Mark J. Rebilas/US PresswireI look forward to the spring, when my team is playing ball and the games can generate their own pleasures, regardless of who is wearing the uniform. I look forward to nights of holding my breath and unexpected surprises. I look forward to the image of a white ball against a black sky.I look forward to the spring, and liberation from this winter, with its labor-camp hue of chain-gang signings, each with their shred of rationality or hope but none exceptionally inspiring, forcing me to pound the permafrost for the smallest bite of excitement.