- There is still a large favorite player void in my life, left by Manny Ramirez. I love Josh Beckett, but it sucks having a pitcher as your favorite player. He only plays every 5 games, and even though the Sox are probably the most televised team in the country, I'm still lucky if I get to watch him pitch 3 times a year. Kevin Youkilis is out; while I love that he's on my team, I realize he's one of those Shane Battier/Derek Jeter type guys that you absolutely hate if he's not. Youk would annoy me to no end if he played anywhere else. There are some things I like about J.D. Drew: He's come up big in some pretty clutch spots; I model my batting stance after him (I know, it's only slow pitch softball- who gives a shit) and we've both had the exact same scruff on our respective chins since the day the puberty gods gave us the gift of facial hair. But the bottom line is that my favorite player can't be one of the 5 most overpaid players in the game, have an on-field demeanor that makes Dice-K look positively animated, and have a plate approach that makes Henry Rowengartner look like a free-swinger. Sorry.
"Step in the box, JD. You have to at least watch the third strike go by before I can call you out."Jed Lowrie was making a move for the top spot last year, but has spent pretty much this whole year injured, so I don't know. At gunpoint, I guess my favorite player is Dustin Pedroia. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement. It sucks not having a "boy."
- The second distressing thing (and I'm trying to figure out if it's connected to Manny leaving or not) is I've completely lost that faith that the Sox would always come back in the playoffs; that same faith that blossomed so beautifully during the comeback in '04. In 2005, I was convinced that not only would they come back and beat the White Sox after they fell down 0-2, but that they would go on to win the World Series again- and I was shocked when they didn't. In 2007, I wasn't hitting the panic button at all when they went down 3 games to 1 against Cleveland in the ALCS. Then last year, Manny left, and when they fell down 3-1 to Tampa, I completely cashed in the season. Same thing this year. I figured the series was over the minute that Beckett gave up the two-run triple in the 7th inning of Game 2 (three batters AFTER Francona should've pulled him- that was positively Grady Little-esque there.) Even with Papelbon blowing a lead in Game 3, and giving up his first postseason runs in his career in the process, I wasn't even surprised, just resigned to the fact. I think it's pretty safe to say that nobody wants to see me revert back to my pre-2004 state, as far as cheering for my teams in concerned.
- The third distressing thing about the Sox: they have basically switched spots with the Yankees in a lot of ways. Back in the day, the thing I could hang my hat on (and quite literally, the thing that helped me fall asleep at night after I would get done watching the Yankees eliminate the Sox from the playoffs) was that at least I was cheering for the good guys. The Yankees were a very professional, very talented team. A bunch of guys who went out and played good baseball, but didn't look like they enjoyed each other's company. The old "25 cabs for 25 guys" philosophy. Meanwhile, the Sox had character guys like Manny, Ortiz, Pedro, Kevin Millar, Bronson Arroyo, Johnny Damon back when he was cool, etc. etc.
This just in: I still hold a grudge against Johnny Damon for signing with New York. A lot of things have changed in the last four years for me. This is not one of them.Back then, the Sox were always playing loose, making up crazy handshakes, cracking jokes, and generally just having fun. Even though they also had a ton of talent (and a large payroll) you truly felt like you were rooting for a huge underdog, like the Bad News Bears, or when the boys from The Sandlot takes on the douchebag Rose Park Tigers.
Nowadays, the Sox are a collection of professionals who do their jobs well, but do it in the most literal sense: like it's their job. It never looks like they're having a lot of fun. And then I change the channel, and the Yankees are hitting each other in the face with shaving cream pies, and making up their own cool handshakes, and inventing the new thing on a walk-off homer where the batter comes down the third-base line and throws his helmet like a bouquet at a wedding and half the team fights over catching it.....and it makes me sad.
- I despise the Angels. And not just because they play the Sox every year in the playoffs. I hated them in 2002, when they had a good run during a down year for baseball, and Mike Scioscia was immediately placed among the best managers in the game for some reason. I don't care that you lead the league in going from first to third on a base hit. I don't care that you reach 3 million fans every year. Your stadium seats 45,000 people; you should hit that mark. Besides, in the playoffs your crowd turns into 25-35% Boston fans anyway. Two words: Rally Monkey. Two more: you suck.
- So now we have another situation similar to 2003. Back then, Fundy and I were gearing up for a Red Sox/Cubs World Series, which would've pitted Culligan roommates against each other (as well as most of the sports-following world) in an epic battle. Then Steve Bartman and Aaron Boone happened, and we both agreed to completely boycott every second of the World Series. We didn't watch a single pitch, and every time the highlights came on Sportscenter, we changed the channel. To this day, the only proof I have that the series even happened is the highlight of Beckett recording the final out, and only because they would show it before every one of his starts for the first couple years after he signed with Boston.
And now this year, instead of a Twins/Red Sox series which would've gone done down in history among my friends and I....my two least favorite teams in the world are playing each other. Whoever wins this shitfest, I'm unhappy, so it's time to do what I do best in these situations: complain about it, and then quit. Let the official boycott of the 2009 ALCS begin.....now.
