8 Weeks

Too snowy and icy to run this morning and too early to go anywhere to work out (Andy, as strong in mind and body as he is, took an oath many years ago to never rise before or during an hour that begins with a 6), I put an old tape into the VHS player and tried that out. It was a workout tape called "8 Minute Abs." I am under no illusion that I can make my abs look like the host's abs in 8 minutes. I'm pushing for 8 weeks. That would be the start of spring training. In Florida. Where's it's not snowy and icy.

The music sounded like it was transferred from a porn film. The two actors working out with the host sported funny hair and clothes. I looked at the box and saw the tape came out in 1991. I hit pause, found a photo album, and looked for a picture of myself from 1991. There I was at Christmas time. I had more hair then. I remember the style was called a "ledge." My barber, Pete, said it was all the rage. I liked it so much that when I went back 8 weeks later to have my head re-ledged, Pete said the rage was over and he wouldn't cut another ledge, unless the rage came back. Now look at me. If the rage came back, I wouldn't have enough hair to be retro-ledged. Quite upsetting.

I finished the abs video and went upstairs. The rest of the house was still asleep. Actually, the occupants were asleep. A house cannot sleep because it is not a living being. Like barbers and 8 minute ab actors. Went into the kitchen and peered into the fridge. There was some good stuff there. Why?

Not only did the team get me a personal trainer, but they got me a personal chef as well.

There, I said it. One person's sole job for the next 8 weeks is to build up my body. Another person's sole job is to feed it. Tomorrow I go to the team psychiatrist. He's not my personal one, however. I'm not afraid to share.

I grabbed an avocado stuffed with ricotta cheese and flipped on the kitchen TV. ESPN was somewhere. The remote was somewhere too, but I couldn't find it, so I had to flip the stations from 2 to 36 by hand. I think it's lazy of TV manufacturers to not build TVs that change channels on verbal command. Why should I have to get off of my stool and reach over to flip a channel. Not fair.

Made it to ESPN and saw two major headlines.

1. KAI GOTO SIGNS $108 MILLION 8-YEAR DEAL WITH NY.
2. NY TRADES FOR KC OUTFIELDER LYMAN GAYE.

Wow. I sleep for 7.28 hours and look what happens. We give the team's second biggest contract of all time to The Jimmy Scott of Japan and then trade for the batter Jimmy Scott - me - was throwing to when his (my) elbow suddenly decided to have an out of arm experience. Overnight, we're a better team. I don't know Lyman very well. I know about his supposed baggage, but the man sure can hit and field. I think he had 20+ home runs last year for the 4th year in a row. And they (scouts, not computer guys) predict Kai to win at least 15 games. (The computer guys say he'll win 14.4 games.)

I swallowed my mouthful of cheese and looked around for someone to share my thoughts with. It was 5:56 AM. The house was as quiet as a mouse, aside from the TV, my clicking jaw, and a hair voluntarily falling out of my head and parachuting to the floor. Good things are starting to happen again. My only wish is that I could share my feelings with someone. We'll see what my personal team psychiatrist says about that tomorrow. He'll hopefully give me some good advice that gets me through the next 8 weeks, or at least lasts longer than my next haircut.