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Tomorrow, it will all change. A few hours from now, when the sun shoots its first beam of light Florida-way, eight and one half minutes later gleaming off the frontage of the familiar Panera Bread, baseball will begin anew in Viera. I am, for lack of a better word, pumped. I'm not precisely certain why---it's certainly not because of the roster that will train near that Panera---but that's what baseball does to me. It's not really the Washington Nationals. Even maintaining this blog for over two years, it's never all about the Nationals. It's about baseball, and I love it. And a large part of that is about the Nats. It's a great feeling; it makes me completely forget that I'm foolish enough to be sort of watching Cliffhanger, of all movies, at the moment. I'm too excited to change the channel, or failing that, let go of my television and watch it fall a few thousand feet. But no matter. Baseball's almost back, and I couldn't be happier.

Tomorrow, I'll be back with more episodes of Stupid Cynical Blogger, but for now, I'll leave a parting thought: If one were to reverse-engineer the Atlanta phase of "The Plan," where would you place Nick Esasky, and what does he have to do with Dave Justice?