Mr. Simple Looks Ahead

I am a simple man, with what appear to be simple goals.

I want to hit the ball over the third baseman, but short of the left fielder. I want the sound of the ball hitting the bat to be robust, the trajectory of the ball fast enough that I can watch the third baseman jump in the air. I want him to wish he could grab the ball but know in his heart as he leaps frantically that there is no hope.

I want to confidently round first base and take a long look before retreating to safety. I want to accept the congratulations of my first base coach.

It is not all about me. I want Jenny Fortman to show up unexpectedly and sit down and drink a beer with us. I want an argument to break out about who is an important rock star and I want to hear George make an important point that makes everyone in the bar laugh. I want to hear a chorus of voices take up Just Because by Frankie Yankovich.

I want Zin to hit it a mile. I want Gary to beat out a grounder. I want Keith to snag a long fly ball, I want Marty to be healthy. I want to see Jeff wearing a jersey and Buggs standing on second base proud as the day he was born. I want to believe in Burrell, I want to chastise Charles, I want to see Dave-O wiggle his ass as he steps to the plate. I want to hear Malibar call someone a Nancy. I want everyone to love the Keekley designs for the shirts. I want a small crowd of people to nod as we finish a strong inning. I want someone to shout, Thats what Im talking about, B-Squad!

I want (and now I am feeling kind of greedy) to have Bill Paarmann play some sort of pep-band song on the sideline. On something substantial like a tuba or trombone. Accompanied by Fing Meadows.

I want to be surprised, but in a good way. I want someone to tell the truth for a change, I want to be kept a safe distance from where the action is, I want to be recognized for being simple and not needing that much to be happy.

But you can set all of these wants aside, if I can have this simple win: I want to Mike Black to have a nickname. A real, honest-to-goodness nickname. The kind of thing that sticks so hard that three years from now his wife refers to him with this new nickname in their private moments. A nickname so perfect that his Mom uses it a Thanksgiving dinner.

I have checked the archive and found one point where I tried to get some action behind Mr. Vacation. Not surprisingly, it did not fit.

So I approach the BSquad season with a sense of purpose, a want above all wants, a goal to be met. Because if this simple task is completed then I will be able to mark my season a grand success.