Thursday, August 23, 2012

The Rage: One Step Further


I am done with you, Jon Lester. And you, Josh Beckett. You self important assholes.

I harbor no more love for you, Dustin Pedroia. You don't even deserve the honor of a stupid nickname any more.

Jacoby Ellsbury. Adrian Gonzales. What more important things did you have to do?

Our ENTIRE outfield! Not a SINGLE ONE of you could bother? The ENTIRE infield? Were you too busy getting spiffed up for the Beckett Bowl?

I am so disgusted. I don't care what's going on with the team. I don't care that you had a charity event to go to THAT NIGHT. I don't even care if you don't like funerals. You entitled little crybabies should have shut up, put on a suit, and gone to Pesky's funeral.

It disgusts me enough that they allowed all of you to wear his number. You couldn't be bothered to win a single game that you played in his honor. You couldn't bother to show up for the games that coincided with the Jimmy Fund Telethon. You. Didn't. Try.

Big Papi, Amadeus (who, by the way, managed attendance at both events), Dahmer, and Padilla... thank you. Thank you for being professionals, and good people, and showing up to a funeral that most people in New England would have loved to have been able to attend.

As for the rest of you? You're dead to me. You are not men.

It's going to be a quiet night at the ballpark for me tonight.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Babies In The Dugout: Anger In My Heart

It is becoming increasingly hard for me to separate my love for the Red Sox with my hatred of the players on this team. I'm not being reactionary. Not a single one of them deserves to wear that uniform.

I hate buying into what the media tells me to think about these guys. Really, I do. But with the reports that seventeen players had a meeting with ownership behind Bobby's back, I'm done supporting the players. They make me angry. A bunch of whiny, overindulged babies who don't like that the manager has expectations for them? Aw, poor them. Hey, I didn't like that Bobby left Jon Lester out that night to get pounded either (mostly because he was making the game unenjoyable for me), but it's Lester's goddamn JOB to pitch, and when we have no one left in the bullpen, either take your lumps or PITCH BETTER.

I feel no sympathy for them. I have no respect for them. And the ownership that allows them to be crybabies is just as bad. Let me clarify - I don't have anything against the ownership. For as long as they've been in charge, things have seemed pretty good around Fenway. I think they made the wrong decision to hire Bobby in the offseason, but once you hire him, he's your guy. Support him, and see to it that the employees under him don't feel like they have power to veto him. He's a manager. The fact that they didn't let him manage if a failure on their part, and they have to be held accountable for the millionaire monsters they've created.

We wanted these guys to win one for Pesky? Please, I don't even want them associated with the name Johnny Pesky. Their entitled bullshit attitudes are the opposite of everything Pesky stood for. There is no honor in having these guys win a game for a person that they didn't even deserve to be around.

Yup, I'm talking to all of them - Beckett, Lester, Pedroia, Ellsbury, Gonzalez... You name 'em, I'm disgusted by them. There is no leadership among the players. Or if there is, the only thing that's being led is a  march up to the owner's office to whine that Bobby made them feel bad. Suck it up, you jackasses. You don't want to play for Bobby? Too goddamn bad. It's not your decision. You signed your name to those contracts and it's your RESPONSIBILITY to earn that money.

This season has been painful. That game last night? Hideous. I have no good good things to say about the team. I have no happy or warm feelings about any of the games on the rest of the schedule. And it kills me to say that I don't like this team, because I truly and honestly did like them at the beginning of the season. But they have no heart, no fight, no desire. A new manager isn't going to change that. We got a new manager. Remember, they managed to get Tito fired and it didn't improve their desire to win at all. The change has to come from ownership. The next time they get a text message crying that Bobby hurt someone's feelings, instead of calling a meeting to let the players cry, they should tell them to take their frustrations out in the work out room and the batting cages.

That being said, I'm still in it. And unlike a lot of people I know, I want them to win. I just don't think they will. So go Sox.... you've got a month and a half left. Start earning your paychecks.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

And the baseball world gets a little smaller

Earlier this season, we lost the voice of Fenway when Carl Beane died.

Yesterday, we lost the heart of the Red Sox with the passing of Johnny Pesky.

Despite knowing that he couldn't possibly live forever, I didn't think the end would come this soon. My heart is broken. I'm sure many, many people can relate when I say I felt like Johnny Pesky was my grandfather.

Johnny always had a minute to spare for anyone who wanted one. I met him on a few occasions, and he was always wonderful and accommodating. Johnny once said that his autograph was worth about ten cents, and maybe he's right about that. The autograph may be worth ten cents, but the experience of getting to talk to him for even two minutes was priceless.

I cried when I heard. I always wondered what I would do when Johnny passed away. I didn't expect that the answer would be 'bawl like a giant baby and mess up dinner because I just couldn't properly roll arancini through my grief.' Dinner came out ok despite my inability to roll risotto, but it tasted sad. If you can taste the love put into a meal, you can taste the sadness behind it as well.

My boyfriend laughed at me last night. Maybe he was right to. I probably looked ridiculous sitting on the couch, clutching a tissue, with tears rolling down my cheeks as I watched the NESN special on Johnny. He said he didn't understand why I was getting so upset over the death of someone I didn't even know. I told him he didn't have to understand, he just had to accept.

It eases my grief a little that the last game Johnny attended was a win. Also knowing that he got to play such a prominent part in both the 100th anniversary celebration, Opening Day, and the World Series victories. I am thankful that the Red Sox officially declared the right field pole "Pesky's Pole" and retired his old number 6 while he was still around to see it. I don't think anyone loved the Red Sox, Fenway, or baseball more than Johnny Pesky, and now no one can ever separate Fenway and Johnny. His name, his fingerprints, his stories are all over that park.

Johnny, if there is a ball park in the afterlife, I honestly hope to see you there. And if I do, I suspect that you will be sitting in a folding chair, signing autographs and telling stories. Rest in peace, dear man. You are loved and missed.