news-record.com

OMAHA, Neb. -- Christmas may be 195 days, 7 hours, 12 minutes away as I write this, but for me and the rest of the team out here in Omaha, we had our own little Christmas morning extravaganza today.

I think everybody understands why we are so happy to make it out to the "Greatest Show on Dirt": treated like royalty, playing in front of tens of thousands, having the chance to play for a national championship, etc. A major -- but little known -- reason is all of the goodies that we get upon touching down in Nebraska.

Thus, this morning after a buffet breakfast at the hotel, all of our eyes lit up as we got to go through the real buffet line. It was just as if St. Nick had been on duty early this year.

College World Series hat? Check.

A bat with a Nike special-edition Omaha logo? Check.

A fresh pair of sliders (baseball term for underwear, but highly valued in our locker room), three pairs of batting gloves and a nice golf polo? Check, check, and thank you so much again, Coach, check.

It didn't even matter if we were naughty or nice.

Speaking of being nice, today brought the onset of the one thing that separates Omaha from any day in Chapel Hill or the rest of America: autographs, and thousands of them. As is customary after the on-field practice at Rosenblatt, the fans get a chance to go through a 30-minute autograph line.

Today brought rain, and with it many bad pens and sharpies, but it did not matter to us. You cannot ever beat somebody asking for your autograph.

So, no matter how many we have to sign, no matter how many random pieces of paper are shoved in my face, no matter how many times my hand cramps, I always remember one thing: Omaha is what I ask Santa for at Christmas every year.