Slowly But Surely
Chicago Auto
Show—check. Daytona 500—check. Winter Olympics—check. Now, if I can make it to Thursday, it’ll be
March, when dreams of spring are allowed.
Heck, if I make it to
tomorrow, I can watch the White Sox play the Cubs in Arizona. But the trick is to take things slow. Tuesday, the temperature is supposed to hit
60 degrees, which will tempt me to take the bike out. Only, hold on, cowboy. By Thursday March first, when we get to talk
about meteorological spring, the weather folks are calling for snow, anything
from a dusting to six inches. I don’t
want to end up with sore muscles made sorer from heavy shoveling (although I
went out and bought an electric snow blower that’s just waiting to be tested).
The same goes for the
game tomorrow. It’s only spring
training. If the Sox pound the Cubs,
what does it matter, really? Or vice
versa. I have to remember to pace
myself. Let’s hope Adam Engel gets a few
hits and Carson Fulmer doesn’t embarrass himself on the mound. That’s it.
If they don’t, it’s not even March yet.
Patience, as they
say, is a virtue.
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