CLEARWATER –
An eternal blanket of blue tents the fields at the Carpenter Complex. As virgin palm trees sway lightly in line, balls pop into leather gloves. The men are wiry but their limbs are rough, jerking deliberately from point to point. Nothing is fluid yet. Their bodies are still thawing.
But there are smiles. Plenty of smiles.
In years past reporters chronicled the duty and honor of the skilled veterans, how one hurler would arrive before sunrise, climb stairs and engineer his polished body into game shape before even throwing one pitch. Then, in those nascent days of live tweeting, the photos would appear: Roy Halladay is scaling the stairs already.