Varitek

Varitek entry to come this weekend, I reckon. Will give you a reason to check back, I guess?

ALCS pitching rotation

Game 1: Matsuzaka
Game 2: Beckett
Game 3: Lester
Game 4: Wakefield
Game 5: Matsuzaka
Game 6: Beckett
Game 7: Lester

Are you shitting me, Terry? It's like our can-do-no-wrong Postseason managerial genius has been replaced by Grady Little. First of all, Wakefield over Byrd? Secondly, how in God's name is Jon Lester not going until Game 3? Perhaps you're trying to save him for Game 7. That logic is on par with Grady saving Williamson and Timlin for Game 8 in 2003. There is no Game 7 if you've already lost four games, Terry. With Beckett being a total question mark this postseason, Lester has to go in Game 2. You cannot risk the series going back to Fenway already down 0-2. You just can't. I suppose you could argue that Lester is much better at home. I get that and all, but you're really gambling that Beckett is 100 percent healthy, and that Game 3 against the Angels was just a fuck-up. I'm baffled by this move. Really. I'm trying to rationalize it and I can't.

More suckful Patriots news

Tom Brady is reportedly out for the season, though the Patriots have not confirmed it. I am officially on suicide watch*.

Rest in peace, 2008 New England Patriots. We hardly knew, ye.






*Not to be taken seriously. I have too much student debt to be able to kill myself with a good conscience.

"I would like to look up in the stars one night and say, 'Goddamnit, we did it.'"

That was said by Theodore Samuel Williams, who would have been 90 years old today. He came two years short of seeing his beloved Sox win it all. I was thinking about Teddy Ballgame and some other Old Timers today while watching the Major League debut of Michael Bowden. Let me emphasize that any time you can replace David Pauley's spot start in your major league rotation, it's a good thing. Bowden is one of those young kids like Jed Lowrie who just lives for the game of baseball and respects the game so much. I think Ted Williams would be proud of him.

He pitched all right -- nothing spectacular -- but good enough to get the win. Bowden features a four-seamer, curve and changeup. He's got a really funky delivery that looks like torture on the elbow. Today Orsillo or Remy (can't remember which) commented that he was under strict orders to pitch what Tek told him to pitch. So he mostly stuck with a fastball in the 91-94 mph range. His pitch fx charts are here, in case you're a nerd like me. The highlight of the night was definitely watching him talk to Sean Casey in the dugout while Okajima finished the game. He had this radiant smile on his face. I can't imagine what must have been going through his head as he realized that he was really about to get his first major league win. I hope there are many more to come.

Coco decided to spread the flu around the clubhouse, so in Youkilis' absence, Pedroia was moved down to cleanup. I fall more in love with Dustin Pedroia every single night. He was 4-for-4 tonight with an IBB, double and two runs. And in one of the funnier moments of the season, he slid into second base headfirst on the double and probably should have been out, but he averted the tag and was correctly called safe. Francona and Ozzie Guillen both ran out of the dugout instantaneously to argue the call, but Francona hadn't realized that he was actually called safe. He immediately turned around and walked back with a sheepish look on his face, prompting Jerry and Don to go into one of their patented laughing fits. Pedroia also went 4-for-4 last night with three runs, a walk and two stolen bases. He's now been on base in 10 consecutive at-bats. I know that hardware means nothing these days given the idiots who still have votes (Joe Morgan?), and he won't win the AL MVP award, but I hope he does get his fair share of votes. He and Youkilis are both putting up incredible offensive seasons.

It’s 2 a.m., I’m drunk again, It’s heavy on my mind

Today was a fairly traumatic day. I found out Carl Yastrzemski was admitted to Mass General for bypass surgery. Two nights ago I had a dream that Yaz died, which was really eerie. But I send my good thoughts Yaz's way in the hopes of a speedy recovery.

On another devastatingly depressing note, LeRoi Moore left this world today. No, it has nothing to do with baseball, but he has everything to do with me. I don't know how the guys are still playing at Staples right now, as I type this. I can't even see my keyboard through the tears. I love you, brother. Sometimes a tragedy in life is all you need to completely forget about how meaningless baseball really is.

Just one month ago, my boyfriend and I filmed a video with 40,000 of our closest friends, chanting "WE WANT ROI" repeatedly. Jeff Coffin will never be able to replace you, Roi.




"And if I go, before I'm old,
Oh brother of mine, please don't forget me..."

Manny Being Manny: The Saga Ends

Let me preface this blog entry by saying I'm a little drunk. Maybe that's the state of mind you need to be in to write about Manny Aristides Ramirez and his legacy with the Boston Red Sox. Look, Manny needed to leave the Red Sox. Whether or not you believe the report that the Red Sox had a secret meeting where the team voted 24-1 that Ramirez should be gone ... he had to go. He had worn out his welcome in Boston. He turned his organization into a Circus Act. He wasn't happy in Boston (had he ever been?) and the front office clearly had no plans to extend his option. So you sell Manny for 50 cents on the dollar? That's what had to be done. Personally, I won't miss Craig Hansen and I won't miss Brandon Moss, who in our organization was always going to be a fourth outfielder at best. I will miss Manny's bat, but I'm excited about what Jason Bay will bring to the Red Sox. I'm excited to see a real defensive left fielder, to see how he adjusts to playing in Boston, in front of the Green Monster, and in the AL East among real competition and a pennant race. I'm not asking Jason Bay to be Manny Ramirez. I have realistic expectations for how this season will progress, and I feel excited for 2009.

That being said, I wanted to reflect on Manny. And what better way to close out Manny's career than a Top 5 List of Manny Being Manny moments. The zany, the awesome, the clutch, the incredible. These are my favorite Manny moments.

1) Easily my favorite moment is the 2007 walk-off home run off K-Rod. I'll always remember I was in Atlanta at a Sox bar watching this game with George. I felt good about it from the start, because the Sox absolutely own the Angels in the postseason. After intentionally walking David Ortiz, Manny was given an inside fastball from K-Rod that sealed the game and the series. He lifted both arms in the air in a "Touchdown" motion. He knew it was gone and all of Fenway and RSN did too. I've never been so overjoyed by any hit of Manny Ramirez. I went nuts, running around the bar and hugging random strangers. Thanks, Manny. This was your finest moment.



2) July 21, 2004: Manny's cutoff. In one of the most bizarre defensive sequences in baseball history, Manny Ramirez played cutoff man to Johnny Damon's throw ... from about 15 feet away in left field. David Newhan's sure double caromed off the wall and Damon threw to in to the infield. Ramirez decided to dive for the ball to play cutoff man ... in the fucking outfield. Needless to say, Newhan turned the play into an inside-the-park home run. It's safe to say we members of RSN will not miss Manny's defense. Speaking of which ...

3) September 2004, Manny robbing Miguel Cairo of a home run in the Bronx. Cairo was so sure he hit a home run that he shook hands with Kenny Lofton, who was on deck at the time. Ramirez still ranks the catch as the best one he ever made. The catch proved to prevent the tying run from scoring against the Yankees, and the Sox came back against Rivera and won 3-2. I will never forget Manny actually coming down with the ball, then motioning into the Yankee dugout with his trademark two-armed point. The look on Cairo's face was incredible. Bless you, Manny.



4) Going along with No. 3, you absolutely cannot write about Manny's zaniest moments without mentioning this year's catch ... an out-of-this-world catch followed by high-fiving a fan in the first row of the left field seats and doubling up Aubrey Huff at first base. The video is located at this site. "Only Manny," comments Jerry Remy. His re-creation of the catch in the dugout with Ortiz is absolutely priceless. Please watch the video again. It's Classic Manny.

5) "Manny's back and he's back BIG." 2005, trading deadline, many Red Sox fans were sure he was going to be traded after expressing disappointment with the organization (some things never change). Manny enters the game in the eighth inning to pinch hit against Juan Rincon and ends up driving in the winning run, a little squibler past Nick Punto and Luis Rodriguez. He came in to a standing ovation and the hit prompted Don Orsillo's rather lame but enduring quote. Sox win 4-3. After the game Manny said, "Forget about the trade man. This is the place I want to be man. It’s a great man. They love me here man. This is the place to be. ‘Manny being Manny,’ he’s great man…we’ve been through a lot; this is the place for me. I’m just happy to be here…I’m back."

There are lots of other moments that stand out. Not just Manny failing to run out ground balls, or rolling over balls in the outfield. The errors in the 2004 World Series. The 2004 World Series MVP speech where he misspoke and said it was our "destination," not our destiny, to win. Getting drinks with Enrique Wilson. Not pinch-hitting in Philly (Thanks, Trot!) Losing his diamond earing in an exhibition game. Wearing an MP3 player in the field. Taking a leak in the Green Monster while Wade Miller was pitching. The hilarious SportsCenter commercial that's been airing lately. Selling his grill on Ebay. "Jeter is playing golf. This is better." Living in the Four Seasons for year after year. Running out on to the field with an American flag after he obtained his citizenship. Home run No. 500, which he hit when my dad and I were driving to Maine and barely had radio reception to hear Joe Castiglione call the homer. The first home run that he hit for the Red Sox in his first at-bat at Fenway. He, of course, went on to win AL Player of the Month and hit .408 with 31 RBI. For better or worse, all of these moments stand out.

One of the 25 ... always. I have an extensive photo collection of the Red Sox. Here are some of my favorites:

June 5, 2008

*Note: I haven’t updated this blog at all this season. Every time I come here and read my last entry about the Patriots, it just hurts too much to write anything new. And while I don’t think I’ll ever get over what happened in Super Bowl XLII, I wanted to write about the most surreal night of my life. Here goes nothing.
_________________________________________

On June 5, 2008, thanks to a propitious auction and family connections, I experienced one of the greatest nights of my life. I was an honored guest of a very rich Bostonian in a private EMC-level suite at Fenway Park. At 6:05 p.m., starting pitcher Jon Lester threw the first pitch in what would be the consummate Tampa Bay-Boston game I’ve ever had the privilege to watch. And I’ve seen a plethora of Rays-Red Sox games. The night ended with my father and two of our dear family friends watching the Celtics defeat the Lakers in Game 1 of the NBA Finals. I suppose I should mention we were watching said game on a 60-inch HD flatscreen television at Fenway Park. I digress. Let’s start from the beginning.

My grandmother, being the saint that she is, promised she’d secure a pair of Red Sox tickets for the week that my dad and I could be in Boston. She went to an auction with an old friend of my dad’s, Larry. Unfortunately, Larry was outbid for seats for the June 4 game by some millionaire from Beverly who invented a kidney dialysis machine. As it turned out, the guy is a friend of Larry’s and offered to give my dad, Larry, his son and me his private suite for the next night. A consolation prize, if you will. We begrudgingly agreed. (Sense the sarcasm?)

When walking into the private EMC Club entrance of Fenway, the Red Sox do a great job of making you feel like a million bucks. You walk up a ramp past the players’ lot, soaking in more Escalades, Mercedes and BMWs than you’ve ever seen. You’re whisked into the main EMC Club lobby. We liked to consider this the common area for the peasant folks who only have “regular” EMC level seats. This is the area that used to be glassed-in and called the 600 Club/.406 Club. Screw those patrons, they actually have to pay for food and drinks all night.

We bumped into Dennis Eckersley near the bar in the “peasant” EMC Club. He was happy to take a photograph with me, although I can’t say he was pleased when my father had the audacity to tell Eck that he remembered him when he was a “real pitcher.” Talk about embarrassing. Next, we were offered the opportunity to try on a 2007 World Series ring valued at $22,000. The four of us graciously tried on the massive, jewel-encrusted symbol of last season’s success, which was the size of my entire first knuckle. Another Fenway employee then allowed us to take pictures with the 2007 World Series Trophy. After posing for a picture with a Hall of Fame pitcher, trying on the most expensive piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen and touching the World Series trophy, I felt like anything else that happened on that night would be anticlimactic. I was wrong.

We purposely arrived at the park an hour and a half early to take advantage of the entirely free and unlimited food and drinks in our private suite. We opened the door to our suite and I was in instant heaven. When the first thing you notice isn’t the amazing view of Fenway Park, you know you’re in a great place. Leather couches and recliners, framed pictures of all of the Red Sox legends, our own huge, wall-mounted HD television, our very own bathroom with a brass sink and a picture of Ted Williams looking down on you as you pee. Our own refrigerator with enough free water, soft drinks and beer to last fifty people an entire game. Shiny wood floors that looked like they’d just been buffed. A computer with free Internet, you know, in case want to check in on the SoSH Game Thread. The largest assembly of popcorn I’ve ever seen in a metal Boston Red Sox container sitting on our coffee table. And that was just the beginning of the food. Hot plates were already set up with sausages, fried chicken wings and onions. Forget $5 Fenway Franks and $7 chicken sandwiches. On our “kitchen table” sat trays of crackers and cheese and a fruit platter of strawberries and grapes. And the best part of the food experience (well besides not paying for any of it)? An employee would come by every inning or so and make sure you didn’t need anything else. One of the millionaire’s sons decided he’d had enough of all the free sausages and chicken he could ask for. So the Fenway employees brought him an entire pizza within a few minutes. At one point, they brought around an ice cream sundae cart and let us have whatever we wanted. I never got to get one of those upside down baseball cap sundaes when I was a kid. So I had three to make up for my deprived childhood. You better believe I took the caps home.

Walking out of the suite and into the outdoor seats the view was just spectacular. So spectacular that I didn’t want to even get up between innings to partake in the free food. We were sitting on the third base side. If you looked straight down you could drop a chicken wing on the third base field box seats. It was, quite frankly, the most amazing view of Fenway I’ve ever seen. You were high enough to see all of the action. There was no pole in your way and no need to crane your neck because you seat doesn’t quite face home plate. No jackasses walked in front of you bringing their fifth $7.50 beer of the night. To my immediate left was the Monster. And to my right was the press box. Down below, I was watching a spectacular game in the greenest baseball park you’ve ever seen.

We saw Hondo throw out the first pitch after a great video montage of the Celtics. “Beat LA” chants were started repeatedly from the onset of the game. Everyone’s minds were on the Celtics, that is, until the bench-clearing melee at the pitcher’s mound when Coco Crisp laid a haymaker on James Shields. Everything else that transpired in the game was just details after seeing such a riveting brawl. I do remember that it was unusually chilly that night. No problem, though. We just turned on our heaters that were fixed above the suite. I sat there in awe of where I was throughout the entire nine innings. When the Celtics game started around the seventh or eighth inning, a few of the millionaires who were used to this luxury left the outdoor “Fenway” area and went inside to watch the game. I knew I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t soak up every drop of where I was seated. So I stayed and tried to memorize every nook and cranny of Fenway Park. I’ve been to Fenway hundreds of times, but I felt like I was seeing this baseball cathedral from a whole new perspective. Among all the opulent folks just in the suites to make an appearance sat a girl who knew she was in Heaven.

When the game finally ended, the four of us just couldn’t leave. I knew I’d probably never get a chance to sit in a private suite at Fenway Park again. So we sat and watched the Celtics-Lakers game. We had to have been some of the last people in the park. The players had probably been gone at least an hour after their showers and pressers. At one point, a lady knocked on our door and said the outside seats were now off limits, but we could remain to watch the Celtics as long as we stayed inside the suite. I got so comfortable in my leather couch, cheering on my C’s, that I forgot where I was. But if you glanced out to the left you could still see the illuminated Fenway Park. I felt like Ray Kinsella in those winter scenes, sitting in his kitchen and waiting for something to happen on his field. Fenway Park was my backyard.

After the game we reluctantly decided that the evening had to end. Walking out, Larry’s son decided it would be a good idea to take one of the ceramic white dining plates with a Red Sox logo on it. “To take back to college,” he said. I wish I would have taken something, too. Hey, it’s not like they would have noticed if a logo-d glass or plate went missing. My conscience got the better of me though, and I left empty-handed.

Walking out, the lights in the hallway of the EMC Club were dimmed, and the cleaning crew was vacuuming, already preparing for the next night’s game. It was pitch dark outside and all of the gameday traffic on Boylston Street was long gone. Nearly all of the player vehicles were gone. There was next to no traffic on Route 1, and the four of us sat quietly listening to Celtics coverage on WEEI.

Every night at Fenway Park is a good night. This was a great night.