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Cold night doesn’t compare to hot meal

There are certain privileges that come with being the editor of a newspaper. Often times you get to pick and choose the stories you write and the events you cover.

Such a decision came the other night when I asked sports editor Stephen Dawkins to let me cover the county baseball championship game between Thorsby and Jemison. To me, it was a decision based on nostalgia and one I thought would benefit Stephen.

The other choice was covering the Chilton Auburn Club’s presentation of the Unsung Hero award to former Auburn head coach Tommy Tuberville. Not only did the event offer an opportunity to meet the coach but also included what I would assume was a delicious steak dinner. In short, I felt Stephen would appreciate the dinner more.

He did.

Two times in my career, I worked as sports writer, covering baseball games at points throughout the state. These games had always been fantastic, offering a chance to enjoy a game that I love and, as a bonus, they are often played during the prettiest times of the year.

Unlike football, that starts on hot, steamy Friday nights in August and ends in bone-chilling nights in November, baseball is often played in warm days and comfortable nights.

No such luck Monday night.

By the time I looked at my phone in the bottom of the sixth inning, with Thorsby leading 5-2, and seeing that the temperature was a balmy 46 degrees, I had officially lost feeling in my nose, both ears and my left kneecap.

Simply, I was cold, real cold.

I looked around and noticed those in attendance bundled up in blankets, heavy coats, winter hats and even some in full-body sleeping bags.

Let me remind everyone that it is April, mid-April, and baseball games played in 40-degree weather is simply un-American.

This only goes to prove the privilege mentioned above in picking my assignments is something I should put a little more thought into.