JUPITER, Fla. — “Hell, yeah.”
Travis d’Arnaud actually didn’t use “hell,” but rather a word that even with all my seniority at The Post I cannot get printed for you fine readers.
He had just concluded a Sunday mid-morning batting-practice session at First Data Field and was about to embark on a 42-mile bus ride to Roger Dean Stadium, about to end a 320-day odyssey from scalpel to batter’s box. He was passionately responding to: “Are you elated to be playing in your first game since Tommy John surgery?”
“I’m excited, man,” d’Arnaud said. “I didn’t need coffee today.