While walking around Eastern’s campus Tuesday, I couldn’t get a song out of my head.

Not realizing how goofy someone looks while whistling John Fogerty’s “Centerfield,” I happily preformed my rendition of the baseball anthem.

And why not? Tuesday felt like it could’ve been Opening Day.

The sun was shining, and the temperature was warm. I walked past someone who looked like they had just spent a fun-filled, beer-soaked and obscenity-laced afternoon in the bleachers at Wrigley Field. I think I even heard some crazy person yell out “crackerjack.” (Come to think of it, I think someone may have just been calling me a “cracker.”)

Slurs aside, just about everything about the day felt like baseball.

And it was appropriate, considering Tuesday was the first day where pitchers and catchers reported to spring training (or as I call it, the time of year where Garth Brooks shows us he still can’t hit or field). The sunny day got me ready for a new baseball season and a new year for my new White Sox (who will find a new way to be out of it in July).

I was all set to take on any Cubs fans blabbing about their improved clubhouse chemistry – even if Mr. Mia Hamm’s former team won a World Series after they traded him.

Simply, it was a beautiful Tuesday.

Problem was, Tues-night sucked.

First, the temperature fell faster than an NBA players’ shorts on the road. Then, the sky began to spit, and pretty soon, the spitting turned to an all-out spewing of hail and rain – hardly baseball weather. It didn’t remind me of baseball season; it reminded me of hockey season.

First of all, like the rainy weather, I was kind of excited when the NHL went away.

Any sport that plays 82 games in the regular season only to keep the worst 3 percent of the postseason needs re-examination.

Fitting, that the night before the 2004-05 NHL season is removed from life-support and is pronounced dead is the same night I am ready to pull the plug on my “no umbrella” mantra.

And, while there may be sports fans that are blood thirsty, skate or Canadian who miss the NHL, I’d rather count the days to first pitch.

Dan Woike, a senior journalism major, can’t wait to hear from Cubs fans. Email him at [email protected] and profess your love for Dusty Baker, Ron Santo, Kerry Wood and goats (or some wacky combination of all four).