The sounds of spring

Rain hitting the windows. It's chilly and looks like winter. But not inside; here in my house, it's definitely spring. The voices of Jon Miller and Dave Flemming describing the play-by-play; the crack of bats hitting balls comes through crisp and clear; the voices of cheering fans—music, sweet music to my baseball-starved ears. It's spring training on the radio! The visiting Giants are playing the Seattle Mariners at the Mariners field in Peoria, Ariz. The Giants lead 7-3 in the bottom of the 5th. It's the beginning of a beautiful season . . .

So long, Vancouver

I've spent the past two-plus weeks engrossed in the Winter Olympics, and I've had a fantastic time. Thanks to the twin luxuries of spare time and a new, big-screen, HDTV, I've seen winter sports like never before, and became a fan of way more than figure skating. Like halfpipe, and freestyle aerial skiing, and snowboard cross. And Nordic combined! In fact, all of the cross-country ski events were thrilling to watch—the stamina, aerobic conditioning, strength, and just plain guts are beautiful to behold. I've done a tiny, tiny bit of cross-country skiing, enough to be slackjawed with admiration for those athletes. All of them, all of them . . . the Alpine athletes hurtling downhill at unearthly speeds on two skinny pieces of fiberglass . . . the lugers (and that sad, tragic boy who died before he even had a chance to compete), the bobsledders, the skeleton (too aptly named, in my opinion) . . . curling, such a quirky and whimsical but hugely serious sport that was on TV nearly all the time . . . the skating, of course, figure and ice dancing, always lovely to watch, but didn't this year hold my interest as much as the short-track did, Apolo Anton Ohno with his impish twinkle and his astonishing talent and moxie and the wild and wooly action on the ice . . . The athletes are so fit, so incredibly well conditioned, and they're all amazingly beautiful, healthy, strong; they glow. Inspiring stuff; makes me realize if all of them can train with that much determination and discipline, I can manage to get to my aerobics class at 7 a.m. every day.

And the hockey! I've never watched hockey, never paid any attention to it at all. But this Olympics, I watched a lot of hockey and have become a fan. Where else this side of roller derby can you witness the barely controlled chaos that is ice hockey? Wahoo! Add in the gorgeous images of Vancouver (a beautiful city where I was once lucky enough to ride through on a bicycle trip) and the mountains and water of British Columbia, and all those wonderful Canadians, it was a total treat. I even learned the words to "O, Canada."

Anyway, all this is still swirling around in my head as I gradually come out of the Winter Olympics fog and come to terms with the end of the games. It was swell, I loved watching and agonizing and cheering along with everybody else. And tonight, it's all gone. Good thing baseball starts soon.