I’ve started to mentally break up The Baseball Project into segments. The first segment is, obviously, Spring Training. For the last few weeks, I’ve read, watched, absorbed and analyzed nothing but baseball. I’ve watched Ken Burns Baseball. I’ve read baseball books about the various players. I’ve read articles about the up-coming season. I’ve even started watching this TV show from the early ’90’s called “Talking Baseball”
Every bit of free time I have has become devoted to baseball, in one form or another. When I think about writing something, I always have my baseball on hand, so I have something to play with while I think. I think about going to Fenway constantly, which I can’t believe spellcheck isn’t recognizing right now. I’m trying to calculate how many games I’ll actually be able to attend, once the season starts. And that’s the thing, the scary thing; the season hasn’t even started yet and it’s already started to take over what and how I think.
I’ve had (another) nightmare about Ty Cobb. How many nightmares can a person have about Ty Cobb before that’s deemed an abnormal thing? I’m at two. And he SCARES me. I haven’t even read his biography yet, though it’s on my kitchen table. Waiting. Waiting for me.
On the one hand, I’m worried for my mental health. I have a constant stream of ERAs and WHIP’s and OPS flying through my head. So many numbers and so many names. I have the whole of baseball (almost two century’s worth) and I’m trying to cram it all into my brain in a two month period.
And you want to know the scary thing?
I’m loving it.