of the edict from the prognosticating groundhog. Ughh!! When is he not going to see his shadow? Maybe Nostradamus has already told us.
While at times a bit superstitious and impatient, I am at the end of the day a glass half-full guy. It is clearly preferable, not to mention more enjoyable, to look on the sunnier side of this rubix cube we call life. Sometimes though, it's a bit tough waiting for said sun to appear in all of its glory, raising our spirits along with the stock price of Coppertone. I am hopeful our friend the sun will be doing both sooner rather than later.
By the time the fine citizens of Clinton are reading this, I hope they are in the midst of one of the many rites of spring in Hunterdon County: riding their bicycles on any of the numerous trails that form the landscape between High Bridge and Lambertville, playing tag with their kids in the playground at Bundt Park, or sitting in their backyard enjoying a cold beverage (adult or otherwise). As the March issue of the CTNL has made its way into the mailboxes of our fair town, here's hoping a glorious and warm spring has sprung. If not, I hope the sled dogs are in shape.