There are two opening days every spring. The one, of course, where nine uniformed men trot out onto a diamond, toss a ball around, and bore us to death.
And the one that holds some serious interest to all men between the ages of 20 and 75 in metropolitan areas. That's right, the first nice day of the season, where women dig deep into their closets and pull out their "almost-appropriate for the office but I don't give a damn, I want to wear a short skirt and sling-backs today because I'm tired of looking like a polar bear" outfits.
Lunch is eaten outside, on building steps or benches with groups of guys sitting around, watching the girls with their swinging pleated skirts and shapely calves walk by. It's a joyous occasion that holds the promise of more flesh-bearing to come once the temperatures really get going. Summer and cleavage are just around the corner. And then the real ball playing can start.
So, for everyone in the northeast today, go outside, take a look, soak in the sun and the sights. It's only going to get better boys.