Sure Signs

Spring will soon burst upon the scene because I heard my first exhibition baseball game on the radio. I didn't know most of the names of those at bat or on base; they are the players invited up for spring training where they can dream of someday catching the brass ring. Occasionally the announcer mentioned a big league player—but not often.

And then there's this weekend's golf tournament on television, reminding me that the clubs in my basement need to be cleaned and readied for the season. Soon I'll go on my annual hunt for comfortable golf shoes, golf balls on sale, a new shirt that isn't so tight that all circulation is disrupted, and a twelve foot ball retriever that telescopes down to six inches.

Soon we'll take our annual trip to New Hampshire for the golf demo day where you can try out all the new equipment—along with their promises to help you hit longer and improve accuracy.

Last year I purchased a Red Sox ball marker and used it every time I played golf. The Red Sox won the World Series. I'm not, in any way, thinking that my use of the Red Sox ball marker impacted the season, but suppose I change ball markers? If they begin to lose do I bear any responsibility?

Two years ago I encased my driver in a Lobstah cover. Last year I simply used the cover that the company supplied—with its logo proclaiming my use. Do I go back to the Lobstah? Does the Lobstah help me chip away the number of strokes I need to hole out the ball? Is it time to find a new cover? These questions require thought, because a wrong move may cost me strokes and I can't afford to give any away.

Another sign of spring—first button of coats, undone.

Fluttering hair.