(From 3/26)

I stepped outside the coffee shop and sat down in at a table. I had my pick of them all since no one else was there.

The clear blue sky did nothing to hide the sun, but it wasn’t too hot. Still close enough to spring so heat wasn’t a factor.

How I looked out here, by myself on a somewhat busy block is another thing.

Obviously I was waiting on someone, but it could look a thousand different ways to the casual stranger.

Was I waiting for someone to drop off the next package, a unremarkable duffel bag dropped near my feet as the person continues walking by, never looking back as I move it out of sight and wait 10 minutes before leaving in the opposite direction?

Or simply waiting for a woman on my off-day, still reliving how I escaped the jam that got me through the sixth inning.

“They” say that baseball players are recognizable since we only wear a hat, unlike football players behind a helmet.

But only the superstars are noticed; those with endorsement deals that have their face placed in the view of those outside the stadium, outside the latest edition of Baseball Tonight or whatever fantasy server is popular in the moment.

Professional basketball players are supposed to be easily recognized since you see nothing but their face, but the same thing applies.

I know a guy who’s been in the Association for six years. He’s not a starter, but will play another decade and finish with enough money for his grandchildren’s children to still feel his influence, so long as someone doesn’t do something stupid.

But if he walked into this cafe, he could be another construction worker or night janitor.

A very tall one, but you get the point.