A basic tenet of Cobb Manor theology holds that each life is prolonged by every visit to a baseball park by the precise length of that visit.

This holds true, we believe, even in spring training games in Florida, when the Red Sox lose to the Yankees. Monday night at City of Palms Park in Fort Myers was a case in point.

Not only did the hated Yankees pound the World Champion (can you believe it yet?) Red Sox by the embarrassing score of 9-2 in their first match since the 2004 playoffs. But just when we were booing Yankee Jason Giambi the loudest, he blasted a home run off lefty John Halama, almost ruining the proceedings.

Giambi, you will remember, has been implicated in baseball’s steroid scandal. Some will forgive and forget. But if it is a Yankee, Red Sox fans will remember forever … and boo as loud as they can.

Sure, we had to sit still and listen to the smattering of Yankee fans celebrate Giambi’s home run. But really, where would you rather be? To a spring training devotee, the Florida nights are just as pleasurable as the 80-degree days … especially when the weather reports are available from frigid New England.

The week started on a bad note with the Thursday opener played in 58-degree temperatures, complete with a drizzle and strong wind. But the team was introduced at 7:05 p.m. for the first time in a baseball park as “your World Champion Boston Red Sox.”

Has kind of a ring to it, doesn’t it?

Naturally, there is no guarantee that the Sox can repeat as champions, since the last time they won the World Series was 1918. That difficulty was underscored when the first batted ball of the opening evening went to Sox minor league left fielder Billy McMillon, who promptly slipped on the wet turf and stopped the ball with his face.

Sox fans are spoiled already. By 7:11, the first boos were heard as a ball skipped by captain Jason Varitek and allowed Minnesota to score the first run of the year.

You see things in spring training that you never see when the games count. In the second “real” game, not counting the college scrimmages, Red Sox hero Manny Ramirez, at least 15 pounds lighter than last year, pointed over the wall with both hands from his position in left field as Philadelphia’s monster first baseman Ryan Howard strode to the plate. On the first pitch, Howard creamed the baseball and left it somewhere among the distant palms.

Manny saw it coming.

Howard, who is new to me, made several outstanding plays in the field, including a running catch behind first base. Reminded you a little of George Scott, a Sox first baseman from generations ago.

But the highlight of the night was provided by prized minor leaguer Hanley Ramirez. I have seen probably a thousand baseball games from Little League to sandlot, college to Park League, Boston to San Francisco. But I had never seen a triple play before.

Ramirez, who has been tabbed a future star with good reason, took a savage line drive just behind second base for one out, ran without breaking stride to touch second for two outs and rifled a throw to first for the triple play, all in a flash.

You are really going to need a scorecard to tell the players this year. You have Manny Ramirez in left and Hanley Ramirez at short. You have Wade Miller pitching, Kevin Millar at first and Bill Mueller at third. All three are pronounced “Miller,” naturally.

The oddest souvenir on sale at Fort Myers was a white sock with a fake blood stain, which came with a purchase of the book “Blood Feud” by Jim Prime and Bill Nowlin. The bizarre article was a reminder of the heroic World Series game pitched by Curt Schilling with blood oozing through his sock.

The item was a big seller, naturally.

Florida is a strange contrast to Maine. The weather man issues “cold snap” warning when the temperature dips below 70. One morning, they declared “hazardous driving conditions.” Fog. But they have survived more hurricanes than we will ever see.

And they have countless sun-splashed ball parks which allow baseball games to be played in March. And remember, every second spent in those parks prolongs a life.

I swear.

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.