“…to the girls and boys and people above. This is the time to fall in love.”

Human beings, speaking generally, are creatures of habit. Godless vagrants and general contractors aside, most people do the same thing every day. Of course, there are fluid variables — birthdays, dinners, concerts, funerals, Labor Days, ski trips, mental breakdowns, trips to the dentist.

During the winter months, baseball ceases to be a constant for the current author and reader. It is there for so many days, then gone. A new routine is established for the time being, and this routine turns to the new constant. So when baseball starts again, it is time to adjust our daily habits.

This Sunday, it will be time to make that adjustment.

We have habits — subhabits, if you will — that take place slightly before, or perhaps concurrent with, this tipping point. For baseball, it may be a cookout, or the purchase of a new cap or jersey. It may just be a small, internal celebration. The latter action is of no less importance than any other, because it is still a signifier of something that, at the time, seems like the most important thing happening.

The entrance of spring — speaking in terms of the calendar, at least — isn’t always apparent here in the middle west. But no matter the weather, baseball is its own barometer. Baseball doesn’t give a shit about what the weather has to say. When it comes, it’s spring again.

And so, to mark the official official beginning of spring, I listen to the song embedded below. It’s not the most basebally song — in so much as it doesn’t even reference the sport and the video features golf (the fact that this video may deserve its own post is not lost on me). It’s not even a terribly good song. But this is my subhabit. And since I won’t be “seeing” you until games have already started, I’m sharing it with you today.

Presenting the vocal stylings of Mr. Biz Markie:

MINNEAPOLIS, Minn. — The NotGraphs Investigative Reporting Investigation Team has obtained a leaked photo taken today at Target Field that clearly shows the Minnesota Twins are in possession of some kind of shitty-weather deflection device, and have been employing it at their facility throughout the winter.

The photo — which shows green grass, clean dirt, and dry seats — is in stark contrast to ground seen in any other part of the Twin Cities of Minnesota. Minneapolis residents have dealt with blizzards, school closings, icy rain, snowy ice, rainy snow, icy highways, snowy highways, roads with a  layer of snow atop a layer of ice, and roads with a layer of ice atop a layer of snow all winter, yet Target Field seems to have proven unencumbered by these events.

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I have no predictions, but I do have the ability to use Google’s Image Search.

The following are ten depictions of baseball superimposed on the 9000-series of the BlackBerry phone line, otherwise known as the Bold.

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If you follow college basketball (or even if you don’t), you may have taken part in the American tradition of filling out an NCAA Tournament bracket. There will come a time, if it hasn’t already happened, when your bracket will become busted, and you will lose interest in said tournament.

When that time comes, take solace in the following project I have worked very hard to create. It is a bracket of mustaches, for which to pick the best mustache in baseball. The present author has taken the time to (arbitrarily, as time was a concern) whittle down the candidates to the two finalists, below. Choose wisely, pick your winner, and click the image to reveal the answer.

Nineteen-year-old Miguel Sano was drafted signed as a shortstop. He was then seen as oversized for that position, so he was moved to third base. As the above photo — where he is compared to the 5’10”, 175 lb. Eduardo Escobar — shows,  he may be a little large for third base as well. But Sano’s largeness doesn’t just apply to the baseball field. Miguel Sano is too big for many, many things.

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It gives him power

Fernando Rodney’s plantain

Oh point five five WHIP.

As things ramp up here in the professional baseball world, sometimes folksy folks need a little refresher as to how best consume all of the baseball season. It’s no secret that technology plays a huge part in how we consume almost everything, baseball included.

Though I’m highly-regarded and extremely well-paid for my baseball writing, my background is actually in Information Technology, with years of experience in helping all kinds of users properly use a myriad of devices.  So, to help you kick off the season, I’ve put together some helpful tips and tricks for leveraging technology to expand your enjoyment of baseball this summer.

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Never having visited the state of Arizona for Spring Training, I was initially unsure of what to/what not to wear. Actually, that’s not true. I had 99% of my clothing decided, with one large omission; which hat to wear. As I do not have what one would describe as a rooting interest in any team that plays their Spring Training games in Arizona, I was left in a bit of a pickle. I had the option of wearing a Minnesota Twins hat, but that seemed a little gauche — as the Twins don’t play a game there. I might as well wear a hat stating “I’d rather be in Florida,” which is a hat hopefully nobody owns. My other options were hats bearing either the logos of basketball teams, or golf equipment companies, neither of which seemed appropriate either. So I settled — though “settled” seems perhaps like a word that invokes displeasure in the ultimate outcome — on a hat bearing the logo of the Saint Paul Saints (seen on the right), my local representative of the Northern League of the American Association of Independent Professional Baseball. Though they don’t do Spring Training, wearing their signifier seemed less assuming, a little curious perhaps, but not aggressive. Look at me. I’m just a baseball fan enjoying baseball wearing a baseball hat.

This decision took about three days to complete, and I was happy with it. Imagine my surprise then — no, seriously, imagine it — when I arrived this morning at my hotel in Arizona to find fellow Patrick Dubuque, mostly of NotGraphs fame, wearing a very similar hat (left). Let me assure you that this, while delightfully whimsical, was not planned nor intended.

Details are sketchy as to why Dubuque, who hails from the Seattle area, would wear a hat of an independent team from the middle-west. I have been informed by the subject himself, however, that his decision proved to be less irksome than mine, as he apparently owns only one hat.

This week has somehow turned into Found Week for this writer, but I pass on another gem. Today is Kirby Puckett’s birthday. He would have been 54. Some — perhaps rightly so — contend his Hall of Fame legitimacy. Other — more rightly so — scowl at the off-the-field acts for which he was accused.

Nevertheless, this clip involves David Letterman, and a player that still carries a lot of clout in my neck of the woods.

Let it be known that from this day forward, all my fantasy teams will be labeled the Creepy Pockets.

Vine.co user Carl Skanberg provides a most excellent artist’s rendering of what Jim Leyland ate this morning, and every morning previous.