Trader Jim, BallWonk Stalker?

All winter, Trader Jim has been stalking BallWonk. At first it was disconcerting. But then BallWonk settled into it, and came to look forward to his "chance" encounters with the man behind the Guzman signing and the Soriano trade that brought us all the prospects, the man whose mantra of "pitching, pitching, pitching" has turned a team with five decent starters into a team entering spring training with none. It was like BW had his own personal Cindy Sheehan.

And then, suddenly a few weeks ago, nothing. No Trader Jim staring at BallWonk at the mall, nor passing him on the street in Old Town, nor offering a confused half-smile in line at Starbuck's.

See, it started before Christmas. BW was shopping for Ms. BallWonk's Christmas and birthday presents, and desperation had led him to Pentagon City. At the time, BW was sporting his 1963 Senators cap, the blue cap with the red curly W and the red stripes down the seams.

Anyway, as BW approached the escalators on the second floor, he noticed a slightly doughy man in studiously casual dress with short, shaggy sunbleached hair staring at BW. The staring man had a small bag in hand, and had at his elbow a highly overdressed younger man, like some kind of accessory or intern or something, trying to say something. But for naught, because the senior man was staring raptly at BallWonk's cap.

BallWonk knew instantly: It was Trader Jim and some lackey. "Neat," BW thought, and added it to his mental tally of Only-in-DC runins with the famous and powerful. Like that time Tom Harkin nearly ran him down on the sidewalk, or when Ted Kennedy leaped out of a moving van and nearly landed on BW, or when he ran into a totally unaccompanied Jesse Jackson at National Airport and struck up a conversation, or when he sat next to Web Hubbel on a flight to Dallas. Trader Jim at the mall: check.

The holidays came and went. The temperature dropped, and BallWonk switched to a heavy gray wool flannel Nationals cap with red piping down the seams.

On a chilly day just after the New Year, BallWonk and the Ms. walked the WonkPuppy to Old Town and stopped for cider at the Starbuck's next to Olsson's on Union. Sitting outdoors, they were surrounded by hundreds of flocking sparrows seeking the tiniest crumbs. It was like an enchanted forest in a Disney movie. Suddenly, the birds fled, and there was Trader Jim turning the corner, Starbuck's cup in hand, walking down King to the waterfront.

"Did you see how that guy was staring at your hat?" Ms. BallWonk asked. She was sitting with her back to the street and only saw the stranger after he passed.

"Yeah. That was Jim Bowden. He always seems to stare at my hat."

"Always? This has happened before?"

BallWonk hadn't mentioned the Pentagon City run-in, on account of the shopping trip.

"Yeah, just a couple of weeks ago, at Pentagon City. Ran into him there, and he totally stared at my hat then too. He seems to have a thing about ballcaps with red piping. Maybe that's why the Commies ditched their pinstriped caps when he was their GM."

The stalking continued. It got to the point where Trader Jim sightings became an expected part of any trip into downtown DC or Old Town Alexandria. And then, when January ended with the cold snap we're still in, no more Trader Jim. No slightly doughy face with tussled hair staring at BallWonk's cap on King Street or K Street, at Clyde's or the Fish Market.

Sure, BW understands that Trader Jim probably migrated south for the spring, and it's nothing personal, but he really thought maybe he was forming a connection with Trader Jim. Or maybe he noticed that BW was on to his stalking? Jim, BW had you spotted from the first, and he never minded it. No need to be embarrassed! And BW doesn't even have a camera on his phone, so you don't have to worry about embarrassing photos showing up in "Reliable Sources."

Truth is, BallWonk misses his stalker. Come back, Trader Jim!