As the calendar creeps closer to March 26 and the start of another baseball season, the annual ritual begins. Not the first pitch ritual. Not the hot dog ritual. Not even the ritual of fans convincing themselves this is finally the year they won’t overreact to every April loss. No, the real ritual is the spring press conference where everyone tries to read tea leaves while the general manager calmly reminds us that baseball seasons are marathons, not sprints, even though the

Day three in Port St. Lucie and by now you start noticing the things you miss when you first arrive — the small details, the subtle changes, the little hints that baseball continues to evolve even if the smell of sunscreen and pine tar still feels exactly the same. I’ve reached the midpoint of my six days here covering camp, and what stood out most today wasn’t a home run or a diving catch. It was intent. There’s a little more purpose to everything, from the way players stret