Opening Day

It was a fine day for baseball:

Not really.

But the baseball happened anyway, in spite of the weather. In spite of the fact that Torii Hunter was on the field wearing an Angels uniform. And in spite of the fact that the only Santana in the Metrodome was Ervin "The Other" Santana, also in an Angels uniform and most definitely not a certain two-time Cy Young winner who was SO VERY NOT THERE.

Torii got a standing ovation before the game, and he pointed into the stands and fist-bumped his heart. It was close, but I didn't cry.

And when I heard that a certain lefty for whom I once harbored certain unreasonably passionate feelings struck out eight for the Mets earlier today, I winced, but there were no tears.

I had a hot dog, My Ho kept score, I sang along with the Hormel Row of Fame song. And these new Twins--that speedy one, the one with the unfortunate ears, that guy with the unibrow, the one with the brother, and the pitcher with the big trousers? Well, they went ahead and won the game.

Here's hoping they can do it again sometime soon. Maybe even a few times.

That would be good.