A light day for the Phillies. With a day off for the minor leaguers, the coaches held a final round of drills to help determine where each player would start the season throughout the organization. Coaches stood in center field timing players through two sprints starting at the left-field foul line. After the sprints, they moved to the infield where outfielders� arms were tested on throws to third and home; infielders took grounders in the hole at short and fired to first; first basemen fielded balls and threw across to third; and catchers tried to gun down imaginary runners trying to steal second. I spoke with a few more people, then walked out of the complex before noon.

With my Lenten sacrifice of fast food, I found myself struggling to figure out what to do for lunch. I wasn�t really craving McDonald�s or Burger King (well, maybe some McDonald�s fries), but at times it�s just so easy. Realizing I hadn�t had pasta at all since arriving in Florida, I tried to find Italian, but not knowing the area, I failed. I probably didn�t try hard enough. Instead, I returned to Don Pablo�s and for the first time in my life had a hostess seat me as a party of one. I�ve never had a problem eating alone, but that�s usually in pizza parlors, fast food joints or at bars. McCabe�s was the first time I took a table to myself and had a waitress serve me, but there I sat myself. I didn�t really have a problem eating alone at Don Pablo�s, either, but I was bored without a magazine or book; I�d left them at the hotel, not thinking ahead to lunch.

After eating, I returned to the hotel for an important date -- with a deck chair out by the pool. Sunday and Monday afternoons were really the only time I took for myself on the trip, other than the evenings, which don�t count as much because I�d worked all day. I put on my bathing suit and suntan lotion, grabbed my magazines and a towel, and plopped down in the sun. When the heat got to me and made me sweat just from being outside, I jumped in the pool for the first time in months and enjoyed it as best I could without anyone to share it with. A mask and snorkel lay by the side of the deep end, with a cluster of nickels, dimes and quarters nearby. Sitting on the edge of the pool, I noticed a quarter eight feet below water in the deep end, and dove in to retrieve it. As a kid, I loved diving for things, anything. One day care provider my mom used occassionally (in fact, I don�t know that I really went regularly to Robin�s, just occassionally in the summer) would take the children to her father�s house in the summer because he had a pool. I remember playing with Brandy, Robin�s daughter who was a year older than me, and throwing our He-Man and She-Ra figures into the pool, where they�d sink. Then we�d dive down and retrieve them. To me, bringing things up from the deep, even if it�s merely an eight- or 12-foot deep pool, was a little link discovering sunken treasure. I�d dream of snorkeling in warm climates, investigating wrecks and caves and uncovering fortunes in coins or jewels. Other than that, I never really showed much interest in pirates. Aarrrgh!

After my swim and a shower, I ordered pizza and settled in to watch the Oscars. I caught the half-hour preshow and was watching as all the stars �took� their seats (though the fact that so much of both the preshow and early arrival stuff inside the Kodak Theater was taped was quite obvious) when Geoff, the general manager of the Lakewood team called and told me to meet him and some others at Bukkets. Geoff was in town for just Sunday and Monday, so I walked over and had a few drinks with him, Jeff Manto, and a few of the trainers and strength coaches. Another uncrowded bar, and the TVs were still set to CBS after the afternoon�s basketball games. Although we talked about it and said we should have them turn the big screen to the Oscars, we never did and instead made fun of Executive Decision while simultaneously amazed that any network would show a movie about an airliner that�s hijacked and the president�s struggle in deciding whether to try to reason with the terrorists or shoot it from the sky. Unfortunately, I think in this day and age, the decision to shoot down a civilian plane that was hijacked would not cause too much uproar. The others agreed.

I returned to my hotel around 10 p.m., just in time to ignore the Cirque De Soliel performance while I changed and got ready for bed. I caught the last three hours, as it turned out, of the Oscars. I jotted down a few notes while viewing:

� OH MY GOD! The Oscars are an unforgetable evening! I had no idea! Thank you, Leeza Gibbons, for pointing that out. I�m tired of �journalists� and �entertainment reporters� taking the meaning out of words and overemphasizing things. Of course it�s going to be an unforgetable evening. Be more creative; find something else to say.

� Julia Roberts looks like a vampire -- and I just watched Interview. There was just something about her makeup during her pre-show interview with Leeza that made me think that.

� There was too much going on during the preshow -- too much jumping from one �reporter� to another, too many bad interviews. Chris Connelly uses his connections as ESPN�s �Unscripted� interview host to be a part of sister network ABC�s pre-show coverage. He throws it to Leeza, who throws it to some chick (an MTV personality, I�m told later by Casey) whose microphone doesn�t work at first as she�s walking along the Walk of Fame. Then we see an assistant hand her another one. The worst interview was Leeza chit-chatting with Sissy Spacek and not asking a real question. Though, I must say, nothing could be worse than Tyra Banks a few years ago, when every other word out of her mouth was, �GIRL!� As in, �Girl! You look fabulous!� �That dress is kickin�, girl!� And, �My God, girl!�

� They should�ve fired the pre-show producer on the spot and brought in a substitute to finish the half hour. Twice, one host threw it to another, but was way off. About five minutes AFTER Leeza�s interview with Julia Roberts, the unknown MTV chick said, �Now let�s go to Leeza Gibbons, who�s with Julia Roberts.�

� Donald Sutherland and Glenn Close doing the live voice-overs? Is this new, or have I just missed it in past years? I kind of liked it, but what must the actors be thinking? Mr. Sutherland, you had no worthwhile roles in the past year, how about MCing the Academy Awards? You�ll get a gift bag!

� Sidney Poitier is a good-looking man. I want to look like he did in Raisin In the Sun so that I can look like him at 75.

� Enya looks older than I pictured. Why I grouped her with Jewel and Dido in my head, I don�t know. Maybe it has to do with the single name. I did picture her with dark hair, though.

� I clapped for Randy Newman. I love the guy�s work. It�s always fun.

� The dead actors tribute. One of my favorite Oscar segments is the montage of clips of those actors, directors, writers, producers, etc., who died in the past year. I remembered it as being late in the broadcast, so I didn�t think I�d missed it, yet I was glad when Kevin Spacey came out and started it with a moment of silence for the Sept. 11 victims. As for the tribute, I don�t think I�d heard of William Hanna�s death (Hanna-Barbera cartoons; the Flintstones); I�d forgotten about Carroll O�Connor and Anthony Quinn. Also, it seemed like a short list this year. Not that that�s a bad thing.

� Robert Redford is SO cool. That�s it; he just is.

� Sissy Spacek hasn�t changed her hairstyle since the movie. Is that her way of giving it extra pub? But then, I did catch Badlands on WGN Monday afternoon, and it hasn�t really changed in 30 years.

� If only I wasn�t alone. Anyone can say, �I called that!� after the fact, but I really did. REALLY! And people can say, too, �Well, yeah, a lot of people said that.� But I didn�t see many of the films, and even if I did, you never know how the academy is going to vote. Anyway, as they read off the nominees for Best Actress, I thought to myself, �It�s gonna be Halle Berry and Denzel Washington.� It seemed cosmical -- the first black best actress and the second black best actor on a night when they honored the only black best actor, Poitier. So, I called that! You can believe me or not, I don�t care.

� Sometimes I hate small-town (or city) news. During every commercial break, it seemed, the Tampa affiliate I was watching would tease, �A Bay-area connection to A Beautiful Mind. After the Oscars. I kept the TV on long enough after the show to see what the connection was: Some local guy once lived next to John Nash for like two months. Holy shit! He�s like, practically Russell Crowe!

� How come Will didn�t tell me that? My friend Will, who works in New York as a location assistant for film companies, told Casey and me about the numerous indoor scenes from A Beautiful Mind that were shot at Columbia, not Princeton. He also said that the Nobel ceremony from Stockholm, Sweden, was actually a ballroom or theater in New York. What he didn�t tell me was that director Ron Howard filmed the movie chronologically, which is hardly ever done in movies. That�s cool.