Yesterday, the first salvo in the PR war for the new CBA was fired, with MLB threatening a lockout if a deal’s not agreed to by next Thursday. Who shot first is telling because ownership knows it has a built-in advantage — casual/uninformed fans will favor them over the players because the former is jealous of the latter — but I sincerely doubt we’ll see an international draft rather than some changes in the new rules regarding IFAs.
This may explain some of the quiet, of course, so I’ll let this lie here — especially since some of the national writers who actually understand law and labor negotiations haven’t weighted in yet.
Back to the original purpose of the post...
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I’m nine days removed from stomach surgery. I’ll be stuffing nothing, just eating sides and in small portions. But we’ll be celebrating my oldest son’s 17th birthday, and not out on the roads in any way, shape, or form.
This is by no means the worst Thanksgiving I will have ever had because I’ll be home and with family; 20 years ago, as I was finishing up my master’s degree in Oregon, I was neither.
So with that, I’ll dispense with the usual Thanksgiving instructions:
• Stay safe
• Show some plate discipline
• Call your mother