Yesterday, I popped into the Yankees clubhouse store on East 59th Street to grab a few pocket schedules–except there were none.

Why?

“There are so few tickets remaining,” said the man behind the counter, “that they’re not bothering to make any.”

Wonderful. I feel so…blessed…to be a baseball fan in New York City. I predict that I will attend anywhere from zero to three games at Yankee Stadium this season.

Wow.

That was a lot of snow, and yet baseball IS in the air…

It turns out that there WAS one more empty barrel in my parents’ basement storage locker. Last week, I brought it upstairs and washed it out. Yesterday, before I went over for brunch, I tossed 50 more of last season’s balls into my backpack. Only 221 more to go, and then my apartment will be (temporarily) ball-free…

A few other things:

1) I learned how to ask for a ball in Romanian. Written phonetically, with CAPS indicating where to put the emphasis, this is what it sounds like: “TEH rogue ah-RUNG-kah MIN-jah”

2) If anyone has snagged a ball from the World Baseball Classic, I want to see it.

3) I love the Superbowl because it marks the end of being-annoyed-by-football season.