Hey, lawyer lawyer! Sue! Sue, lawyer!

For those of you who missed the news, the Owls are ranked second and fourth in the preseason polls by Baseball America and Collegiate Baseball, respectively. We may be headed back to Omaha, not that it ever does us any good.

As I was telling M1 last night, I'm ready for baseball season to start again, and I'm not just talking about college baseball, although I enjoy following the Owls. No, I'm talking about Major League, going-down-the-tubes, steriod-infected, ridiculously budgeted baseball. I'm not sure why I'm so taken with it, since I'm consciously aware that there are major flaws in the system, on both the owners' and players' sides. But I like seeing how much Barry Bonds's head has expanded (due both to ego and "performance-enhancing substances") in the off-season, watching Lance Berkman lollygag his way to a .292 batting average with 128 homers, and keeping track of Curt Schilling's walks-to-strikeouts ratio. I don't follow any team particularly closely—Houston gets attention solely because of proximity—unless you call rooting rabidly against the Mets "following."

I don't have any grand theories about why baseball is so fascinating to me, much less to anybody else. In my case, it might be that it's the only sport that works at my particular speed—slow enough that my brain can process all the necessary information (yes, I understand the infield fly rule, and I can score a game), yet not so slowly that the grey stuff begins to consume itself from boredom (golf, I'm lookin' at you). Maybe it's just that I can't possibly force myself to care about football since there's no team in Nebraska anymore. So bring on the steroids, the infuriatingly sissyish designated hitter, and ballparks with increasingly stupid names. I'll go get the measuring tape for Barry.