Kern: On the Phillies, Clearwater, and the age-old search for hope

Ah, spring training. Pitchers and catchers reporting. Seeing palm trees in February. Or cactus. Catching a glimpse of the next big thing. Or the current biggest things on a team that last year won 71 games, which still was eight more than they got in 2015. The Sixers aren't the only Philly team going through a prolonged rehab.

When I was a kid, and that was a long time ago, I couldn't wait for some glimpses from Clearwater. In part because baseball was still the biggest sport in the free world. Besides, the Eagles stunk in the late 1960s and early '70s. Of course, so did the Phils. And the Flyers were still the newest kid in town. And I didn't really get into basketball until later anyway. But the Sixers were pretty bad after Wilt left.

So ... I always had spring training to get me going. Even if it was only for a month or so, until the games actually counted and the Phils were once more on their way to 90-plus losses. Back then, they were still the team you followed almost every night on the radio. Cable? Surely you jest.

I remember one year Richie Allen (he hadn't become Dick yet) came up to bat in an early game with the bases loaded. I think the Phils were playing the Braves, but it could have been the Toledo Mud Hens. He was my favorite. Well, next to Cookie Rojas. I was too young to understand all the off-the-field turmoil that surrounded the Philly part of Allen's possibly Hall-of-Fame-worthy career. I just knew he could hit the ball like few others, with what I believe was a 40-ounce bat, if memory serves. So he was one of my first athletic heroes. I don't think my dad liked him as much as I did.

Anyway, Allen had missed a large chunk of the previous season because of an injury. Or mishap. With him, sometimes you were never sure. And I did read the papers. So he takes a pitch over this monster-like wall in centerfield, and I'm going slightly nuts even though it doesn't really mean anything. But I guess it gave me hope, that maybe this year would be different despite the fact that it never was.

I told you it was a long time ago.

And that's what spring training is about, really. Hope. Some teams obviously go to Florida or Arizona with more of it than others. But at this point, everyone's still even in the standings. And baseball has shown us that goofy stuff does happen. Teams occasionally do go last to first.

The manager has said .500 would be a reasonable goal. And he's probably right, even if maybe proper etiquette suggests maybe he shouldn't be saying that out loud. But honesty can't be such a bad trait, either. I'm not sure how many fans are that into what's going on at Spectrum Field. At least not yet. In some ways, you almost need a scorecard to keep track of all the new faces. Or even some of the familiar ones. That's how it is when you're where the Phils are in their progression. And that's OK, even if 2011 has faded into the distance.

Maybe it's because I'm older, or because I cover college hoops and that can keep me busy well into March or even early April, or it could be I'm just a realist, but spring training just doesn't get me as juiced up anymore. Perhaps in another year or two it will. And it's not like the Flyers and/or Sixers are completely diverting my attention span.

Experience has simply taught me that a lot of what happens down there doesn't always have a lot to do with what will happen in the six months to follow. Call me a cynic. When somebody shows me something once it counts, that's when I'll turn my head. I can't help it anymore. And that goes for all the other exhibition seasons as well. I've become a 4-for-4 regular-season guy.

The fan in me wants to (finally) see J.P. Crawford and Nick Williams and who knows who else. Because they're hopefully the future. Yet reality tells me that if I see them at all it likely won't be until at least midseason. And I understand there are reasons that happens. But for now, it's not enough. So I'll wait. And wonder. And root that we're still not three years away.

Even when they started off so well last year, we pretty much knew it was mostly a mirage. Don't you hate it when you're right? In the meantime, give me a heavy dose of those kids, sprinkle in enough vets to keep the balance and hope that the skipper's calculations are in the ballpark. Then maybe next year at this time I'll buy in a little more. Or even a lot.

That's the beauty of it. At this time of year, you can let your baseball mind wander. Hey, I'll always have Richie Allen redirecting that curve-that-didn't into orbit. Sure felt good, like everything was going to be all right. And those kind of feelings never get old.

At this age, my mind needs to get to Opening Day first. Try not to hold it against me.