LUDIC LOG

Spring training has started.

I don't expect people to share my geekish devotion to baseball, any more than I expect them to pay attention when I point out the inventive hamster-scratch Q-Bert uses in a particular micromoment of an Invisibl Skratch Piklz cut, or to listen to me when I start waxing rhapsodic about Steve Rude's innovative use of realistic anatomy in the early run of "Nexus".

Nor do I intend to go all George Will on anyone and hand down a lot of soporific haw about the grand symbolism of the game. Sure, it allows me to indulge my passion for endless listmaking, but so does organizing my record collection, and without the use of a scorecard. Yes, there's the delightful sense of hope that takes place early in the season, when the cruel, gauze-thin illusion that everyone has a chance to make to the Series is still in play; but that dissipates the very instance you notice that your team doesn't have an N or a Y on their cap. And while it's true that baseball is a pleasing harbinger that winter is fading and spring (and summer, which is the money season) is on its way, there are much simpler ways of figuring that out, such as, say, looking at a calendar.

I'll just say the greatest thing I know today: a week ago, I couldn't listen to a baseball game on the radio. And now, I can.