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I love spring training.  The games themselves aren’t much to write home about but the experience as a whole certainly qualifies for at least some exposition. 

There’s the weather in Florida, of course.  There’s enjoying the company of baseball fans.  There’s having nothing particular to do all day except for the game, if you want, or the beach, if you feel adventurous.   There’s even the pool if you just want to sit around and read the papers.

But, if you do get bored, there’s always the game.  The game isn’t just hits and runs and pitching either.  It’s more about the whole aura.  The game is just the centerpiece for everything else on the table.

There’re the fans, the silly Grandma’s and Grandpa’s, the kids running around (early) or just taking it easy (later on).  You get to watch them politely ask for autographs and players actually accommodating them with a smile, especially the rookies, who just can’t believe their good fortune.

There are the wise guys too, of course, but in a nice way, who’ll chide you about your team affiliation, especially if the answer is the Mets.  

Everybody is relaxed, the players, the coaches, the umpires and even the fellas helping you find your seat.  As one fellow put it when asked as to his team interest, he thought a moment, gave a little shrug, and simply said,” I’m a baseball fan.”

There’re all the accoutrements of the game too, of course, the hawkers, the pretzels, the beer, the ice cream and the hot dogs. But there is also the green sprawl of the outfield grass, the finely manicured infield, even the signs on the outfield wall.  And it’s all whispering about baseball.

There’re the pretty girls, of course, all gussied up in their hardball finery, shorts and tees mostly that you won’t see on any website, stuff you can see your sister wearing, just the kind of outfits you don’t see at the mall.  They actually have to be pretty so you’d notice.

Best of all, It doesn’t matter who wins the game.  October is too far off to worry about.  Everybody’s still in the hunt.  There’s Opening Day coming up.  They’ll all be 0-0.  And anything can happen in baseball.  The Mets proved that in ’69 and ’86 too (and I even got Roger McDowell’s autograph).  The Giants won it all last year.

You can go to Jupiter and see the Marlins or Cards, and whoever they’re playing, or you can run up to Port St Lucie, about a 45-minute drive from West Palm.  But you won’t escape the Red Sox fans.  They’re everywhere.

West Palm is the best place to stay, even if you’re south of both parks.  It gets you closer to the beach and the airport and all other points south.  If you’re not a beach person, there’s the track or casino down towards Miami. 

Digital Domain Park is a beautiful place to watch a ball game.  You can get in for 5 or 6 bucks and relax on the berm, which is too simple a name for such a beautiful place.  At the Mets park, it occupies the entire outfield, providing a soft sloping green background to all the festivities inside the fences.

You can sit in a box behind home plate for around 20 bucks.  You can park for five dollars.  This is the way baseball was meant to be. 

As to specifics, I got the biggest kick out of seeing Jim Leyland in the flesh, one of my favorite managers of all time.  But I also got to see Magglio Ordonez, a fantasy favorite, and Matt Holliday too.  There was Miguel Cabrera the brute and Albert Pujols the gentleman.  And Chipper Jones showed some star-power moves from yesteryear.

For the Mets, I saw no Jose Reyes, no Carlos Beltran.  K-Rod looked awfully good though.  Jason Bay was trying out some new things at the plate and I was happy not to see him leading with his elbows anymore.  Whether or not that’ll be worth 16 million a season remains to be seen, as does just about everything else in spring training.

A guy in the seat next to me pointed out that the Mets of last year were just two games out at the All-Star break.  And they were the Mets without Beltran.  But they did have Johan Santana, and they got remarkable performances out of some pitchers, especially one with a weird knuckleball, and a first baseman named Ike.

What happened after that was predictable, I suppose, as GM Minaya was on his way out the door and the Wilpons gave him no more money to foolishly spend at the break.  Their sitting on their hands seemed to kill whatever spark the team had shown throughout the first half.  And Carlos Beltran did nothing to slow their long inexorable plunge in the standings.

But it’s a new year and a new management.  The stars are back, David Wright and Jose Reyes, and Francisco Rodriguez too, hopefully a kinder, gentler K-Rod, except on the mound.  A lot depends on Carlos Beltran’s knee holding up, but he has no alternative but to play hard in his contract year.  And Jason Bay can’t possibly be worse than he was last year.

It’s spring and renewal time, a fresh start for all living things, and even the Mets qualify there. 

Everybody talks about the second base problem.  If the worst it can be is Luis Hernandez, that won’t be significant.  Otherwise, the lineup is sound and the defense should be just as good as it ever was.  The pitching situation is a question mark but it’s not the question mark it was last year.

 The risks taken with Young and Capuano were sound ones no matter the result but hope springs eternal and a real fan dreams of something more.    I think there’s a reasonable chance that wishes will come true.

After all, it’s the spring.  We’ll be right there. Watch our smoke.