Sox Rant
The New York Mets are coming to town. This wouldn't normally be that big a deal, but three things are making this series extra-special fun, and there's an air of nostalgia here in New England.
First, the Sox have won nine games in a row, the last two on walk-off hits by David Ortiz in a manner which can only be described as God-like (Greek-Roman, not Judeo-Christian). This has everyone in a good mood to start with.
Second, it's the twentieth anniversary of the 1986 World Series--that notable affair where something happened in Game 6, something else happened in Game 7, and the Mets became the first championship team whose cocaine dealer had a page in their media guide. There are more specific memories I could share here, but I'm alone here right now and...let's just say it's better not to talk about it anymore.
(You'd think that after 2004, the memory of '86 wouldn't be as hard to cope with. Bullshit. It still hurts. And it's not Mets fans doing it, it's us.
Do you know that WEEI ran the entire Game 6 broadcast yesterday, but with an alternate ending? Mookie Wilson hits a pop fly to Buckner--Sox win the '86 series. Joe Castiglione recorded a new ending to a game he broadcast 20 years ago.
Why, Joe? Why? You got to call the game where the Sox really won their first Series since 1918. Why did you feel the need to do a second take on Game 6?)
Finally, the series this week also features the return of Pedro Martinez to Fenway Park. Pedro, in his days here, was unquestionably the best thing about baseball. He was unhittable. Every start was an event--a rare loss was like an earthquake.
But the thing is, with Pedro, you always knew who he was. He never pretended any loyalty to anyone but himself. As his time went on, the AL caught up to him and he proved incapable of pitching more than 6 innings a game, but his ego would not allow him to believe that Curt Schilling was more important to the 2004 team that he was. He took the team's pursuit of Schilling--and the fans' adoration of Schilling--personally. That was the end, and we knew it.
He left, joined the Mets (not the Y***ees as we feared he might), and now routinely pitches complete game shutouts in the National League. The hitting isn't as good and he gets three free outs a game, but he's still a hell of a pitcher. He isn't Pedro anymore, though. He's not the guy you fear to your core. He's just a big personality with an insane breaking ball.
Like Damon, he ran his mouth on his way out of town, which is why I think he's going to get an ugly reception. Whether he deserves it is another matter. He's not like Damon--he went to a neutral club. And he meant so much to people for so long that you have to recognize it. Still, the crap about how he supposedly got no respect and the stuff he said about the fans... I'd have to clap twice and then sit on my hands.
My boss is a Met fan. He actually has happy memories of the '86 Series. He has proposed a bet--four of them, actually. One for every single game of the series and one for total runs scored in the three games. My brother has suggested adding homeruns for Ortiz/Ramirez vs. Beltran/Delgado, and that sounds good to me.
My question is...what are the stakes? Nobody needs booze, and I refuse to bet cash on the Sox. We aren't on the same coast, so it isn't like we can do the "wear the opposing team hat for a week" thing. I can't ship clam chowder.
In fact, I'm pretty sure even if I could that he wouldn't want any.
First, the Sox have won nine games in a row, the last two on walk-off hits by David Ortiz in a manner which can only be described as God-like (Greek-Roman, not Judeo-Christian). This has everyone in a good mood to start with.
Second, it's the twentieth anniversary of the 1986 World Series--that notable affair where something happened in Game 6, something else happened in Game 7, and the Mets became the first championship team whose cocaine dealer had a page in their media guide. There are more specific memories I could share here, but I'm alone here right now and...let's just say it's better not to talk about it anymore.
(You'd think that after 2004, the memory of '86 wouldn't be as hard to cope with. Bullshit. It still hurts. And it's not Mets fans doing it, it's us.
Do you know that WEEI ran the entire Game 6 broadcast yesterday, but with an alternate ending? Mookie Wilson hits a pop fly to Buckner--Sox win the '86 series. Joe Castiglione recorded a new ending to a game he broadcast 20 years ago.
Why, Joe? Why? You got to call the game where the Sox really won their first Series since 1918. Why did you feel the need to do a second take on Game 6?)
Finally, the series this week also features the return of Pedro Martinez to Fenway Park. Pedro, in his days here, was unquestionably the best thing about baseball. He was unhittable. Every start was an event--a rare loss was like an earthquake.
But the thing is, with Pedro, you always knew who he was. He never pretended any loyalty to anyone but himself. As his time went on, the AL caught up to him and he proved incapable of pitching more than 6 innings a game, but his ego would not allow him to believe that Curt Schilling was more important to the 2004 team that he was. He took the team's pursuit of Schilling--and the fans' adoration of Schilling--personally. That was the end, and we knew it.
He left, joined the Mets (not the Y***ees as we feared he might), and now routinely pitches complete game shutouts in the National League. The hitting isn't as good and he gets three free outs a game, but he's still a hell of a pitcher. He isn't Pedro anymore, though. He's not the guy you fear to your core. He's just a big personality with an insane breaking ball.
Like Damon, he ran his mouth on his way out of town, which is why I think he's going to get an ugly reception. Whether he deserves it is another matter. He's not like Damon--he went to a neutral club. And he meant so much to people for so long that you have to recognize it. Still, the crap about how he supposedly got no respect and the stuff he said about the fans... I'd have to clap twice and then sit on my hands.
My boss is a Met fan. He actually has happy memories of the '86 Series. He has proposed a bet--four of them, actually. One for every single game of the series and one for total runs scored in the three games. My brother has suggested adding homeruns for Ortiz/Ramirez vs. Beltran/Delgado, and that sounds good to me.
My question is...what are the stakes? Nobody needs booze, and I refuse to bet cash on the Sox. We aren't on the same coast, so it isn't like we can do the "wear the opposing team hat for a week" thing. I can't ship clam chowder.
In fact, I'm pretty sure even if I could that he wouldn't want any.
posted by Matthew at 10:24 AM
<< Home