It's deep winter in the northeast. The Giants are out of the playoffs (who cares, really), with the Pats following suit just a week later (tragedy!). We won't mention the lowly Jets, who are to football what the Royals are to baseball, except with a budget. So what does all this mean? It's fantasy camp time!!
That's right - for a measly 5K (or thereabouts), you can hobnob for 6 days with your favorite ex-mediocrities. With the Red Sox, that means Dick Drago, Rick Wise, and John Curtis (they're kidding, right? John Curtis!??! He played for the Sox for like two years back in the mustache years, when 87 wins was a nice season). If you're lucky, you might catch a glimpse of Dwight Evans (but only if you are well-behaved during rest hour). The Yankees don't offer any names or guarantees, you have to pony up your cash with the expectation that the storied franchise will provide someone more shag-worthy (fly balls, that is) than Kevin Maas or Butch Wynegar. Either way, you get to keep your hat and shirt, play on a regulation major league diamond, and throw back blue plate specials with someone you think might have spot-started for the team of your childhood, if only you could remember what position they played.