This is the last in a long line of coastal locales I've visited while attached to the Submersible Death Trap. It's a line that begins in Guam and stretches through England, Greece, and Gibraltar, as well as the American ports of Norfolk and Fort Lauderdale. And of course, it criss-crosses Mayport more times than I'd like.
It's ironic that this should be the last liberty port I visit in the Navy. Four decades ago, my father's service in the Air Force ended with a discharge from Patrick Air Force Base, which is just down the road from here. I mentioned this to him when we spoke earlier. He also asked me what my number was; when I told him it's down to forty-five, he replied, "good. Nice, round number." I also had a good conversation with Mom, and both parents looked forward to my imminent return to the ancestral home in the near future.
I've been reading a new mailbag from Bill Simmons this afternoon, and he mentioned more than enough reasons why April is the greatest of the twelve months in the sporting calendar. But he left out one event of particular importance to me: the Frozen Four. I still intend to watch next Thursday and Saturday, even though the Big Red didn't quite make the cut. Not until yesterday morning did I discover that Bemidji State had taken down Cornell 4-1 on Sunday in Grand Rapids. I thought that the Big Red had a decent shot to reach the showcase in the capital, after Bemidji stunned Notre Dame. But all credit to the Beavers for going through; I'll be rooting for them in Washington.
And now it's on to the Final Four. I have no partisan interest, but I have the feeling that Connecticut will do as it did in '04 by taking both the men's and women's crowns.