The Globe's Robert MacLeod reports that Spring Training is everything you'd ever dreamed it would be, and then some.
Not only is it a warm, sunny place devoted almost exclusively to baseball, where men live out their boyhood fantasies, ticket prices remain low, the grass is impossibly green and soft, and all-you-can-eat buffets dot every street corner, but it would seem
that every once in a while major sporting goods companies dispatch armies of magical and benevolent little elves bearing sacks of equipment to give away to players. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and he's got a bag fulla Wilsons.
So that settles it. When I die (which could be any day now, if this snow doesn't let up), please ship my soul to a perpetual Florida afternoon, late February or early March, and let me play soft toss with the boys, with the glove of my choice, for all eternity.