A Baseball Letter

Dear Buddy,

Winter’s end is closer. Bills pile but, oh, done with ’em. Bored? Spring! Birds all over! Got a glover, lover? A lent one. Jersey? Ball? Bats? Field? Games please. Eat on your, a, pork chop, Buddy. Not hard, fatty. Bad news? Dang. Snow’s fine. We’re ready.

Done. Goodnight.

A Boomer Whipple to Jeff Sullivan & Jon Bois, whose twitter game inspired this post.



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With a phone full of pictures of pitchers' fingers, strange beers, and his two toddler sons, Eno Sarris can be found at the ballpark or a brewery most days. Read him here or at October. Follow him on Twitter @enosarris.


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martyn
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martyn

Winter’s end smells of cheese.

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