Oh The Places You'll Go.....

"One way to get the most out of life is to look upon it as an adventure."

-William Feather

One of the greatest blessings of playing baseball over the past three seasons has been getting to travel all over the country. Another player might view the traveling we do as a means to an end to play a game of baseball, but I see it as an opportunity to see, experience, and enjoy all that a place has to offer. I have found that you get out of something what you put in, and for those of you who know me, I like to throw my whole heart into things.

Now, you might be asking when does he have time to do anything when he plays 140 games in 152 days, and the answer my friends is...you find a way! I have lost sleep occasionally, almost missed the bus for a road trip once or twice, but in the end it's worth it for the memories. More than the wins and losses, it's these moments with my teammates and host families below, along with many others, that will etch the walls of my memory for years to come...

On the beach in Vero Beach, Florida





Cliff jumping in Ogden, Utah




At Bear Lake, Utah with my host family from my first season



Swimming in Lake Michigan with my host family from the last two seasons

Canoeing with Paul De Pree on the Rifle River in Michigan

Hiking Camelback Mountain, Phoenix, AZ




Hot Air Balloon ride with my roommate Jordan over Midland, Michigan



At Wrigley Field watching the Cubs play in Chicago


Maybe Dr. Seuss was right all those years ago...?

Fireworks and Freedom

Independence Day! For many, this day of celebration means picnics, boat rides, 3 day weekends, and special memories with friends and family. But for a minor league baseball player, the 'show' must go on. I have spent many July 4th's on a diamond all over the country, this year being Fort Wayne, IN. Even though we play 140 games throughout the season there is something extra special about this one. The stands are always packed with a sell out crowd anxious to watch America's favorite pastime as well as the one tradition that is shared by all, fireworks!

Following the game, I stayed in the dugout to watch the beautiful array of colors, patterns, and explosions from a front row seat. As I sat there I began to think about the celebration at hand. Two teams, thousands of fans, and all the stadium employees sharing the joy of our freedom together by looking up in 'awe and wonder'. In that moment there was nothing else that mattered; who got a hit that night, which pitcher won the game, what our record was on the year, or all the frustrations that this life brings. Just the excitement of the fireworks being shot in the air in response to what happened on July 4th, 1776. Not to sound cliche, but it was kind of a 'freeing' feeling.

In the hotel room that night I began to think about this being bigger than just a few cracks and pops in the air. I wonder what would happen if I just stopped and celebrated my freedom more often? Not freedom that can be given and taken away at the hands of men, but a freedom that is eternal. When I get anxious, frustrated with situations, or just overwhelmed with something, if only I just stopped and celebrated my freedom. In the same way as that 'freeing' feeling that watching fireworks brings, there is a weight lifted when I realize all that was done for me and given to me by the One who gives us the only freedom that we're looking for.

July 4th is just one day a year, it ends and the fireworks are put away until next year...

The freedom I'm talking about, makes me look up....in 'awe and wonder'!!

Thirsty Thursday's

Let me share with you a great revelation about professional sports: you play in front of fans. Now, after such an astute observation you are probably wondering where did Parker receive such incredible teaching and instruction to form in him such wisdom and insight? The answer my friends is Texas A&M University, but I will save that for another day. WHOOP!

Playing in front of fans is true. All kinds. From the cute 5 year old who is experiencing their first baseball game to the elderly couple that makes their nightly outings begin and end with our games. I have experienced so many different types of people through the years, but for the sake of being politically correct, I will strictly say that minor league baseball brings out the best of them. However, there is a certain fan that I would like to share with you about..."today we salute you, 'Thirsty Thursday' fan."

While most fans come to the park to enjoy the game, you come for the dollar beer special. Grabbing two in each hand, you slide into your seat with the sly smile of a weasel as you begin your night of heckling the opposing team. No matter the family with three young kids that are sitting to your right, or the young couple on your left trying to enjoy a date night out, you fill the air with loud obscenities and crude phrases. You withhold nothing as the innings and beers continue to add up, and the more you scream the better the game is. Whether it is about the players looks, performance, or just the guy at the end of the dugout that won't leave your mind, you come with the perfect punch lines. Never stopping to notice people moving away from you or seat attendants pleading with you to be more courteous, you spur on the home team with vigor and gusto. In a place made for friendly entertainment you become the the entertainment and fill the memories of one and all....and for a blogger like myself none the less. So grab yourself another beer on behalf of the sheer brilliance of every Minor League Park who uses this promotion, and we'll see you next Thursday night!

Reading Rainbow

I never thought all those years ago when I watched that show in my pajamas after nap time that I would enjoy reading as much as I do today, but given all the free time we have here it has become one of my favorite hobbies. (If you don't know what I am talking about, google Levar Burton, and you seriously missed out on your childhood experience.) But free time you ask? That is correct.

On a normal home game we will arrive to the field around 1 o'clock and besides hitting in the cage and getting some treatment if you are nursing an injury we will have around 2.5 hours or so to just hang out in our locker room and lounge area before hitting batting practice. In addition to that, following batting practice we will have around an hour and a half before we have to be out for the game. A lot of the guys will play cards, watch whatever is on t.v. in the afternoon which could be anything from a hunting show, Sportscenter for the 5th re-run that day, or a movie, or they will make a few phone calls to catch up with family and friends back home. Personally, I have found that if you don't stimulate your mind somehow then the routine of this life will really start to get to you. Outside of the occasional phone call and writing an email or two, which I really enjoy doing, I love to read during that time.

Something interesting that I have noticed over my three years of doing this is that when you have a few readers on the team, it spreads like wildfire. It just takes a book to be read by one or two guys and then instantly it is passed around the team with a waiting list formed for guys to get their hands on it. I thought I would share with you one book that has been passed around our team recently. It is called Beyond Belief by Josh Hamilton. It is his story of being drafted 1st overall in the 1999 MLB players draft before succumbing to the addiction of drugs and alcohol which eventually drove him away from the game. He shares very candidly his amazing story of how after being out of baseball for two years Jesus changed his life, and freed him of his demons that had chained him for so long. He returned to the game he loved and is now one the best in the big leagues!

I have yet to see one of my teammates take longer than three days to read that book...even if they haven't read one in over a year. There is something inside them, in me, that loves the idea of redemption and of a baseball player getting a second chance in a game that has so few. I believe it's deeper and for all of us when we think of his story; the question being posed is "am I really redeemable?" To that I say, "yes my dear friend, you are!" Thank you Jesus!

Happy Reading

Cotton Candy, Beer, and a Proposal

Clinton, IA, home of the Lumberkings which is minor league affiliate of the Seattle Mariners. Sitting just on the west bank of the Mississippi River sits one of the oldest stadiums in all of Minor League baseball, Alliant Energy Field. Built in 1937, this historic site has hosted thousands of baseball games throughout the better part of the 20th century. Given all the games that have been played here and all the players that have had the blessing to compete between it's lines, I'm sure the stories are endless. Well...I have one to add to the list!

Just before the seventh inning of a game two nights ago, I was eating some peanuts on the bench talking with a teammate, and I heard a voice over the P.A. system that didn't sound like the announcer. It was a young man speaking of his love for a girl and I froze. Before I could find out where this was happening on the field, I immediately realized what was about to happen. Have you ever been in a moment when you see a car about to get in a wreck or a collision waiting to happen on a football field, where you actually cringe in anticipation of the moment of truth? So, the brave young man falls to a knee in front of the 1200 fans, two teams, a few umpires, and a million bugs that decided the lights of the stadium meant they were welcome at the game too. Now I am not dismissing the fact that these two love birds could very easily have met at a Lumberking game, had their first date there, or maybe they both grew up in Clinton and had gone to games here their entire lives and this was just an appropriate way of capitalizing this once in a lifetime moment. Though I wonder, what is it about the game of baseball with all the players covered in grass and dirt stains, crazy fans eating cotton candy and drinking beer, and the screaming kids that makes it so romantic?

In fact, once when I was in Ogden, Utah where I played my rookie season in 2007, I actually took part in a wedding ceremony at home plate right before the first pitch of a game. Our whole team stood in two lines facing each other and formed a 'bat' tunnel and the bride walked from the on deck circle through it to get to home plate for the quick ceremony. True story. Guys, if you are near that decision time and want to make a memory that will last a lifetime...and give stories for the rest of us...find your nearest baseball field and make her dreams come true!

Oh, and the girl from Clinton said yes!

A Dirty Jock?!?

Something that makes baseball so unique is the vast amount of failure that is involved. In fact, it is just as much a part of the national pastime as the peanuts and cracker jacks. You have a round bat, hitting a moving round ball, with only 4/10 of a second to make up your mind to swing or not, as well as 8 players out in the field waiting to get you out. If one connects with the ball and finds green grass and not another player just 3 out of 10 times then he is considered very sucessful. But logistics reveal that even if a hitter does everything perfectly he will still get out at times. Due to the nature of the 'lucky' breaks that a player gets when a batted ball becomes a hit, it creates an entire plethora of weird superstitions to keep the 'baseball gods' in your favor.

On my team there have been guys who haven't washed their jock strap for 2/3 of the season, worn different colored socks than the rest of the team under their pants, used the same torn batting gloves, not shaved if things are going well, and others who have eaten Reece's Pieces, pizza, or a Red Bull before every game. Certain pitchers on our team will walk around the mound a certain way before they pitch and another kneels down and sniffs the grass behind the mound to get ready. These are just some of the many weird tactics that fill every baseball team in every league dating even back to high school. Personally, I don't believe in superstition, but I do believe in routine. Call it what you want, but I do many things the exact same way every day. I keep my locker in the same order, I use certain cleats and batting gloves for warm ups and different ones for the game, I run to center field before each game and push the wall before slapping it four time, and then when I get ready to hit I always rub the pine tar stick on my bat before doing the exact same warm up every time I am in the on deck circle, and I never step on the white chalk lines. Do I believe that any of these things will get me more hits, heavens no, but you will find me doing all the above every game in fear of breaking my routine. Or do I really believe in the 'baseball gods' deep in my subconscious and I'm only kidding myself when I say I don't? Who knows, but I did grow a mustache once, played well and thus kept it for almost a month.

The one other thing that I find with many baseball players, is that God is thrown into the superstitions. All you have to do is turn on the T.V. and see players point to the sky after hitting a home run, striking out a batter, and winning a game. I am all for honoring the Lord with our success, but the only problem I have is that when was the last time you saw a player point to the sky after striking out, making an error, or giving up a home run? Do we really want to honor the Lord, or do we want to get what He can give us in terms of success on the field? Just some thoughts, but truth be told baseball is so mental that players will do anything to be confident...anything!

So, next time you watch a baseball game look a little closer and see what you can find as far as 'routines' of certain players. Seriously, where else in life does one believe they will be successful because of eating a certain type of candy before going to work?

PB&J with a Side of Crackers please

With the schedule of playing a game basically every single day and from having to be at the ball park normally around 6 hours before the game even starts, the question might be asked, 'what does a player do for food?' The answer my friends is what we have grown fondly to call ' the spread.' This is what they lay out for us to eat around 5 o'clock after we hit batting practice during our hour or so break before we have to go back out for the game. At home, our clubbie conjures up a hot entree' for us normally in the likes of mac n' cheese, sloppy joes, chicken sandwiches or taco salad. This is a set menu that is repeated every home stand on a 4 game rotation. On the road we aren't so lucky; given there are no ovens or microwaves in the visiting locker rooms, we are thrust into the world of PB& J, raisins, cheese crackers, pretzels, granola bars, apples, and oranges. But unlike the home games where this meal changes every day, for the road games we get the same 'spread' for every single game, every single night, throughout the entire season. Now I don't know about you, but after awhile you learn to just eat because you need to as opposed to liking it. Throughout the seasons I have learned to try and mix it up as much as I can. One day I might mix the grapes with the pretzels, and another the crackers with the raisins, and at times I might even hold my head high in view of my 'Chef Boyardee' abilities to keep such a stale meal fresh, but the one thing that I can't escape...the PB&J. It's the no questions asked, main dish of our meal on the road. 70 days of 'the spread' does wonders to your taste buds (and also your waste line), but in the end it's just another part of what makes this what it is and I'm grateful for the free meal. But for some reason I just hear my mom in the back of my mind asking me if I want rectangles or triangles in my lunch box that day....

A Pair of Batting Gloves

Sunday night was an extremely sad reminder of the business that the game of baseball at this level has become. One of my best friends in our organization called me into the hallway following our double header and told me that he had been released, and I was crushed. This is a guy who I have played with since we both got drafted sharing over 200 games, hundreds of hours on buses, and including portions of 3 different seasons. The stories and memories that he and I have can only be understood in a way that good friends can. I'll remember the way he hustled, the way he believed in himself, and his heart for playing the game the way it is supposed to be played. When a player gets released it's kind of like a death in our baseball 'family.' They fly out the following day and because of how players are from all over the country and the world, many spend the rest of their lives never to cross paths with one another again. The past few days I have thought a lot about how that isn't much different from real life. We don't know the day or hour when either you or loved one is called into the 'manager's office' to be told that your time is up. I had just had dinner with my friend the night before, and had hit with him off a tee that very day...and now he is gone. When I got to my locker the next day, I found several bats and a pair of batting gloves that he had left me. I wore them yesterday in honor of him and to carry on the dream that he had left behind. Isn't that what we are doing here in life, carrying on from the ones who came before? It makes me wonder how will I have lived with the time I was given, what kind of legacy will I leave behind, what will I have left behind besides just a pair of batting gloves...

I'll miss you dear friend!

Life on a bus at 3 AM

Ahhh....the bus. A word that every minor leaguer knows all too well. Of the 140 games that we play each season, 70 of them are on the road. Normally a road trip lasts about a week, and you will play about 3-4 games in two different cities before returning home. Just in case you were wondering, that doesn't mean sleep in the hotel and then start the return trip the following morning....that would mean another nights cost with just under 20 rooms to pay for. No, we bring our bags from the hotel to the field the night of the last game, and following the game we shower and pack our baseball bags and then drive through the night. If you aren't used to sitting in a bus seat for a lengthy period of time, trust me, it never becomes something you look forward to. But over time, you get used to it and it almost becomes a sanctuary. Where else in life do you have hours upon hours to read, write, listen to music, hear sermons, and just think peacefully and not feel like you have to go get something else done? Some guys play cards, some sleep, others watch movies on their labtops, and the rest do whatever they know how to make the time pass faster. Every league is different but most trips average around 6-8 hours. After a game it takes a little while for the bus to settle down, especially after a win, but eventually around 1 or 2 AM most guys have fallen asleep. I have seen through numerous trips that I can sleep until about 3 AM and then my eyes open, wide awake. I can't really explain it, but I just have come to expect it. If I had to pin point some of my fondest memories of this whole experience it would be in the wee hours of the morning on a minor league bus. With the low growl of the bus traveling down the near empty highways setting the stage, I have written some of my best journal entries, read through countless books, spent time fervently praying and just simply staring out the window to let my mind wander in thought. Just so peaceful...except the time we drove from Casper, Wyoming to Idaho Falls, Idaho and our bus driver bet our manager that he could cut a whole hour off the trip. Cutting corners on mountain curves hitting tree limbs along the way, two wheel near spin outs on changing highways, and more left our entire bus wide-eyed and scared for the entire night. Oh...and he won the bet! A few adventurous encounters with tire blowouts have left our entire bus in the middle of nowhere waiting on a wrecker on the side of the highway. Imagine a team of guys outside the bus, sitting in the trees near the woods at 2 in the morning, almost the perfect beginning for a new horror film! Well, the stories are endless but the memories sure are sweet. Some might say the bus is the worst part of playing professionally, I just might disagree...

Host Family

Of the many experiences of Pro Ball one of the best is living with a host family. Throughout my baseball career I have lived with 4 different families over the course of 6 years. Instead of living in an apartment in a foreign city, you are thrust into a family that integrates you into their lives utterly. From Utah, Kansas, Texas, and Michigan one is able to experience the culture of an area of the country so much better through the eyes of those who live there. Whether it is spending a day on Lake Michigan, going to hockey practice, or just going to eat after one of my games, I definitely don't see where I live as just a place to lay my head. It's the people that make life what it is! This year I am living with the same family as I lived with last year, Bob and Lisa Bean with their twins Carter and Chloe, (as well as their two little dogs, Lulu and Cici). Growing up I always wanted to be a big brother, and so I have really enjoyed the thrill and responsibility of living with 9 year old twins. The Bean's love and support is amazing, and over time you begin to feel like you are apart of their family. For Easter lunch I went over to Lisa's grandmothers house along with 30 members of their extended family. One thing that I asked my teammate and roommate Jordan Pratt last night was, "how many people have you gotten to know that you never would have because of the game of baseball?" It's unbelievable if I stop and think about it, but it also makes one ask the question why do I get to experience all of this? Minor league baseball could be viewed as just a quick stop on the way to the big leagues but I feel that is so much bigger than that. At the end of the day, I hope I am not just remembered for what I did on the field, but for all the relationships I made and the people I grew to love!

Opening Day!

I will remember staring at the teams last week, reading through the names slowly, one by one...and finding mine on our Michigan team! I get to still do this, and I couldn't be more thankful. In the circus of days that followed, we packed up our gear, made arrangements for getting our cars home, flew to Michigan, drove from Detroit to Midland, practiced for two days, met our boosters, received all our uniforms and gear from our team, got settled in our host family's homes, and then drove down to Dayton, OH for our first series! To say that it was a little crazy is an understatement. But as baseball players, this is what the early morning lifts in the off season is for, why we spend a month training in Phoenix, and why we pack up and leave all our friends and family behind for 6 months. To play baseball under the lights with fans in the stands and with something on the line. Now of the 140 games we will play over the next 152 days, there is one that stands out among all the rest. One that no matter how long you have been playing, the butterflies still get you, Opening Day! There is a quietness in the locker room before the game, a nervousness, an excitement that has been building for months now. No matter how you played last year, what your stats were, what team you were on, or if you were injured, this is a totally new year. Nothing of last year or years matters now, it is just this year. And something that makes Opening Day special, is that every team is undefeated, every pitcher has a perfect ERA of 0.00 and every hitter is hitting 1.000! I like the idea of new beginnings, of redemption and feeling new again. If a player looked back and always remembered his failures of the past then it will lock him up to succeed to his full ability in the now. I wonder if there is something deeper there than just a baseball season? Something that is inside all of us, where we desire to feel new again? What if that was possible to have a new 'season' of life? I believe there is...

For One More Day

As Spring Training inches closer and closer to when the teams break camp for the season, there is that certain 'day' when a player learns of his destiny for the upcoming season. No matter how many years someone has been around the game, seeing the sadness in the eyes of a teammate and friend who just found out he has been released is one of the sickest feelings this game brings. It is inevitable and part of the profession of baseball but even in the business side of this, there are real people with real dreams that end each Spring Training. At the other end of the spectrum, seeing the eyes of a player who made a team who had worked hard the entire off season and fought tooth and nail for every at bat and play to keep a jersey on his back for the 3rd, 5th, or 15th season is special to see. The silence in the locker room that day can cut right through you as guys walk towards the list of teams. My question is where does one's Hope lie? Is it in a game, in a ball or glove, or elsewhere? I know that no matter how long I play this game, one day it will fail me. My arm will lose it's strength, my legs will slow and weaken, and no matter how much my heart still wants to dive around the infield my body will fail me. So my question remains, where does my Hope lie?

Psalm 62:5-7 says "For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress, I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge in God."

My hope isn't in a game, in a decision from the front office of my team, or in my body to carry me through, but in the Lord! I can compete fearlessly, play freely, and know that in the end I trust that God is in control of my baseball career. Realizing that baseball will end one day I play with a reckless abandon out of a grateful heart that I still get to do this...for one more day!

The Fellas...

I was eating dinner tonight with a guy who has played professional baseball for 11 years and we were discussing what it is that keeps guys doing this; what keeps guys around the game, around this lifestyle. There were many factors that we both threw in but there was one thing that trumped them all....the fellas. Spring Training brings guys from all over the world ranging from Japan to Florida and Venezuela to Canada. Accents vary from a fast talking New Yorker to the slow draw of a country boy, lifestyles from living in Compton in California to the flat plains of the Kansas farm land, and languages that include Spanish, Japanese, French, English, as well as a few others. The guys might be as different as the east is from the west, but there is a common thread, a common piece of us that brings us all together...the game of baseball. There is a special bond that is created from being with a group of guys for 180 some odd days in locker rooms, dugouts, buses, hotel rooms, different towns, and many other places that you will go together. The shared experience of minor league baseball is so unique that it is hardly duplicated elsewhere in life. From the wins and losses, to the bus breaking down, hotel rooms not being ready, the pranks pulled in the locker room, or the countless other memories that are built from this experience, it's being with the fellas that make it what it is. Looking back on my two years of playing professionally I am blown away at the amount of things I have learned about people, places, languages, cultures, and life just from the guys I have played with. Baseball might be the game, but it's the guys who we play with that we remember the most. A Hall of Famer was asked following his induction speech what will you miss the most; and with tears in his eyes, he simply replied, "I'll miss the fellas." Whenever that day comes that I have to hang up my spikes I think I'll say the same...

1200 miles of concrete

There is just something about driving across the country. Maybe it's the open road, maybe it's the freedom, or maybe it's the tire and hub cap that shoots across the medium from a blow out on a car going the opposite direction and barely misses totaling your car and ending your trip...and maybe your life. True story. On a trip that consisted of 1200 miles, 3 states, 5 gas fill ups, and a really bad truck stop buffet, it's the experiences along the way that will edge the lines of my memory. Besides experiences, I found myself thinking a lot during my time staring at the concrete ahead of me. Thinking about the off season, Spring Training, my baseball career, my life, people that I care about, and the Lord. Life gets so fast and so crazy that it's just hard to stop, get quiet, and look inward to see where it's wrong and where in my life that I desperately need to ask God for mercy. But on a road trip, you have all the time in the world and you are forced to think. I wonder what would happen if we as people did that more? I wonder if that's why everything around us keeps us from doing just that? Maybe there is a battle playing out right in front of us...fighting over silence. Never thought 1200 miles of concrete would lead to a war, but if staying where you are at keeps you from the quiet then hit the road!

Two bags and a carry on

Packing for Spring Training is rather stressful for me. It can be really tricky, because at any given minute during the season they can put you on a plane to play for another team in the Dodgers farm system. If you have more stuff than two bags and a carry on then you will have to leave it or...ship it. Some of you might say well that doesn't sound so bad, but imagine all the clothes, baseball gear, bats, books, bibles, computer, toiletries, shoes, basically everything you need to live on for 6 months, and fit it into those few bags. It becomes an art and by the time you leave it's a beautiful one at that. Zipping that last bag shut last night was such an incredible feeling since it's finally happening. The stress of "what am I going to forget" or "what am I going to have to leave home" is now over. It's so freeing. Now the only thing left before Spring Training...is the 17 hour drive over the next 3 days to get there! Road trip....1-10 for as far as the eye can see, what do you say now!!!!

Get...Jacked?!

During the off seasons one major goal is to get stronger by lifting weights and staying in shape by running and doing different agility exercises. You work incredibly hard and would be willing to try anything legal to achieve your goals. But throughout this process something that I am beginning have to beef with is a vanilla flavored powder substance called...Protein. This farce promises great rewards in strength and stamina yet I never seem to reap any of the benefits. The less results you see the more you drink, giving your liver and heart all it can take! Sadly, most people believe in the lies and buy more and more bags of it. And, there are more brands and bags of protein out on the market than hairs on my head...wait, bad analogy...but you get the picture. Steroids result because of this kind of bad logic. Thus, I return to Spring Training looking back on my off season asking myself the question, "did all those nightly shakes do the wonders it promised...or did I just waste a bunch of strawberries and bananas?"

Off-Season Pics

Off Season

There are a few phrases that a minor league baseball player learns to love during his career; day off, All-star break, rain out, and off-season. It's not that we don't like playing, but with only two days off a month for six months...let's be honest. So the six months that we aren't playing we basically live a life polar opposite to the one in season. You are home, with friends and family, and back to a somewhat normal routine again. The one thing always on your mind is that in a few months you are going back to the grind so you better enjoy your time off. I would say that I have soaked it dry during the last few months. I went on a WWII tour of Europe with the 'Band of Brothers' group, have been in every major city in Texas seeing friends, been hunting, camping, and have gotten involved in the city of Houston through my church and other various avenues. The most important part of the off-season as far as baseball goes is preparing for the following season. It is completely your responsibility and thus only the mirror can be your judge. I have found that it can only be done with other guys doing it with you; trying to muscle through it alone is close to or near impossible. With weights, running, hitting, throwing, etc., come early March you better be ready. As the season nears, mentally you begin to prepare yourself and also begin the necessary preparations of leaving for 6 months. One of the hardest parts is leaving the people behind that you just spent the past few months getting to know or rekindling the friendship that the time spent away had waned. Regardless of the grind that the minor league life can be, come spring time there is an itch, an almost longing to return to that very life; around the field, the game, and the fellas. It's almost here...