A number of players are already in Mets camp even though the official reporting date for pitchers and catchers is still four days away. The beat writers are on the scene in full force, waiting anxiously for the next player coming off a disappointing season to fecklessly declare that he is in the best shape of his life (ITBSOHL). I'll admit to a bit of jealousy, though. The beat writers have warm weather and real baseball; I'm still chipping away at the sheet of ice that formed on my driveway after so many snowfalls. Meanwhile, the print deadline for the Amazin' Avenue Annual rapidly approaches.
As it should happen, we happen to be four days from spring training on the same day that Lenny Dykstra, himself a number four, celebrates his 48th birthday. Personally, I prefer to remember the guy who once drew 107 walks and stole 105 bases in a minor league season, not the unscrupulous numbskull who, through his own dimwitted actions, now finds himself morally, intellectually, and financially bankrupt.
In my mind and within my memories I have no problem maintaining Nails and Lenny as separate entities. It's better that way.