By Wendy Parker
Georgia Online News Service

Hope springs eternal, right?

Chipper’s hurt. Again.

Frenchy’s reworking his batting stroke. Again.

Bobby Cox is cutting and pasting together a new rotation. Again.

A few new sad wrinkles on this spring training for the Braves:

Smoltzie’s with the Red Sox.

Skip Caray has left us, and Pete Van Wieren has retired.

None of this has been heartening to Braves fans fearing that the Long Goodbye is in full swing. Like the economy, where’s the bottom? When will the recovery begin? Will there be a baseball renaissance in Atlanta?

Come now, Braves fans. Step back from the abyss and take a deep breath. You’ve been without playoff baseball for three years, and winning playoff baseball a little longer. Your despair is understandable, to a point.

But after being spoiled by 14 consecutive years of playoff baseball, you’re so quick to bemoan the Braves’ current prospects.

Granted, they’re not great. Not with them playing in the National League East against the World Series champion Phillies and the heavy-spending Mets. Braves general manager Frank Wren has come under fire for not being more successful in the free agent market. His handling of Smoltz’ departure has drawn plenty of ire.

But the state of the Braves is hardly as bad as a recent post from a fan blogger who declared: “I miss Ted and crappy baseball.”

Well, I certainly don’t.

Nothing against Ted Turner, who did elevate the Braves from truly crappy to merely crappy. And he got them on the Superstation and into the nation’s living rooms as America’s Team as they moved from crappy to really, really good.

But I don’t miss those Braves of my youth. Some players, like Hank Aaron and Phil Niekro, I will always revere. What I mean is the state of the Braves franchise for most of their history in Atlanta.

It was, until 1991, an organization that embodied futility. Except for the rare occasions of playoff appearances (brief ones) in 1969 and 1982, and Aaron’s historic 715th homerun in 1974, there aren’t many fond memories I have of those teams.

That’s because they didn’t provide us with many.

It got so bad at one point that Milo Hamilton, the insufferable co-voice of the Braves in those years, complained about the poor attendance at home games.

Perhaps ol’ Milo didn’t see me at Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium the rainy night in the early 1970s, when I was a pre-teen decked out in full softball uniform, cap and glove, so thrilled to see my truly crappy Braves play the equally crappy Cubs. Or maybe it was the sensationally crappy Expos. I forget.

What I do remember is that after several hours of rain delays, my father finally dragged a howling and heartbroken child out of there. It was that memory that flashed in my mind when I heard Milo’s chiding several years later. Not even Ernie Johnson Sr.’s soothing optimism could win me back.

For Braves fans who remember those dreary years, the parade that followed their (losing) appearance in the 1991 World Series was worth every miserable moment they had suffered until then. The packed frenzy of crowds pouring out of MARTA trains and onto Atlanta’s Peachtree Street was as unbelievable an experience as I’ve witnessed. This was all for the Braves?

So when I hear the complaining about Wren and Cox and soulless corporate ownership and so many other elements allegedly conspiring to hold the Braves back, I am amused.

The Braves may be slipping into mediocrity, but they’re not crappy.

The Braves may not be what they were a decade ago, but thank God they’re not what they were two or three decades ago.

For that, Braves fans should be grateful, not nostalgic.