I find myself giddy with optimism, in apparent outright defiance of logic and reason. (Not to mention timing!) I lead the league in feel-good. Still, even after watching Marlins arms battered and bats drowse through a thorough 8-0 loss to the visiting Atlanta Braves on Thursday night.
Marlins starter Ricky Nolasco gave up four home runs, including three in a row in his brief, forlorn outing. He could not have been hit any harder if an angry Kimbo Slice had bum-rushed the mound. Meantime, Marlins hitters struck out 16 times, entering the batter's box blindfolded and swinging lead pipes.
And yet my sense of hope, unlike Ricky's ERA, emerged, shining and dent-free.
No doubt cynics assume a case of delirium. More likely I have simply grown sick of the desolation of our pro teams lately and have convinced myself I see roses starting to sprout in the cracks of concrete.
With due respect to the Bible, sports invented the miracle, after all.
So why not us?
Quoting John Lennon: Imagine . . .
The Marlins, still leading the NL East as a matter of fact, stun the baseball literati by lurking and hanging in the playoff chase all season despite an entire player payroll that approximates the amount of A-Rod's per diem.
The Dolphins (as I noted to somewhat incredulous response in my Herald Web log this week), parlay a 2008 schedule so soft it should be sponsored by Charmin and catapult from last season's 1-15 abomination all the way to a run at .500.
HEAT TURNAROUND?
The Heat, fresh off the NBA's worst record, saddle up a healthy Dwyane Wade, a fully acclimated Shawn Marion and No. 1 draft pick Michael Beasley or Derrick Rose and bounce right back into the playoffs.
And the Panthers, invigorated by a coaching change and buoyed by the law of averages, make the Stanley Cup playoffs next season for the first time since the ice was a-roam with Mastodons. Actually, it was 2000; it only seems longer.
I figure if we cast four lines into the miracle water, we're bound to get at least one nibble, right?
Don't bother me with logic, please. Now's not the time. Too depressing.
Chances are that long odds and starting pitching will catch up to the Marlins, for example. Likely, the Mets and Phillies will, too. Logically, foretelling lasting playoff contention based on a 9-6 start is like surmising a correlation between a tasty wedding cake and a lasting marriage.
But isn't the opposite true, too? Why assume the Marlins are a precipitous collapse waiting to happen? It'd be like a divorce lawyer furtively handing out business cards at that same wedding reception.
This is still the baseball honeymoon, after all, so enjoy. There will be ample time for whatever reality plays out.
Meantime, optimism is free and abundantly available, and the soul can't but be nourished by hope.
Nay-saying is easier, but too common.
For example, Marlin Mike Jacobs ties for the NL lead with six home runs but is dismissed under the heading ''Not For Real'' in ESPN.com baseball writer Jayson Stark's estimation of guys off to surprising hot starts.
Jacobs' loopy uppercut may do him in, sure. Or, he may have set sail on a huge career year. Let's find out together, shall we?
Likewise the team is dismissed. Florida leading the NL East with a league-worst team ERA ''should embarrass everybody else in the division,'' sniffs CBSSports.com baseball writer Scott Miller.
The rhythm of baseball, though, is that we find out gradually. Football is a splattering blast from a paintball gun, every result Armageddon. Baseball's long season is a painting we see develop one small brush stroke at a time.
SURPRISES ABOUND
Besides, is Florida being off to a solid start (despite Thursday night) really any stranger than the worst batting average in the sport (.113) belonging to David ''Big Papi'' Ortiz and the worst ERA (11.57) belonging to C.C. Sabathia?
One other factor supporting fragile hope for this Marlins season:
The NL stinks. All of the really good teams except Arizona reside in the AL. Everybody else in the NL is flawed, including the Mets. So if you're merely pretty good -- if you have some scrap and fight in you and maybe five guys who'll top 20 homers -- you are a contender to be a contender.
Hey, sometimes optimism is founded on your team's excellence, and other times on surrounding mediocrity.
We'll take it any way we can get it right about now.
