The week gone by — Feb. 21

I’m not a particularly religious man, but …

But for some reason, even though I found myself hunting down college games the other day, I watched some of Aaron Boone’s first press conference from Yankees spring training and made a mental note that their first televised game is next Sunday, the opening of services at the Church of Baseball this year didn’t do what it usually does.

At first, I just figured it was because of … well, everything … but when I thought about it some more, it started to occur to me.

Last year, as wonky and potentially foolhardy as it might have been at the time, baseball was a salve. Sure, we couldn’t actually go to the games, but being able to see them on TV — even with cardboard cutouts in the stands, piped-in crowd noise and “virtual fans” — meant that things were sort of how they were supposed to be for a few hours every day.

This year, however, the sight of “pitches and catchers” — normally three of my favorite words in the English language — just made me think of how going to games is just one more thing (starting with getting vaccinated) that’s getting closer, but feels like it’s further away than ever.

But this essay from Michele Catalano brought me back.

“Surely, there will be snow and ice and early sunsets and the drudgery of sloshing through the rest of winter, but the mind works in mysterious ways. “Pitchers and catchers report” signals that the fog of winter will soon disperse, and the crack of the bat won’t be far behind. Soon I will hear my father’s taunts about the Yankees, and I’ll retort with good-natured jabs about the Mets. I’m ready. I’m ready for box scores and hot dogs and peanuts and Cracker Jacks. I’m ready for the injuries and the heartbreaks, the deepest lows and the incredible, soaring highs — the victories pulled out of defeats, the sight of a home run sailing into the summer sky, the shimmering lights of October, casting their glow through so many long nights.”

Can I get a “hallelujah”? Can I get an “amen”?

And while we’re on the topic, I’m just going to keep saying R.J. is an amazing writer until I get tired of saying it … and I won’t get tired of saying it.


I’m not saying the four walls were closing in, but I didn’t just volunteer to go to the grocery store, I jumped at the opportunity.


The route to Austin’s heart is through his ears.

Lindsay has another message for Boris. We’ll see if he heeds this one.

Young Renata was a shameless little capitalist.

I’ll never have trouble following Tony’s advice.

English is Michelle’s second language, and sometime she struggles with it. She shouldn’t worry, though. There are lots of people who struggle with English as their first language.

Savannah is “stuck in the middle” with her husband … and wouldn’t have it any other way. (By the way, she and Chad have to do this so they can report if it’s as awesome as it looks like it would be.)

Rosie gets so excited about the future, she forgets to enjoy the present.

Becky wants everyone who sends her an email to know that it won’t find her well, because no one is doing well.

Pea Green and her family spent the school holidays together at home … for the sixth time since the pandemic began.

Vee would love to get on a plane. Me too, Vee … me too.

Giggles is breaking up with her job.

Looking at old photos has Pamela feeling conscious of her age, and it’s all her son’s fault.

Paul has 50 more thoughts.

If you’re thinking about planning meals in advance, but are worried it’s too much work, Jamie has advice.

Zoe wonders how some people can be so nice.


If you grew up on DVDs, you probably wouldn’t understand.

Sharing domestic labor is important — I won’t claim 51 percent, but I do handle dishes, laundry and clearing snow  — but anyone who can fold a fitted sheet goes above and beyond.

And all that, without falling or knocking over the space-savers.

I don’t know England’s lockdown rules … would he be allowed to go to the grocery store? Because I would recommend it if he can.

That’s not a bad breakfast.

“Somebody made a wrong turn somewhere.”

From seventh to 11th grade, I played trombone at my high school’s graduation ceremony. This is exactly what it looked like.

And I thought moving upstairs to watch travel shows was a clever adventure. Read the whole thread to see what I mean.


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