And so the Grapefruit Season begins (but I'm still angry)

The Chicks - formerly the Dixie Chicks - once sang a ballad called, "Not Ready to Make Nice." It summed up their lingering anger eight years after the Country Western music industry ghosted them for criticizing George W. Bush's invasion of Iraq - a fiasco that looks even more cringeworthy today, especially as these plastic cowboys leap forward to venerate the brave antiwar dissidents in Russia. 

Well, that's how I still feel about MLB and the lockout that filled this winter with crass negativity. 

For 100 days, we watched in horror as MLB's owners straddled the edge of the abyss, seeking to squeeze more profits from the game - money from us fans, whom they  regard as a giant, golden teat. 

After all was done, they finagled a flash mob spring training and a "regular season," with another tier of playoffs, of course. And today - with full, flag-waving pageantry -  they'll pretend it never happened. But it fucking did. 

This rich, fat assholes put a loaded Luger to the head of America and said if they didn't get their way, they'd put a bullet into Opening Day. They had no problem threatening the storied calendar of baseball - traditions they long ago monetized into vast, unimaginable wealth. And why? Because they figured they could get away with it. 

From Kristie Ackert's Twitter  

Well, I'm not ready to make nice. 

I suspect the Yankees today will find a full house in Bradenton, a charming little park where the entire right-center field is a Tiki bar of people vaguely aware of an ongoing game, guzzling spirits over table placards that say, "BEWARE OF FALLING OBJECTS." For them, it will be business as usual, and I wish them all blue skies and short lines to the beer tent.  

But I'm still angry that three weeks into March, we still have no sense of a team.

We don't if Brett Gardner will return, if Luke Voit will be traded, if any of our pitchers are healthy, and whether anybody will be able to throw three innings by opening day. 

Well, here's today's roster. Do what you wish with it. My suggestion: Print it out and use it to wipe your ass. The Chicks said it well...

Forgive? Sounds good

Forget? I'm not sure I could They say time heals everything But I'm still waiting I'm through with doubt There's nothing left for me to figure out I've paid a price And I'll keep paying I'm not ready to make nice