I am preparing for my annual stint as the recorder for the River City League's fantasy baseball draft. Tomorrow we'll meet at the Elks' hall for the yearly event.

There are eight teams this year, and all the owners are the nicest of gentlemen, but, by gosh, it is about the most boring four or five hours I spend a year -- worse than a drive to Dallas. This will be, I think, my tenth year. This baton needs to pass along.

Lyman provides me with lists so that I don't have to spell names phonetically, and so I can distinguish between the five Fernandez boys.