Wow. LIVE FROM FORT MYERS! MUST-SEE TV! . . . Curt Schilling leading the charge out of the clubhouse for the ceremonial single lap around the warning track . . . Doug Mirabelli belching . . . Pitchers standing on the mound, in line, running to cover first base as a coach hits fungoes to the right side . . . Tim Wakefield stretching while Don Orsillo and Tom Caron stretch to find words to fill the empty action.
"Stretching on stretching? There will be a lot of that," admitted Caron. "But nothing says spring training quite like seeing Tim Wakefield field a bunt for the first time."
Poor Announcer Boy and T.C. By noon today, they're going to wish they were doing live commentary of the annual Memorial Day parade in Groton, Mass. There would be so much more to talk about. They should bring back Dave Maynard to help.
Trust me when I tell you that you have not lived until you've seen a solid hour of PFP - pitchers' fielding practice. This promises to do for television what 38 Pitches did for the blogosphere.
"I think Red Sox fans have clamored for PFP for decades and I'm just happy to be part of this history now," said Caron.
When I was a kid, in the early days of America's space program, our teachers would gather us in the gym any time there was a rocket launch scheduled at Cape Canaveral. Mercury missions. Gemini missions. Alan Shepard, John Glenn, Gus Grissom. We'd gather every time an American was about to go into outer space. We'd sit on the floor and stare at the snowy screen of a black-and-white Zenith while Mrs. Roache continually adjusted the rabbit ears in a quest for better reception. Invariably, the launch would be put on hold because of technical problems and we'd sit for hours looking at a lonely rocket, wondering what Shepard was thinking as he sat in that tiny capsule.
That's what this is going to be like. Watching the Florida grass grow.
