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The thirteen weeks or so between Presidents Day and Memorial Day are the best of times for sports fans in America...at least from my seat in the grandstand. As we collectively regain consciousness from the Super Bowl food coma, and the SI swimsuit issue has been downgraded to coaster on the coffee table, we're jolted out of our winter blahs by the sound of bat against ball from the remote fields of Florida and Arizona. And that's just the start of it.
Baseball's renaissance reminds us that it is in fact Spring somewhere, and it whets our appetites for the sports smorgasbord on which we are about to feast. Just as football widows all across the land are celebrating the end of a long season, they are struck by the reality that the excuses not to rake the leaves will again simply be replaced by the excuses not to cut the grass. (I guess I should just cop to the unvarnished sexism of that last remark, and admit that the "football widows" do indeed have their male counterparts in our wonderfully diverse society.)
It's almost unfair how much quality entertainment is crammed into this, the best of quarters in our sports calendar. Start with the happy coincidence of the onset of major league baseball's season co-existing with the thrilling climax of college basketball's year. To our great delight (your mileage may vary) the annual rites of Spring Training, Opening Day, the NCAA Tournament, and the NBA Playoffs are nicely supplemented by another set of one-of-a-kind events....The Masters, The Kentucky Derby, The NFL Draft, and the Indy 500 (and for some of us, the Spring Game)....all combining to administer the kind of numbing sports overdose that we so richly deserve after a long winter. And speaking of numbing...St. Patrick's Day is in there somewhere too.
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