It's 11:30 a.m. on Opening Day. I'll tell you what: this feels a lot like Christmas morning. I went to bed last night with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. That might sound a tad over the top. But consider: for the past 42 days we've been writing about the fifth starter and Brad Lidge's knee and Kris Benson's arm and the philosophy of pinch-hitting and anything and everything except real, live, actual, meaningful baseball games.
Today, that changes.
The weather here is, in a word, awful. The skies are so overcast the Philadelphia skyline is barely visible in the distance, just a large silhouette masked by clouds. It's about 45degrees. It is spritzing out. The weather forecast calls for a high of 53 degrees.
Here's the line-up: