The First Entry/Red Sox Rant
If there is such a thing as a panic button, the Red Sox need to push it. Now. They are about ten games and two months overdue for a major wake-up call, and I think last night's debacle and Tuesday's embarrassing, calamitous mess of a loss to the Yankees put me over the edge.
I'm tired of this team. I'm tired of their excuses. I'm tired of listening to Terry Francona and his "glass is always half full" perspective. I'm tired of hearing Theo Epstein tell us that this team is good, they just need to get on a good streak. And I'm pretty tired of Kevin "Cowboy Up" Millar, who I might just have to call out to a high-noon meeting if he doesn't actually get on some sort of horse and to first base, somehow. This is ridiculous. This list of Sox excuses is longer than Johnny Damon's beard, and frankly, I'm sick of both.
Fenway is sold out for every home game. Every time I go to the park, more than 34,000 fans pack the seats. Hundreds more wander around Kenmore Square, looking for any way to get in to see their beloved Sox. They've been showing up all season, but the players - and the excitement - are nowhere to be found.
Last night (not to mention the night before) epitomized a horrible season so far: the Sox give you a glimmer of a win, and then they just let it slip away. and that's the most aggravating part of it all. They just let it happen! "Oops... I dropped the ball... oh well, there will be thousands more to hit to me throughout the season, I'll just get one of those next time." Or, "Yeah, maybe I shoulda held up my swing, but uhh yeah, Cowboy Up for some more KFC."
The worst offender of all is Terry Francona. Did he forget that he is managing in Boston, Massachusetts, where people regard Red Sox Opening Day as one of the most holy? Every time I see or hear him, I think he should be wearing a "life is good" t-shirt, with a picture of the world blowing up on the back. Seriously. Exaggeration? I don't think so. This guy is in way over his head. I sure hope Curt Schilling got a hefty thank you note, but we're all owed apologies! We needed a new manager, and what we got was one of those blow-up dolls that sings the same stupid, annoying happy song every time you pull the string:
"How's Nomar?"
"Oh happy happy day I am so happy to be here, life is so good, Nomar is so good."
"What's up with Pedro during the first inning, when it looks like he's throwing batting practice?"
"Oh, happy happy day I am so happy to be here, life is so good, Pedro is so good."
"Does Derek Lowe need psychological help?"
"Oh happy happy day I am so happy to be here, life is so good, Derek Lowe is so good."
I know a manager is in a precarious position - he has to answer to his players, management, and fans - but come on, let's show some emotion. I want to see a closed-door meeting, and I want to see food tables overturned. How about a couple of water coolers kicked in the dugout? Heck, I'd take a player slamming his GLOVE against the bench. Just anything to show me that they're not robots, but that they are actually registering the height to which they stink.
Something has to change - and fast. I liked Moneyball, but right now I am ready to throw Bill James off the Tobin Bridge. They need to realize something isn't clicking (thank you, Captain Obvious) and start revamping their system. If they've got a guy on second with nobody out, i want to see a sacrifice bunt! Followed by a sacrifice fly! Until these guys can prove they are the actual big league players that the backs of their jerseys claim they are, they need to start playing small ball and manufacturing some runs already.
Here's the technical argument: if you're up 2-0 in a game, and you start manufacturing runs, suddenly, the game completely changes. The other team is no longer within a run or two, and they have to be on the defensive. A 4-0 deficit is much different than a 2-0: the decisions about pitching and batting change. Maybe you don't pinch hit, maybe you go with your second-rate reliever.
And what's with the no bunting? Jerry Remy is the guru of all things Red Sox, and when he's begging you to bunt, for godsake, give the man a bunt! And what does it tell you when Jason Varitek (though I do love him) has the same number of stolen bases as Johnny Damon?? (4) Jason Varitek! Unreal! Seriously! Why don't they just bring the players some lawn chairs and a cool lemonade while they sit at first base? They sure aren't going anywhere!
And how about Nomar? Let's talk about Nomar. The Red Sox management (and many fans) are like a dumb girl not getting the signals from the boy she's in love with. Let me break it to all of them: he's not interested! He's been dropping (not so subtle) hints all season long. First, the mysterious Achilles injury that took FOREVER to heal. Then, he said this year's "Nomar Bowl" would be the last. Anyone hear a door slamming there? It's like saying, "This is our last date," and then having a girl sit by the phone, waiting for the boy to call. Give it up already! I think Byung-Hyung Kim would have more fun at a fan meet-and-greet than Nomar has been having all season! The guy looks miserable!
But perhaps worse than miserable, he's terrible! He keeps making awful, awful errors and he's batting .250. His excuse? "I haven't seen major league pitching at all this year, so this is like my spring training." Oh! Oh! Stupid us! We assumed that after two months of extensive rehabilitation, at only the best facilities with only the best trainers, that you would be ready to actually play the game! I'm sorry! We looked at Trot Nixon and saw that he didn't see a single pitch since October and he's doing just fine... no errors, decent average, even some homeruns! Well geeee golly, soembody cue the Terry Francona blow up doll, cause I'm out of happy things to say about Mr. Garciaparra and his injury and his misery and his horrible playing.
That's right. In case you haven't gotten it from this anger induced tirade, I'm sick of the Red Sox. I'm so sick of trying to get excited about this team. There's no excitement. There's no anticipation. And what's really troubling is that there seems to be no cure. Remember August 2001? Joe Kerrigan was in town over the weekend with the Phillies, and I almost had to doublecheck to make sure he wasn't still at the helm of this Red Sox ship, ready to crash into every iceberg in sight. I just think this team is done. Me! I have no optimism! I have no reason to think it's going to get any better, because problems are just everywhere!
The Sox are playing the Yankees tonight. Everyone talks about this rivalry between them. What rivalry? Right now, the Sox would be better suited to play the Yankees' Triple A affiliate. There is no contest between the Yankees and the Red Sox. There can't be a rivalry if both teams don't show up to play, and I don't know about you, but I haven't seen the Sox that I really know and love all season long.
I'm tired of this team. I'm tired of their excuses. I'm tired of listening to Terry Francona and his "glass is always half full" perspective. I'm tired of hearing Theo Epstein tell us that this team is good, they just need to get on a good streak. And I'm pretty tired of Kevin "Cowboy Up" Millar, who I might just have to call out to a high-noon meeting if he doesn't actually get on some sort of horse and to first base, somehow. This is ridiculous. This list of Sox excuses is longer than Johnny Damon's beard, and frankly, I'm sick of both.
Fenway is sold out for every home game. Every time I go to the park, more than 34,000 fans pack the seats. Hundreds more wander around Kenmore Square, looking for any way to get in to see their beloved Sox. They've been showing up all season, but the players - and the excitement - are nowhere to be found.
Last night (not to mention the night before) epitomized a horrible season so far: the Sox give you a glimmer of a win, and then they just let it slip away. and that's the most aggravating part of it all. They just let it happen! "Oops... I dropped the ball... oh well, there will be thousands more to hit to me throughout the season, I'll just get one of those next time." Or, "Yeah, maybe I shoulda held up my swing, but uhh yeah, Cowboy Up for some more KFC."
The worst offender of all is Terry Francona. Did he forget that he is managing in Boston, Massachusetts, where people regard Red Sox Opening Day as one of the most holy? Every time I see or hear him, I think he should be wearing a "life is good" t-shirt, with a picture of the world blowing up on the back. Seriously. Exaggeration? I don't think so. This guy is in way over his head. I sure hope Curt Schilling got a hefty thank you note, but we're all owed apologies! We needed a new manager, and what we got was one of those blow-up dolls that sings the same stupid, annoying happy song every time you pull the string:
"How's Nomar?"
"Oh happy happy day I am so happy to be here, life is so good, Nomar is so good."
"What's up with Pedro during the first inning, when it looks like he's throwing batting practice?"
"Oh, happy happy day I am so happy to be here, life is so good, Pedro is so good."
"Does Derek Lowe need psychological help?"
"Oh happy happy day I am so happy to be here, life is so good, Derek Lowe is so good."
I know a manager is in a precarious position - he has to answer to his players, management, and fans - but come on, let's show some emotion. I want to see a closed-door meeting, and I want to see food tables overturned. How about a couple of water coolers kicked in the dugout? Heck, I'd take a player slamming his GLOVE against the bench. Just anything to show me that they're not robots, but that they are actually registering the height to which they stink.
Something has to change - and fast. I liked Moneyball, but right now I am ready to throw Bill James off the Tobin Bridge. They need to realize something isn't clicking (thank you, Captain Obvious) and start revamping their system. If they've got a guy on second with nobody out, i want to see a sacrifice bunt! Followed by a sacrifice fly! Until these guys can prove they are the actual big league players that the backs of their jerseys claim they are, they need to start playing small ball and manufacturing some runs already.
Here's the technical argument: if you're up 2-0 in a game, and you start manufacturing runs, suddenly, the game completely changes. The other team is no longer within a run or two, and they have to be on the defensive. A 4-0 deficit is much different than a 2-0: the decisions about pitching and batting change. Maybe you don't pinch hit, maybe you go with your second-rate reliever.
And what's with the no bunting? Jerry Remy is the guru of all things Red Sox, and when he's begging you to bunt, for godsake, give the man a bunt! And what does it tell you when Jason Varitek (though I do love him) has the same number of stolen bases as Johnny Damon?? (4) Jason Varitek! Unreal! Seriously! Why don't they just bring the players some lawn chairs and a cool lemonade while they sit at first base? They sure aren't going anywhere!
And how about Nomar? Let's talk about Nomar. The Red Sox management (and many fans) are like a dumb girl not getting the signals from the boy she's in love with. Let me break it to all of them: he's not interested! He's been dropping (not so subtle) hints all season long. First, the mysterious Achilles injury that took FOREVER to heal. Then, he said this year's "Nomar Bowl" would be the last. Anyone hear a door slamming there? It's like saying, "This is our last date," and then having a girl sit by the phone, waiting for the boy to call. Give it up already! I think Byung-Hyung Kim would have more fun at a fan meet-and-greet than Nomar has been having all season! The guy looks miserable!
But perhaps worse than miserable, he's terrible! He keeps making awful, awful errors and he's batting .250. His excuse? "I haven't seen major league pitching at all this year, so this is like my spring training." Oh! Oh! Stupid us! We assumed that after two months of extensive rehabilitation, at only the best facilities with only the best trainers, that you would be ready to actually play the game! I'm sorry! We looked at Trot Nixon and saw that he didn't see a single pitch since October and he's doing just fine... no errors, decent average, even some homeruns! Well geeee golly, soembody cue the Terry Francona blow up doll, cause I'm out of happy things to say about Mr. Garciaparra and his injury and his misery and his horrible playing.
That's right. In case you haven't gotten it from this anger induced tirade, I'm sick of the Red Sox. I'm so sick of trying to get excited about this team. There's no excitement. There's no anticipation. And what's really troubling is that there seems to be no cure. Remember August 2001? Joe Kerrigan was in town over the weekend with the Phillies, and I almost had to doublecheck to make sure he wasn't still at the helm of this Red Sox ship, ready to crash into every iceberg in sight. I just think this team is done. Me! I have no optimism! I have no reason to think it's going to get any better, because problems are just everywhere!
The Sox are playing the Yankees tonight. Everyone talks about this rivalry between them. What rivalry? Right now, the Sox would be better suited to play the Yankees' Triple A affiliate. There is no contest between the Yankees and the Red Sox. There can't be a rivalry if both teams don't show up to play, and I don't know about you, but I haven't seen the Sox that I really know and love all season long.
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