Friday, May 28, 2004
In Da Club
In the midst of my solipsistic happy haze, I'm quite able to shrug off last night's stomping by the A's … You see while Arroyo was putting the Red Sox in an 8-0 hole, I was finalizing those impromptu, totally unexpected travel arrangements I alluded to yesterday. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I'm headed to Fenway. I'll touch down in the heart and hub of Red Sox Nation tomorrow morning at 10:18 a.m.
Am I psyched? Oh, a wee bit, you could say.
One of eeriest things about going to the game on Saturday (well, besides being in the .406 Club), is that my buddy Mike tells me another friend of ours may be at the game as well. Big deal, you're thinking, right? People converge on Fenway all the time. Well, it just so happens that the three of us have not watched a Red Sox game in each other's company since a fateful night in October way back in 1986. It was October 25th, to be exact. Perhaps that date rings a little bell? Now it's not like anyone made a conscious decision to insure that we never gathered together again, it's just the way things shook out over the years.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, if all of us are at Fenway at the same time, we can somehow seal the hole in the universe that was ripped asunder that night? (Yes, I watch too much Star Trek. Heh heh.)
In other news, have you seen these most excellent t-shirts at The Red Seat? The "God hates us" one just cracks me up.
Email woes:
The POP email server for Bambino's has been on the blink sporadically over the
past couple of days. Haven't been able to check anything since last night. So
if you send something and it gets booted back to you as undeliverable or you
just don't hear back from me, that's why. Meanwhile, I'll be off the grid thru
Sunday, so that'll add to an email backlog.
Now back to daydreaming about lobster rolls, fried clams, pizza in the North End, and the one of a kind green of Fenway … I may post an audioblog or two if the mood strikes me.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
"A sense of oneness with sun and stone"
Another fantastic game! I had that feeling again, the one I spoke of yesterday, when the A's "decided to intentionally walk Manny Ramirez with two outs, first base open, and Johnny Damon on third for the Red Sox in the sixth inning" (Globe).
I was thinking, "What if … Naw … well …" and the vision of V-Tek going over the Monster seats kept trickling in. And when he did just that, well, I transcended. There's no other way to put it.
Funny, I stumbled across this yesterday, a description of how the great novelist Vladimir Nabokov felt when collecting butterflies:
I confess I do not believe in time. I like to fold my magic carpet, after use, in such a way as to superimpose one part of the pattern upon another. Let visitors trip. And the highest enjoyment of timelessness -- in a landscape selected at random -- is when I stand among rare butterflies and their food plants. This is ecstasy, and behind the ecstasy is something else, which is hard to explain. It is like a momentary vacuum into which rushes all that I love. A sense of oneness with sun and stone. A thrill of gratitude to whom it may concern -- to the contrapuntal genius of human fate or to tender ghosts humoring a lucky mortal (Speak, Memory).
That's it! That's the same ecstatic feeling I had when Manny went deep on Tuesday night and again when Varitek did it last night. "It's like a momentary vacuum into which rushes all that I love."
More good news, I got a call last night during the game from my long time friend and die hard Sox fan, Mike, saying he's got tix (in the posh .406 Club no less!) to Saturday afternoon's game against the Mariners and he wonders if I'd be able to go. Oh, yes. I'm checking flights and making tentative arrangements right now.
Only snag is that with this being last minute and all, Mike, a restaurant manager, isn't sure he can get the day off. Will know more later today. It's probably 50/50 and I hope I didn't jinx anything by mentioning it prematurely. Fingers crossed that I get word from Mike before the price of flights climb as Saturday approaches. (You know how the airlines love to sock it to last minute arrangements.)
Speaking of jinxes, I love this,
Lowe, who was 0-3 with a 7.23 ERA in his four preceding starts, asked to have his team wear the red, "special occasion" jerseys that he wore in his last victory on April 29 in an effort to turn around his recent misfortune (Horrigan, Herald).
Lowe, if you recall, has always been one of the more superstitious players on the Red Sox roster.
Dirt Dog Goes Yard!
Congratulations are in order for Steve Silva, founder of the Boston Dirt Dogs website.
From the official press release:
Boston.com has acquired Boston Dirt Dogs (www.bostondirtdogs.com), a popular Red Sox fan Web site, and will incorporate its content into Boston.com's award-winning sports section in June.
And I thought my deal with Fox Sports was a good one, but this is another level.
Not only has Steve has been an ardent supporter of the Bambino's Curse blog over the years, but also BDD has been one of my own favorite, must read websites, so I'm really pleased to cast a bow toward Steve and BDD over this news.
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Everything I've Ever Wanted
Last night I fell in love with all things Red Sox, again. I mean, sure, I've always been totally enamored, but there always seems to be a next level, a higher level one can be brought to. (Think Neo-Platonism fused with baseball.)
For me my metamorphosis to the next level began with the Fenway chants for Youkilis: "Yooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu…" in that deep throated, all encompassing crowd roar, like we imagine the voice of the Creator might sound like. And then there's Youkilis, himself, in the batter's box, the rookie, the Greek God of Walks, Kevin Youkilis already weighted with expectation per Moneyball and Billy Beane's desire to have him on the A's roster, already laying the groundwork for the stuff of legends when his first Major League hit cleared the fences … There's Youkilis coming up in the 5th with the Sox already up 5 zilch, and there he goes knocking a strident double to left, looking every bit like he was born to do just that, waiting his whole life to do just that, a no questions asked hit to left and an emphatic, cocksure stance on the bag at second.
Does it get better than this? Yes, yes it does. Pokey Reese, his uniform fitting his skinny frame like it would a scarecrow, singles to right. Fast forward through Damon, and his long locks flowing, past Bellhorn, who either has walked or struck out in every game he's played in this year, past yet another double by Ortiz, and …
Here comes Manny Ramirez! Here comes Manny Ramirez!
At that moment, I couldn't not have positive visualization thrust upon me. It was as if a hypnotist had made me his thrall, such was the clarity of the vision, the certainty that Manny Ramirez was going to uncork the bomb on us.
Boom! There it is. In no time at all. You knew it was coming. And in that moment, when my hopes and expectations fuse with the reality of the long arc of Manny's ball going Monster and that nonchalance on Manny's face, that "no big deal, this is what I do" slow, deliberate first steps toward first that become the heroic jog, in that moment I had everything I've ever wanted.
And this is why I can't ever imagine a life without the Boston Red Sox.
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
Off Day Reflections
As much as enjoy Red Sox baseball, I've got to admit that an off day can feel so good. It's great to have a free night to just reflect on where we've been, where we are, and where we hope to be going.
Yesterday, I suggested that there's never a truly bad time to be a Red Sox fan. Sure there are days such as the Friday after Game 7 of last season's ALCS when we feel hollowed out inside, broken, but I suggest that only makes us, as Red Sox fans, more willful and serves to tighten the bonds between us all.
With that said, I don't think it's particularly easy to be a Red Sox fan. Case in point. In a comment yesterday, one of our resident Yankees fan, Luis, chastises,
… remember, its only may. the sox had a 4 game lead a few weeks ago and lost it, so 1 and a half is not enough. just a reminder.
We got the same kind of thing after the sweep of the Yankees back in April. That is, it's a case of damned if we do, damned if we don't.
If we take a moment to feel good about our team, and I'm not talking about gloating or hubris, just feeling happy with our nine taking the field each night, we are accused of being blind to history and/or of being cocky and self-righteous.
On the other hand, if we, on any particular day, happen to feel gloomy or point out a potential weak spot in our team, we are painted with the broad brush of being followers of masochism, or that we have "Stockholm Syndrome," or that we secretly, subconsciously, actually want to lose.
What the hell? Doesn't make any sense does it? Or am I just being myopic in thinking only Red Sox fans get held to this bizarre double-standard?
Who knows? In the end, all I can do is shoulder on with a shrug of indifference to outsiders: "It's a Red Sox thing. You wouldn't understand."
Elsewhere, Dave Pinto points to this interesting analysis by the Baseball Crank of Babe Ruth learning to be patient at the plate and this leading to his becoming one of the greatest hitters of all time.
And speaking of great hitters …
Photo by Mike Farley from Sunday's game May 23, 2004.
Oakland tonight.
Monday, May 24, 2004
Take Some Thick With Your Thin
Feeling good? I am. At the risk of jinx, this weekend sweep of Toronto clicked everything into place for me. I finally feel like I'm over the early, Spring jitters and have settled in for a fantastic summer of baseball. Tizz is signed and delivering. The defense is solidifying. And V-Tek says we shouldn't lose any sleep over Derek Lowe:
"I'm tired of hearing what's wrong with him. His stuff is better than it was two years ago. His body language is better than last year. He's not quitting, like some people say; he's competing hard, and last year sometimes he did throw his arms up. Derek's going to come back and pitch some great games" (Gammons, ESPN).
I'll trust the catcher's instincts over my own, that's for sure.
Meanwhile, have you been following the "Derek Jeter has lost his marbles" plot twist?
A top psychologist puts absolutely no stock in Derek Jeter's sickly .190 average being related to Jeter stressing over the attention Alex Rodriguez is receiving or A-Rod making more money than Jeter (King, NY Post).
Well, something's wrong with Jeter, right? Or is he just washed up?
Meanwhile, the Red Sox replacement short stop who was signed strictly for his defensive gifts, is seriously outperforming Mr. Jeter:
Pokey Reese through 40 games: .248 BA, .298 OBP,.347 SLG, .645 OPS.
It's a good day to be a Red Sox fan. But, is there ever really a bad day to be a Red Sox fan?
It's not my-team-right-or-wrong; it's my-team-through-thick-and-thin. A life-long connection, rather than a one-night stand (Art Martone).
Amen to that.
