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Baseball, Berries And Hope In Florida

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By STEVE OTTO

sotto@tampatrib.com

Published: February 24, 2009

As surely as winter takes another trip across the northern tier of America, the signs of spring already are blossoming in Florida.

Over the weekend we drove out on U.S. 92 just outside of Plant City. I thought it would be fun to stop at the Parkesdale Farms store where they sell those great strawberry shakes.

The parking lot was jammed and the line of snowbirds in plaid shorts and black socks seemed to stretch all the way back to Plant City. Reluctantly we kept on going and stopped at a roadside stand a mile down the road and picked up a flat of strawberries to take home to tide us over until the Strawberry Festival gets going Thursday.

There are other signs of spring. None stir you more than this week's opening spring training baseball games. If there is any way you can get out of the house or office and make it out to a game - whether or not you even like baseball - you need to do it.

Dreaming At The Ballgame
Spring training is for people like me, who find analogies with life and annually point out that baseball is a microcosm of our existence.

Baseball is, of course, timeless. There are no clocks. "It ain't over 'til it's over."

And in the first glimmers of spring in Florida, baseball is the promise that dreams bring. Raw talent suggests a wining season, and reality is months away.

For a moment you forget that the lords of the game have allowed greed to stain the sport. You can almost forgive the young athletes, who have cheated and dragged the game off the sports pages onto pages usually reserved for corruption and crime.

It's spring, and like the response to a stimulus package you don't want to look at too closely, all you really want to do is grab a hot dog slathered in mustard and dream of what can be again.

Your Ottographs

It was a mixed bag of letters this week. Some of you were unhappy that I wasted space with a flippant column about Facebook, a social networking site, while others complained that I took a serious turn with a column on a family facing the loss of a home. Oh, well. Here are two of your letters:

•"Steve, I joined Facebook at the invitation of my wife's cousin," wrote Steve Hodachok of Russellville, Ark. "To my surprise, I got the following message: 'Hello, how are you? I was wondering if you have a brother called Robert and your father was called Nestor?'

"Skipping the details, I answered, and yes we were related. He lived in Great Britain, having emigrated from the Ukraine. His great-grandmother and my grandmother were twins.

"This led me to my two cousins living in the Ukraine who I have been searching for since my dad died. One of the cousins lives in the house that has been in the family since before the Bolshevik Revolution."

•Less happy was Zea007, who wrote about Sunday's column.

"Your article depressed me even further. I know deep down inside you are a good, kind-hearted, jolly kind of fellow, but the last thing any of us need right now is an article like the one you wrote today.

"I am not sure what kind of justice you did for those who write you and weep openly. Silly me.

"I already know you cannot fix me, the economy, get me a job, pay my bills or any of those other things I must tend to now that I too am without a job. You could, though, have lightened my heavy heart and have written something positive or uplifting. You failed."

Keyword: Otto Graphs, for more of Steve Otto's musings.

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