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Spectator "Spring Training."

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It occurs to me that the meaning of Spring Training has changed somewhat for me over the years. As a child and into my early teens, ST was the time to get outside and get my arm in shape to play any sandlot game I could find. Get out early, get in some pickup games, go home for lunch, get back out for some practice, get in the house for dinner and the game on t.v. Basically: play, watch, baseball. That was life. In my teens and up to mid twenties, ST was the time to obsess over my fantasy teams, wether or not the Yankees were yet again going to trade my favorite mid level player for another overpriced underrachieving veteran, and talking trash back and forth with my fellow fans. Now, the start of spring still means obsession with my fantasy team, but it has taken on a whole new meaning. A few weeks ago I told my young son that spring training was set to begin and he asked if he could spring train. After the laughter finally stopped, I found my self reflecting on my own youth filled with those sandlots and saturdays. So, we will spring train. All of us. Some of us will sit in front of the computer pouring through stats, sorting fantasy rosters or talking trash. Some will simply read Baseball America and watch the MLB network to get ready. Others will get out the gloves and balls (perhaps here in the northeast, a little prematurely). Whatever your method, all fans will begin our own spring training at this time of year. I think I'll get out the glove, get my son ready, and head out during the day, and obsess over my fantasy roster tonight.

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