Bambino's Curse

Happy May Day!

It's fitting really, that Pedro Martinez picks today, May 1, the day millions of members of organized labor movements (with a whole lot of socialists among them) world wide to demonstrate for worker's rights, to declare his frustration with the Red Sox capitalist management:

Martinez told the Boston Herald he would pursue free agency at the end of this season after never receiving a long-term contract extension offer from the ballclub this winter and spring (Silverman).

With so many current Red Sox players in their last year of a contract, I doubt this is the last we'll hear of similar labor dissatisfaction with management regarding contract negotiations. Unfortunately, it sucks in particular that this is the same year as a Presidential election. So if you're tired (and I think I was tired of it before it began) of the mudslinging between the camps of Mr. Kerry and Mr. Bush, you won't even be al be to count on baseball as a respite from all of that bluster and posturing.

Pedro continues,

I'm just really sad for the fans in New England who had high hopes that at this time I could say, truly, that I was going to stay in Boston, but now they're going to have to compete with the rest of the league.

I can't speak of all fans, but don't worry about me. No need to be sad because, the way I see, this is actually a good thing for me: Now all the pressure is on Pedro Martinez to pitch so well every outing that he attracts the interests of other teams who may wish to sign him as a free agent.

I'm fine with that. Win the World Series and losing Pedro afterwards isn't the end of the world. Falling short of that, I'm imagining the roster will be seriously overhauled anyway.

And, sorry to say it, but there are legitimate questions about the health of Pedro's shoulder. If management were to sign him right now, I'd lose a lot of faith in their long range plans for the club.

So I hope Pedro is true to his word when he says,

"It's over with and I'm just going to continue to play baseball like I would normally do. I was just wasting time, having something else on my mind. So now I get rid of one and concentrate on baseball and that's it."

And I'm hoping he goes out and has a career year. Yeah, prove Theo et al wrong by helping to lead the team to a World Series Championship. Show the world how healthy your shoulder is today right through October. I'm all for it.

Livin' Large in My Palatial Tampa Bay Estate

Evidently, I somehow moved to the Tampa Bay area without realizing it. Funny thing is when I look out my window I don't see one frickin palm tree. I don't see any effin' flamingos and ne'er a thong bikini in sight.

But MLB.TV insists I'm in Tampa Bay, so that must be where I am. (I do see lots of old, retired folks driving enormous American made cars, so maybe they're on to somethign?)

Yes, I was blacked out for the second consecutive night. I tried to call the support number but, of course, was immediately put in the hold loop of hell, and, in my relaxed state (and by relaxed I mean the state of mind after a soothing glass of red wine) I wasn't in the mood to wait or get additionally pissed off. (I'll save that for today when I call and go all Petey throwing a fastball at your head.)

To add insult to injury, I had NO problem connecting from work yesterday afternoon, and my office is located a mere 15 miles from my house. WTF is going on?

Anyway, the scoreless streak came to an end but, as I smile while I type it, the winning streak did not.

And does Theo Epstein look smarter every day for sacrificing some of the offense of last year's lineup in favor of a stronger defensive roster this year?

It didn't take long last night for Derek Lowe to realize he didn't have his best stuff. …[But] Some fine plays saved him.… He had more escapes than Indiana Jones (Harber, Globe).

And then there's the drastically improved bullpen. Everything seems to be falling into place as the GM certainly imagined it. I'm feeling so good, in fact, that even the bad news concerning Nomar (a June return now) doesn't faze me (well, not too much, at least).

"It's a lot of fun to come to the ballpark because we honestly feel we're going to win every single ball game." — Derek Lowe

It's rather fun being a fan as well when everyone has that attitude. The positive visualization thing is working. (Now I need to positively visualize convincing MLB.com that I'm not now nor ever have been a resident of Tampa Bay!)

"It's Always Better on Holiday"

Last night you can't imagine my disappointment when I fired up the iBook and anxiously tuned into MLB.TV to see Curt Sir Gawain Schilling armored and ready to take on the Devil Rays hitters only to be reminded of the blackout rules concerning MLB.TV: If a baseball game (or games) is being broadcast nationally on ESPN or Fox, everyone but those outside of North America are subject to blackout.

I understand the rationale (and by rationale I mean greed) behind the restriction, but it's a totally Pyrrhic victory on the part of the networks and MLB. Sure, they win the battle of preventing me and countless other fans from watching our club, but they lose the war of ratings and public opinion. There is no way in hell, not a chance, I'm going to say, "Oh, I can't watch the Red Sox so I'll just tune into whatever game ESPN is showing que sera sera la dee dee da …"

Get real. I'm just not that sort of baseball fan. I'm not a purist who can watch any old two teams play the game for the sake of the game. I want to see the Red Sox. I'm a Red Sox fan. That's kinda sorta what I do: Watch the Boston Red Sox. Hello? That's why I paid my $99 for the broadband package. That's all I've got to say about the mofo blackout restrictions.

On the positive side, while I completely missed the live action of Schilling doing his dominance thing for 7 and 1/3 innings on 106 pitches and missed Embree and DiNardo coming out of the pen to increase the relief squads scoreless innings to an amazing count of 27, I did get to watch my second favorite show, The O.C., without any jinxy-guilty feelings. Besides the total campiness, bad acting, predictable plot lines, what I like best about The O.C. is the soundtrack. And last night who was the band playing the background during the Vegas fake beach scenes with the hooker disguised as a UNLV student? None other than my boys Franz Ferdinand whom I raved about on Tuesday.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I'm the cutting edge. (Of course, since I got tipped off to Franz Ferdinand on tweedy NPR, of all places, my cutting edge is more that of a butter knife than a Bowie knife.)

Here, Here. SeeIt. SeeIt.

OK. Another rain out. Comes with Spring, stirring dull roots and all that.

So that past two mornings walking the dog I've seen the most spectacular indigo buntings. Without a doubt, they are my favorite song bird. And this got me to thinking … If I owned a minor league ball club, I'd call them The Buntings. And the uniforms would be trimmed in that iridescent indigo the bunting is noted for, and the caps would be entirely indigo.

"Now batting for the Buntings, the third baseman, Butch Watson" [echoing "Watson, Watson, Watson" amid loud cheers].

And get this: the song of the bunting (you can hear it here with Real Audio) is described as sounding like this: "fire-fire, where-where, here-here, seeit-seeit."

Call me crazy, but that would make one heckuva ballpark rally chant, especially if it was done call and response with one half the park going "Fire! Fire!" and the other half responding, "Where? Where?" and so on.

C'mon, work with me people. If nothing else, I think I should make up t-shirts with the logo of my imaginary minor league club on them.

Meanwhile, Daubach's back with the big club. He's good luck, I think. And B.K. Kim is slated to start Thursday's makeup game. Kim still makes me a nervous wreck, though. Was it Simmons who described the feeling of Kim in the game being like a parent giving the keys to the brand new family car to the newly licensed teenage driver in the family? You know you've got to let him get some solo behind the wheel time, still, just the other day he nearly took out two parked cars and an old lady crossing the street. You can't relax knowing he's out there.

Clam Shells Clappin'

These days/nights without games jack me up. I awoke this morning feeling like Morrissey, you know all "I am sick and I am dull and I am plain," all pathetic and whiny.

Then I … (was just about to write that I "popped in" some music, but, technically speaking, in this era of the iPod there is no more "popping in" of anything as you just hit play so …Then I ) hit play on Franz Ferdinand and everything was A-OK again. Have you heard these guys? Brilliant. They are currently on endless repeat on my iPod, in my iTunes … Can't get enough of it.

I always expected that I'd "outgrow" rock 'n roll or otherwise just get caught in the time warp of listening only to the music I came of age with, but, surprisingly, that hasn't occurred so far. It helps, of course, that bands like Franz Ferdinand, while thoroughly modern (whatever that means) wouldn't have sounded out of place in 1984 back when I was a college radio DJ at WUNH 91.3 FM ("the freewaves").

With that said, if I ever stop blogging about the Red Sox (like today for instance, heh heh), I'd most likely immerse myself entirely in pop music and TV related themes. Then again those genres are already well represented.

Speaking of representing, there's a new Red Sox message board on the Interweb: TalkSox.com. Check it out.

Elsewhere, Alex Belth has some interesting observations regarding the game he attended at The Stadium over the weekend (seen through his Yankees fan eyes).

Meanwhile, in the words of the immortal B-52's:

Here comes a stingray
There goes a devil-ray
In walked a jelly fish
There goes a (dirt) dog-fish…

Oo-ah, oo-ah. Let's rock.

Swifferation

Pictures, thousands of words …

+ =

I'm not gloating: With regard to Michele's humiliation, I'm merely enjoying the fruits of my donation.

Without a doubt, I just experienced one of the best baseball weekends of my life. How about you?

Even Shaughnessy, the numero uno purveyor of doom and gloom, is talking like he's been hitting the Red Sox happy vibe bong:

After everything that happened over the winter, and everything that happened last October, and everything that's happened between these teams since 1920, it would be hard to script a better 10 days for the Red Sox (Globe).

What more can I say?

"Laugh On"

Joel Sherman of the NY Post says what could be really scary for the Yankees this season: A happy Manny Ramirez:

Ramirez himself wouldn't admit as much yesterday, but it sure seems like he's having more fun on a baseball field than ever before. On his back is a tattoo that seems to summarize his new approach: "Laugh On." On his right arm is another: "Only the Strong Survive."

And you've gotta love this Manny quote: "Right now, I think you guys can see that I'm trying to do my best."

Seems we fans aren't alone in working to maintain a positive attitude 24/7. And it's that kind of disposition that helps turn lead into gold:

[The Red Sox won the] baseball game despite going 0 for 19 with runners in scoring position. To gauge the magnitude of the 0-fer, consider that no other major league team has won a game with such a show of futility in the 30 years since statistics were first kept for batting with runners in scoring position (Hohler, Globe).

Pedro Martinez, 1pm today. Get your laugh on.