My daughter Fred was raised to love Randy Johnson. When he wrecked his knee she kept asking if he was going to get better, and if he was doing alright. One night she even said, “Who’s starting tonight daddy?”

The plan has backfired, however, a casualty of modern baseball economics. Now she wants to see Randy Johnson all the time, but that’s not a viable option. My attempts to explain the situation haven’t worked very well, as she continues to ask daily when we’ll see him pitch again.

Tonight though the situation cracked me up. She’s just started a t-ball league, and on the way home from practice tonight she said, “Am I going to be traded?”