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Searching for Migas with Boogie Barnett
Posted by Boogie Barnett on Wednesday, March 29th, 2045

My esteemed editor, who will henceforth be referred to as Lenny, because that’s his name and he has asked me, repeatedly, to stop referring to him as Two Scoops (because he’s a sweetheart. Get it?), told me that I can update my blog through their online platform anytime I want. He also told me that I should want to do that at least a few times per week because it is a desire that I am contractually obligated to have. I didn’t read the contract, so I will have to take Lenny’s word for it.

Lenny says that the purpose of this blog is to give its readers an insider view of the life of a ballplayer in the WML. It’s good to have direction. I should, however, point out that as a WML ballplayer, I don’t have much of a life. In the social sense.

So, then, let’s talk for a bit about the grind. Currently, the grind is an 8-10 hour bus ride from Orlando to New Orleans. It’s a nice bus. We have screens built into the back of each headrest, queued up with 1TB of movies. Action, comedy, suspense, drama, historical, musicals, you name it. Pick your poison. I can’t watch movies in a moving vehicle without getting sick, so, I’ve opted to don my blackout sleeping mask while relaxing to the sweet sounds of Thin Lizzy’s Johnny the Fox. A classic combination that I highly recommend for all your long-distance travel needs.

We’re roughly 3 and a half hours into our journey. In Tallahassee. It’s a chance to stretch our legs and as a 6’7” tall drink of water, I could’ve used this two hours ago. It’s also an opportunity to grab a bite. We’re hungry. Athletes are always hungry.

Our pitching coach, Marty Chevalier (pronounced shaw-vol-yay), who in addition to being a patient expert in the fine art of hucking a baseball, is a dead ringer for the classic thespian Morgan Freeman, has selected Bird's Aphrodisiac Oyster Shack as our lunch spot. It’s a curious selection. We’ve teased him about the choice mercilessly. But, in his infinite wisdom, he has proved himself to be clutch once again – I had the grouper sandwich. It was fantastic.

Note: We got our first game scouting report during lunch. I’ve attached it to this post. These numbers guys ain’t fooling no one. My boy Steve Rose is way better than Trash Boatright. Those 26 homers he put up last year were a fluke. Maybe our resident stats nerd is working a motivational angle. Hard to say. I try not to talk to him much because I can’t understand 90% of what he says. I throw balls for a living, so not a lot going on upstairs.