It has been about a week since I last checked in to the Ballpark. I have been on an epic journey through time, space, self and the south… each one stranger than the last. Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and Louisiana (I’m purposely omitting California, which was the point of embarkation, because California sucks). The Sox record while I was on the road was 5-3, The Celtics won game 7 while I was surrounded by Bulls fans in Scottsdale, Arizona (which I hated by the way, it is a productionless suckpit that traps people with warm weather and nice people and then surrounds you with unwed teenage mothers and old guys with crappy tattoos) and even the Bruins went up 1-0 in the series -before forgetting how to play the sport and losing three straight including a devastating and demoralizing OT loss-. Bottom line, I shit talked my way across the country, and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do about it because I was wearing a Red Sox hat and they weren’t. The icing on the cake, of course, was the slew of incoming calls I received while waiting to board my flight home informing me that Manny had tested positive for some penis enhancing steroid and was suspended for 50 games. -Unfortunately, Manny will still outswing Ortiz in every major category.-
The sexiest thing piece of clothing, I have determined, that a guy can wear, is a fitted dark blue had with a bold old English red B on the front of it. I was either faced with guys trying to babble an insult that was easily refuted with the score of whatever Boston game was underway at the moment or young ladies that wanted to hear all about it or share their love of Beantown with me. And I am a very good listener.
I was home in time for Mothers Day, a great day for Boston sports perennially; we saw the Celtics, Bruins and Red Sox all fully operational. Except of course for Ortiz who was only semi operational. Watching him stroke that wall-ball-double on a pitch that shouldn’t have landed yet was a disheartening moment, he just couldn’t get his pink bat around on the fastball… which has been the case all season, and will probably not hit a single dinger this year.
Try this, Big Papi:
The point, other than Ortiz needs his HGH snackie cakes back, is that our players, teams and owners are simply cut from a superior cloth than say, all the teams from all the cities I drove through. Here’s a list of problems we don’t have: Choking ourselves while struggling to enjoy a Padres game, rooting for Kurt Warner when your favorite player is the backup QB (I am the only fan in Boston with that condition… and even I have been cured), living in a state where every major sports billboard is for a college team (New Mexico) and lastly, we don’t have to be from Texas. -I can’t say anything bad about Louisiana… that state was awesome. The Patriots travel to the Big Easy on November 30th of this upcoming season and I fully intent to be there. You are all invited to join me.-
Of course, it’s easy to fall into the trap of criticizing our own, when Big Baby is our offensive standout, the Bruins start looking like a bad roller hockey team and Ortiz is forced to play with a fittingly pink bat, but there’s nothing like a little perspective to remind us all how great Boston is.
Tonight, as you all know, is the New England Sports Blog Award party at McGreevey’s Bar. Done, ABA and myself will be surrounded by people who are essentially trying to win awards based on how much they love their home teams. We will be in good company, drinking cheap beer, and talking shit about everything about every other team in every other city. It’s gonna be awesome, and it’s open to all, so please come and support your local homers.