LEADING WITH MY CHIN:

All is right in my world today. I just watched my beloved Red Sox beat the snot out of the Yankees on television during the past two nights and realized for the first time in about fifteen years, there is not one Yankee player that I have any sentimental feelings for. I am free to hate on them without any second thoughts.

Back in '95 the Yankees weren't doing so well. But they signed Tony Fernandez to play shortstop and I was a big Tony Fernandez fan. It was during that year that I became aware that there were a few Yankees that I actually liked. For some strange reason I liked Paul O'Neill; I liked Tino Martinez; I liked Bernie Williams. I began to wonder if I was getting soft in my advancing years.

I have spent my whole life hating the Yankees, and this was a good thing. I can't recall a person that has been in my life that I can truly say that I hated. But I hated the Yankees. Maybe those ill feelings towards the men in pinstripes has been the vent I needed to protect the people in my life from the venom that I'm sure exists in me. It has gone so far that I wanted to like teams like the Brewers and the Cubs and the Mets and the Twins but found it difficult because they wore pinstripes. I have gone as far as to be proud of the fact that I have never hired anyone who wore Yankee gear on his or her job interview.

I hated the way that Casey Stengel used to adjust his lineup and pitching rotation on a daily basis. I hated Bill Skowron, Hank Bauer, Tom Tresh, Tony Kubek, Hector Lopez, Mickey Rivers, Thurman Munson, Clete Boyer, Bob Turley and so many more. I especially hated Ryne Duren. The problem in the old days was the Yanks had guys like Mickey, Yogi, Elston Howard and Johnny Blanchard. You couldn't hate those guys. They were too good.

That is why the feelings of the past fifteen years have been so disturbing to me. I actually liked some of these guys and it didn't feel right. I always liked Dave Justice and was disappointed when he went to the Bronx but I couldn't hate him. Even as late as '05 they had guys on the team I liked. They had Tom "Flash" Gordon, John Flaherty, Randy Johnson and Alan Embree, and I liked these guys.

I got so excited during the past two days when I came to the realization that there is not even one member of the 2009 New York Yankees that I have even the slightest sentimental feeling about. I am free to hate the Yankees again with no second thoughts. That is even more exciting to me than the fact that the Red Sox kicked the snot out of them. That's not really correct. The fact that they haven't done so well in Boston has kept Jerseyankee from posting his Yankee crap.

When I was ten years old, I joined a Little League sponsored by my parish church in the Dorchester section of Boston. I had no idea what position I wanted to play when I was asked so the Manager put me in the outfield. We began the first practice with him hitting fly balls to us in the outfield. I couldn't catch anything and the twelve year olds started ragging on me. I was so embarrassed that I threw my glove on the ground and ran off the field and all the way home. 

Later that day the Manager of the team showed up at my house with my glove. My Mom invited him in and we all sat in the kitchen and talked about my playing baseball on his team. He never said anything (in front of me) about what happened at the field that day but my Mom decided to walk me to the park on the next scheduled practice. She did it a few more times after that and even attended my first Little League game. It was the only baseball game she ever saw me play; and I played on at least two teams every year until I graduated from High School. 

That story is what came to my mind when my sister called to tell me that Mom had passed away around 8 o'clock this evening. She was 28 days short of her 96th birthday and up until about 2 months ago, was still a funny, intelligent and vital person. It was about that time that her illness started to take control of her mind and she started slipping quickly. 

I was visiting with her during September of 2004 and was shocked when she asked me to put the Red Sox game on the TV. She didn't really have a clue as to what went on during a baseball game but she was excited about how happy her family and her friends were because the Sox were doing so well. She became a fan for that season anyway and developed a little interest again in 2007. 

I lost my oldest friend tonight. I knew it was coming and thought I was prepared for the end but discovered that I wasn't quite as prepared as I thought. I could put down an easy 2,000 more words telling you what a wonderful person she was and how much I already miss her, but this short blog will have to do. 

I thank all who read this for indulging me.

Is It Over Yet?

"I hate this time of year. I watch every baseball game with a level of anxiety that makes no sense to me. Each game is a reminder that there are only a few more left. I find myself rearranging my schedule to watch games late in the season that I couldn't be bothered with in July. I keep my Devil Rays tickets and go to every game in the last home stand."

I wrote this passage in a blog in October of 2007 and it pretty much echoed my feelings about the end of every baseball season since I was a boy. The last game of the World Series marks a time of sadness in me. It is over!    

It's just not the same this year. This year I just can't seem to want it to be over soon enough. I have even started to study the NFL stats. I have learned about all the new players on the Lightning roster (and there are a lot of them). I have tried to determine how the Celts will do without James Posey. This is completely different than it has been for the past fifty years. Last year, it wasn't until the World Series was over that I realized that the Patriots were undefeated.   

I started asking myself why this season is so different. After all, I have a team in the World Series. I have followed the Tampa Bay Rays since they were playing catch before the first pre season game. I have witnessed one of the most incredible turnarounds in the history of sports and it happened in a sport that I have loved all my life; and I saw a lot of it first hand. Why do I feel so indifferent about the final outcome of the World Series and just want it over so I can move on?  

1.      I think that there are a number of reasons for my feelings. First, was the series the Rays played with my beloved Red Sox in the ALCS. Even though I wanted the Rays to win, it was extremely difficult to root against the Red Sox.   

2.      I was disgusted with the coverage Manny Ramirez and (although not so much) the Dodgers were getting in the playoffs. Many were making a hero out of a guy that quit on his team and that goes totally against my sense of sensibility.   

3.      Not knowing who was covering the games and what channel they were going to be on was a pain in the ass. Having to listen to broadcasters who were learning on the fly about the teams that were playing was distracting as hell. I never heard so much bad information over the air as I heard in the first two series of the playoffs.    

4.      Not having Kalas, Remy and Staats to the TV broadcasts sucked. These were the guys who escorted us through the regular season and come playoff time they are just discarded.    

5.      Having to listen to Chip Carey, Tim McCarver, Joe Morgan, and all these other yahoos call the games was distracting with their incessant ramblings about things that just don't matter. And the fact that they were talking to me, the viewer, like I didn't have a clue as to what was going on was insulting. I felt as though I was listening to a democratic politician telling me that I just didn't understand and that what they were doing was for my own good. 

6.      Coming to the realization that the game doesn't matter nearly as much as the Networks wishes. For God's sakes, it is snowing in Philly today! Why are we still playing baseball? I have already started taking down my Christmas decorations from the rafters and we are still playing baseball.   

7.      The umpiring has been absolutely atrocious in all the series that have been played. I have now become an advocate of replay. It has become obvious to me that the umpires are not qualified to have the final decision at any point in a baseball game. It appears to me that tenure in the umpiring profession is stronger than tenure in education. It doesn't seem to matter how well an umpire does his job, just how long he has been doing it. Maybe that is why I still have to listen to Tim McCarver.

8.      If this Ball/strike box that the networks keep showing us              accurate, why do I need an "opinion" from an umpire to make the final call? Why should he do anything more than hold the ball/strike counter in his hand and look for obstruction calls?

Major League Baseball needs to take a look at this stuff. The World Series is going on and this should be the pinnacle of the baseball season. This should be the greatest show on Earth. This should be the "can't miss" event of the year. But what it seems to be turning into is something to click onto during the commercials of Two and A Half Men just to catch the score.    

The Red Sox' Tenth Man, Joe Maddon 

Many of us just witnessed one of the most embarrassing losses of the years for the Tampa Bay Rays. They had the game in their hands and they gave it away. I am very careful not to say that they let it slip away because they in fact gave it away. To be more precise, Joe Maddon gave it away.  

Why in Heaven's name was Grant Balfour still in the game after he gave up his second hit in the seventh? Why was Dan Wheeler still in the game after the second runner reached base in the eighth? In case you didn't notice, the Rays had lefty J.P. Howell ready in the bullpen on both occasions. That is not to mention two other lefties who could have been ready in Trever Miller and the much-heralded David Price. I don't even think that Chad Bradford even picked up a ball in the bullpen tonight and he is the highest paid pitcher on the staff.   

The Rays lost the first game of this series 2 - 1 and I believe Maddon was responsible for that simply because he didn't give his team a chance to win. Late in the game he had runners on first and third with no outs and didn't do anything. Dice-K was almost unhittable that night and the Rays were down 1 - 0. Cliff Floyd was the runner on first and Maddon let him run when he had Fernando Perez in the dugout. He let hitters hit with a 3 - 0 count, and they failed. He had two chances to bring in the tying run with a safety squeeze first and a suicide squeeze if that failed. If the Rays had scored that run, they would have continued the game with a tie score and had proof that they could score a run against Matsuzaka. 

I have so totally enjoyed BoltBacker's "Name That Movie" series that I decided to challenge him with some of my favorite sports movie quotes.

Give it your best shot!

1. Despite my rejection of most Judeo-Christian ethics, I am within the framework of a baseball season, monogamous.

2. I never should have left the lingerie business, I was the happiest man in womens underwear.

3. He's not gonna wanna load the bases. So look low and away...but watch out for in your ear.

4. Sex and golf are the two things you can enjoy even if you are not good at them.

5. Sometimes when you win, you really lose, and sometimes when you lose you really win, and sometimes when you win or lose, you actually tie, and sometimes when you tie you actually win or lose. Winning or losing is all one organic mechanism, from which one extracts what one needs.

6. I've never seen a team this bad! Half the players are smaller than monkey cajones, the other half are slower than smoke off shit. Where did you get these turds?

7. I, uh, yeh, I, uh.....I freely admit sir, I had no right to sell off the teams equipment like that. That won't happen again.

8. Sure you got drunk. You have the best excuse in the world for losing; no trouble losing when you got a good excuse. Winning...that can be heavy on your back too, like a monkey. You'll drop that load too when you've got an excuse. All you gotta do is learn to feel sorry for yourself. One of the best indoor sports; feeling sorry for yourself. A sport enjoyed by all, especially the born losers.

9. We will be perfect in every aspect of the game. You drop a pass, you run a mile. You miss a blocking assignment, you run a mile. You fumble the football and I will break my foot off in your John Brown hind parts and then you will run a mile.

10. I'm gonna open his hole like this. Please excuse my French. I'm gonna make him suffer. I'm gonna make his mother wish she never had him...make him into dog meat. He's a nice...a nice kid. He's a pretty kid too. I mean, I don't know. I gotta problem if I should f**k him or fight him

BONUS QUESTION:

"It's the old, old story. Boy meets girl - Romeo and Juliet - Minneapolis and St. Paul."

I'll check back too see how you are all doing.

Good Luck!