Early Bird Gets The Germ

You ever get naked dreams? The ones where you're trying to perform every day tasks - ones that require clothing - but you're fully nude? The scene in "Bull Durham" where Nuke LaLuche stands on the mound wearing nothing but Susan Sarandon's panties is tame compared to the dreams most big leaguers have had. Hell, when you're naked and you're not supposed to be, and don't want to be, a pair of women's panties covering up a man's tool shed is conservative.

I get these dreams maybe two times a year. When I least expect it, I'm ten years old again, walking to school, realizing I'm fully unclothed, and then running from bush to car to small dog, hiding. I usually wake up before resolution. Being that I'm 39 and I get two of these a year, that's 78 instances of embarrassed, unresolved self-nudity floating all over my subconscious.

Number 79 happened Friday night. But instead of being in a childhood scene, I was in present day. Like "Bull Durham," I was on the pitching mound. But no shoes, no hat, no glove, and definitely no panties. It was the playoffs and there I was, feeling totally unprepared. A baseball rested in my right hand, but my surgically repaired right elbow wouldn't bend. The stadium was at times empty, sometimes bursting to standing room only. I was supposed to throw the first pitch. As I looked around at my teammates, who looked back as if I was, not so much a crazy man but someone who was disappointing them, I got a sick feeling in my stomach.

I saw Vanessa in the stands, shaking her head. I'd let her down again too. The sick feeling became more real. Rick Churches strolled out to the mound demanding the ball. No words of encouragement. No pat on the tush. I handed him the ball and began the dreaded long guillotine back to the dugout and clubhouse. Fans threw things at me - bottles, candy, a battery (small and from an iPod, but just as deadly). The sickness raged in my chest, worked its way up to my throat...

I woke up, ripped the sheets off my sweat-drenched body, ran to the toilet and made it just in time. I cleaned up and stumbled back into the bedroom. 5:18 AM read the clock. I was up just like I'd planned, only I hadn't planned on feeling like this. Friday was going to be my new beginning. My head was where it had to be, my body not. Hence, the early wake up to work out. I had been convinced I wouldn't get the flu bug that'd been rifling through my house like a burglar looking for jewelry. But instead, I crawled back into bed, shivering.

Saturday a washout, today a washout. I think I'm coming down with something.