So you’re gonna get buried with snow. Again. Big freakin’ deal. When I was a kid, my father would set us loose in the family farm, toss a rake and gardening spade after us, and tell us it was time to start earning our dinners. At the time, I cursed the man. While all the other kids were playin’ with their Lando Calrissian action figures, I was dusting crops, pullin’ wheat, and trying to avoid the flaming arrows that dad would occasionally shoot our way just for the hell of it. But years later, I’m the only kid from my hometown who grew up to hoist a motherf#$king World Series trophy.
The point of all this? Truck day is less than one week away. So grab your shovel, suck it up, and get ready for the good times.
You hear that sound, moving ever closer, and rumbling like a train in the distance? That’s baseball, kids.