It's supposed to snow here tonight, the cold air has made my skin so dry I'm scratching like I've got the Defcon 9 version of the chicken pox, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to go all Howard Hughes, complete with keeping my toenail clippings in a mason jar before Ciera gets to High School.
Yet the image of a man named Adrian taking grounders in the Florida sun has got me positively giddy.
Pitchers and Catchers and the random off season free agent pick up have arrived at Spring Training.
And I feel fine.
The Stuff You Can’t See
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