TGIF

1. It was dark and rainy all morning and now the sky is blue, the clouds are white, and the sun is shining. Hello, weekend!

2. I saw a two-car funeral procession go down 8th Ave. today. That made a little sad.

3. I'm excited to see Starlin Castro play for the Cubs at some point this season. We haven't had a young played promoted like this since Felix Pie. I'm hoping things go differently with Starlin.

4. And how cool a name is Starlin Castro?

5. This tweet from Keith Law cracked me up: "Carlos Gomez" is a Spanish phrase meaning "Willie Mays Hayes." (If you know baseball, it's funny.)

6. The Beatles & Wu-Tang mash-up album is amazing.

7. 99.99% of girls don't and never will understand sports.

8. I could name specific examples for #7, but that'd be rude.

9. Evan Turner's 40ft buzzer beater today is why March Madness is amazing.

10. The only thing better than Turner's shot was Thad Matta (Ohio St's coach) running towards the Michigan bench, pumping his fist, and yelling, "THAT'S WHAT I'M MOTHER FUCKING TALKING ABOUT!!!"

11. I'm sorry for cursing in my blog, Mommy.

12. Scouts have said the ball coming off Jason Heyward's bat sounds like a young Ken Griffey, Jr. or Albert Pujols. That's scary.

13. Can you tell I like baseball just a little bit?

14. And can you tell it's 3:30 on a Friday afternoon?

15. I started running again this week. It's a slow and steady process for me and my friend Asthma.

16. The SEC tournament being in Nashville has made traffic crazy. The only thing better than driving in a city of Southerner's is adding 30,000 more Southerner's for the weekend.

17. I had 8th row tickets to the John Mayer show in Louisville tomorrow and sold them to make a little cash. I kinda wish I going now that the weekend is approaching.

18. I'm not sure I'll ever hear the word "situation" the same after watching Jersey Shore.

19. I think I tweeted half the stuff I'm thinking of to say, but you're gonna read it anyways, so who cares?

20. I bought The Wire box set this week. I have only seen season one prior to this purchase, but the library was taking way too long to get season two to me; I couldn't wait any longer. I hope I love it.

21. I'm making it a point to try and read more books. When I say more, than means read books in general. I read the Kite Runner and it was great. Now the only problem is I'm four issues behind on ESPN the Magazine.

22. "Daughters" on the John Mayer trio album makes me angry. That song is so tragically over-played and that version is so tragically bad.

23. "Funny what seven days can change. A stand up n*#@$@. Now, you sit down to aim," might be my favorite Jay-Z lyric. Not because it's poetic or thought-provoking, but because anything involving a guy sitting down to pee is funny.

24. I have to go to the bathroom.

Is this heaven? No, it's Iowa...

On Facebook this week, my sister’s college roommate asked a guy I went to elementary school with how he knew the Moles family. (Neither of them are probably aware that this conversation showed up on my news feed, but I enjoyed watching the exchange.) I haven’t talked to this guy since fifth grade, but his response to her asking about me was, “I went to elementary school with Brian and I know through Facebook he loves the Cubs.”

Baseball is a part of me and always will be. Even people I don’t communicate with know I love the Cubs, though Facebook does give me a platform I didn’t have ten years ago. When people ask me my dream job, my first answer is always second base for the Chicago Cubs. Ryne Sandberg was my favorite player as a kid and his job will always be the one I want.

Baseball is the greatest game on earth to me. I know most of the country finds it boring and too slow, but that’s what makes it perfect. Whomever invented the game (no one truly knows who the inventor is), along with a few very slight and helpful changes made here and there over the years, knew what they were doing: to align the diamond so a ground ball to a defender would, in most cases, create an out, but if that ball is hit in the hole or slow enough, rewards the speed of the base runner; to make basic outfield dimensions so a sacrifice fly, in most cases, creates a play at the plate, rewarding either the base-runner’s speed or outfielder’s arm.

The game is perfect to me. People often make fun of the game for being steroid-troubled, but that matters very little to me. Yes, I agree taking steroids and growth hormones are illegal and should not be done, but look at what they did for the game. The summer of 1998 was one of the most fun baseball seasons I can remember. Sosa and McGwire going head-to-head to break Roger Maris homerun record, and being friendly about it the whole way, brought hundreds of thousands of fans back to the game. We all knew then that McGwire was taking something, but we didn’t care. We care now because it’s easy to forget how much we enjoyed something we’re now sour to (McGwire’s day in front of Congress didn’t help our good memories of him stick around either).

The season starts three weeks from Sunday and I can not wait. Can it get better than a three-day weekend with family for Easter and the baseball season starting Sunday evening? I’m not sure it can (Well, it could if the Cubs and Reds were playing instead of the Red Sox and Yankees, but I understand that move…sorta).

Here’s a story Buster Olney posted yesterday in his daily blog on espn.com. It represents all that is great about the game of baseball (after you read it, we can all go watch Field of Dreams):

A couple of years ago, I was cleaning out some old trunks in the basement and found a familiar small tan box that I had kept in a desk drawer as a kid. Originally, it had housed a fishing reel that my grandfather had given me, but in time, I took out the rarely used reel and replaced it with a keepsake that didn't quite fit in the box, lightly bowing out its top and bottom.

On Sept. 29, 1974, the Expos played host to the Philadelphia Phillies at Jarry Park in Montreal, and among the 23,326 fans that day were the members of the Central Vermont Little League. We boarded a bus that morning, and I carried with me that baseball, and a mission: I wanted to get Willie Davis' autograph.

I was crazy for the Dodgers and Davis had played 13 seasons for Los Angeles, and some of my first baseball cards were of him in a Dodgers uniform. Before the 1974 season, he was traded straight-up to the Expos for reliever Mike Marshall. But to me, he was still a Dodger, and wore the same uniform number that I did -- No. 3 -- and I went to Jarry Park that day devoted to the idea that Davis would sign my baseball.

But as with most things in life, I really had given no thought to the question of how that would happen before we all settled into our seats on the third-base side, about 25 or 30 rows behind the Montreal dugout. Our family was chained to our dairy farm by the twice-daily milking cycle of the cows, and I had been to only one other major league game, at Fenway Park in September 1972, and I never even thought of procuring autographs at the time.

And besides the questions of how to best position yourself for an autograph -- Along the foul lines? Near the outfield wall? -- I was a shy kid, and major league baseball players to me were nothing less than gods; to ask someone like Willie Davis for an autograph, for me, was like the Cowardly Lion approaching the Wizard of Oz for a wish. I was completely overwhelmed, which is why I remained rooted in my seat before the game, and then right on through the first six innings.

I do recall specific moments in that game, such as Ken Singleton launching a first-inning grand slam, something he remembered clearly when I asked him about it many years later. But mostly I sat in my seat and tried to summon the courage to go to the railing behind the Expos' dugout and ask Davis for an autograph.

Now, 36 years later, I know that the notion of going to the edge of the dugout during a game and asking for an autograph is completely absurd, out of the question, a nice way for you to be intercepted by security. But at 10 years old, I had no idea that there was autograph protocol. I figured if a player had a free moment, he would sign a baseball. This is what my expectation of a benevolent god was at the time.

The Phillies batted in the top of the seventh. The records show that Del Unser grounded out to first base to end the inning, and then as the Expos ran off the field, I made my move, bouncing down the aluminum steps of the grandstands and reaching the railing quickly, just as Davis approached the steps in front of me.

I probably said something along the lines of "Mr. Davis, can I have your autograph?" and extended my baseball and a pen.

And Willie Davis reached up and signed my baseball, in a swirl of blue ink.

I turned around and there was a line of kids forming behind me, but Willie Davis was gone, off to do his work; in fact, the play-by-play record from that day shows that he led off the bottom of the seventh.

When I got home, I took the reel out of its case and replaced it with the ball that Davis had signed, where it remains, his signature faded.

I never spoke with Willie Davis again, never met him in person. But on at least one day, he made a dream of a 10-year-old kid come to life, fulfilled hope, and I presume there were many moments and days like that for him. What power he had in his life.

Willie Davis passed away Monday, at the age of 69.

The magic and the misery come and go so easily...

1. I told Jeff that one of our friends wanted to come over to catch up on some Mayer stuff (Storytellers, etc.). To my delight, Jeff's quick response was, "Oh, racism?"

2. My mom got me a new Colts shirt for the Super Bowl. I can never wear it again on a game day. I'm paranoid like that.

3. "The golden opportunity you are seeking is in yourself. It is not in your environment; it is not in luck or chance, or the help of others; it is in yourself alone" -Orison Marden

4. I let my thoughts overwhelm me earlier this week. It felt good, in an odd way, to feel such pain, to feel anything really. The joy of letting that pain go is much, much better.

5. Spending Saturday evening with my Dad at an Eric Clapton concert was one of the best evenings of my life. Days like that are the ones you hold onto forever.

6. The Cubs are on television Saturday and Sunday this weekend. Spring Training games can be a pain to watch, but it will make me really giddy for baseball season to start.

7. My shoes are cooler than your shoes.

8. One of my favorite things about Twitter is seeing the Oklahoma Thunder teammates talk to each other. That team has chemistry out the wazoo and will be very, very good in a couple years.

9. My February concert list was pretty impressive: BB King, Buddy Guy, 'Keb 'Mo, John Mayer, Roger Daltrey, and Eric Clapton. I'm semi-bragging and semi-wasting words, but that list is amazing.

10. Mayer played a new song the other night. It sounds like something he used to write. That's an odd statement since he's the same guy, but I think it's true. Here's a link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNhJycRTqVo

11. Trader Joe's microwave brownies are pretty neat (just add water & microwave for a minute) and semi-delicious, but for a dollar more you could get ten times the brownies already made.

12. It was almost a let-down when Hawaii didn't get washed away by a tsunami on Saturday. I'm glad it didn't happen, but the news had it so hyped up.

13. The NCAA tourney starts two weeks from tomorrow. I'm hoping my brackets turn out better than they have the past two years.

14. Gatorade dropping Tiger Woods as a spokesperson might be the biggest sports-marketing move ever. Adidas dropped Kobe after the rape trial, but they are not the biggest player in the shoe market. As both a marketing guy and a sports fan, I couldn't believe Tiger was dropped. He is golf.

15. I told myself I wouldn't write all of these things about sports and John Mayer. How'd that go for me?

16. It's 1:34 in the AM and my alarm goes off at 6:54. I'm gonna grab my five plus hours of sleep and enjoy Thursday.

17. "I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdictless life. Am I living it right?"