The party’s over, it’s time to call it a day. They’ve burst your pretty balloon and taken the moon away. It’s time to wind up the masquerade. Just make your mind up, the piper must be paid. -Nat King Cole
Public Service Announcement: Ok here we go! They did it. They really did it. We’re somebody’s now. Millions of people look at this blog everyday! This is the kind of spontaneous publicity – your name in print – that makes people. The Red Sox are in print! Things are going to start happening to them now.
Things have been happening all season, and I’m going to miss it. Deeply miss it. Sorely miss it. Like my main man Rogers Hornsby always says: “People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.” That’s what I’m doing now. I’m waiting for spring.
Waiting for another Red Sox championship run. Waiting for another wire to wire championship run. But Secretariat is all alone! He’s out there almost a 16th of a mile away from the rest of the horses! Secretariat is in a position that seems impossible to catch. As it turns out, nobody could catch the Sox. Not the Yankees. Not the Angels. Not the Indians. Not the Rockies. Not nobody. And I’m going to miss it. There’s something missing from my life. Cuts me open like a knife. It leaves me vulnerable. I have this disease. I shake like an incurable. God help me please.
Yes I’m going to miss these guys. I’m going to miss my two favorite words in the English language. Papi’s up! On his gimpy knee, he was not the Papi we knew and loved but still a force to be reckoned with. He played a flawless first base in the Series. In game three, he hit a line-drive to right smack dab in the middle of a Red Sox six-run third. Papi in the middle. Where he at? In the middle. Yep, Papi’s in the middle. Where that at? In the middle. In the middle of the line up and the middle of a championship-clinching inning.
I’m going to miss Manny being Manny. Hat falling, bare handed of the walling, leaving Kenny Lofton balling, Manny. Manny is the best right-handed batter in my lifetime. Big game? F you, pay me. Little game? F you, pay me. Fastball? F you, pay me. Change? F you, pay me. While A-Broad deserts the teams he claimed he wanted to stay with, Manny stays with the team he claimed he wanted to leave.
I’m going to miss Mike Lowell. Throw in, Mike Lowell. World Series MVP, Mike Lowell. Gold Glove, Mike Lowell. Lowell homered, doubled and scored twice in the Game Four clincher at Coors Field. His dirty uniform typifying his whatever-it-takes attitude. I hope I don’t have to miss him next season.
I’m going to miss Boom Boom Beckett. Has there ever been a bigger game pitcher? I never saw Bullet Bob Gibson. I never saw Sandy Koufax. I’ve seen Boom Boom. I’ll take my chances with him.
I’m going to miss Curt Schilling. I may be missing him forever. His winning performance in Game Two may have been his last winning performance in a Red Sox uniform. What he did one night in 2004 solidifies his place in my heart.
I’m going to miss the rookies. Mighty Mite, Dustin Pedroia. Here I come to save the day. That means that Mighty Mouse is on his way. Yes sir, when there is a wrong to right, Mighty Mouse will join the fight. On the sea or on the land, he gets the situation well in hand. Dustin Pedroia, Rookie of the Year.
Jacoby Elisbury, next year’s Rookie of the Year. Inserted into the staring order in Game Six against the Indians. Became the third rookie all time with four hits in one Series game and tied Matt Williams as the only player to hit two doubles in one series game against the Rockies in Game Three. Burning down the base paths. Hold tight, wait ’till the party’s over. Hold tight, we’re in for nasty weather. There has got to be a way. Burning down the house. Running like people were chasing him.
No No Nanette Clay Buchholz. Dice-K. Okie. The future’s so bright, they gotta wear shades. I’m going to miss Tek. The captain. Calling a game like no other. No one shakes off Tek. No one. I’ll miss Redemption Man JD Drew. I’ll miss Coco Crisp’s circus catches in center. I’ll mis John Lester. Was there a feel gooder story of the year. If so, I missed that too. I’ll miss Papelbon’s fist pumping, Irish jigging, lights out closing. I’ll even miss Julio Lugo, the latest of the revolving door shortstops around here. Yes, I will miss them all. Until next year, Roll Sox roll! Dynastic!
Public Acknowledgements: The Jerk, Chic Anderson, Police, Monie Love, Goodfellas and the Talking Heads
Public Spectacle:
Peace out homies. Six two and Even!
Need More? Boston Red Sox, MLB
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