It's baseball season again in Chicago?

I'm not talking about Cactus League games starting this week in the Arizona desert -- you see, Dr. Bee, this post isn't really going to be about sports -- although I'm happy as anyone that I'll have baseball games to watch on TV real soon.

It's slightly above freezing in Chicago, and the snow cover is retreating, but it's still plenty deep in spots -- and yet Youngest Son is trying out for the varsity baseball team. The schedule would make much more sense if Global Warming were further advanced....

If Youngest Son makes the team -- and, unlike last year, he's supposedly been assured that he will -- all three of my sons will have played varsity baseball in high school.

That's pretty amazing for the sons of a guy who didn't get off the couch in high school except maybe, sometimes, to shoot pool. It just goes to show you that Long Suffering Spouse is athletic.

But the tryouts this year are at 5:00am, yesterday, today and tomorrow! That's neither a typo nor an exaggeration: 5:00am. (Last year I was amazed to hear of a 6:00am tryout time, and that was on a Saturday. Obviously, I know nothing about sports.)

Yesterday morning, I struggled out of bed at 4:33am to say good morning to Youngest Son. He was sitting, fully dressed, wearing his letterman's jacket (he's already lettered in football) in the living room, munching a piece of pound cake. I wished him luck. I told him I'd have only one question when I saw him next: What time did the coaches really show up?

"5:03," Youngest Son volunteered as soon as I got home last night. "The head coach arrived at 5:03 and we were inside the building by 5:07." For some reason the school was locked at that hour.... imagine that!

Youngest Son insisted that the full complement of hopefuls was in place by 5:15 except for one coach who was ill. The head coach had been sick last week. (For that matter, Youngest Son was pretty queasy last night -- but, thank heavens, not nearly as awful as last year.)

It was 4:35 this morning when Youngest Son started down the stairs. I didn't get out of bed today. Both Long Suffering Spouse and I mumbled best wishes. We think he responded. (He may still have been queasy this morning: There was still some pound cake left when I got downstairs.)

I thought the idea behind the ridiculously early tryouts was to wean out all but those who were serious candidates to make the team. Things may work out that way, but apparently the real reason why varsity tryouts are so early is that so many freshman try out for their team that every available inch of athletic space is taken up in the afternoons. Youngest Son was pressed into service helping out at yesterday afternoon's tryouts. He may be asked to help again today.

That's a long day. A long couple of days.

But not, apparently, if you really, really enjoy it. And if you really, really want it.

Thus, this post is not about sports... it's about desire and determination. And joy.