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| Thursday, August 30, 2007 |
| A Sea of Pinstripes |
Ok, it's official. I'm starting to worry. I've been desperately holding on to the party line of "We've got the best record in baseball" but the Red Sox are starting to concern me.
I know that even if we lose today, the Sox will still be five games up. But when the camera panned to a shot of Manny on the bench last night, during which he happened to sneeze, then grimace, then reach for his back? Let's just say you could actually hear everyone at Prof. Thom's thinking "Oh shit".
I'm wondering if I am only so worried because of where I live. Is this easier to take in Boston? When not surrounded by Yankees fans trying to plant the seeds of doubt into your consciousness at every turn? Or are we all sort of looking over our shoulders and not sleeping well?
Either way, I'm not enjoying this feeling.Labels: baseball, Boston, Red Sox |
posted by FINY @ Thursday, August 30, 2007   |
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| Wednesday, August 22, 2007 |
| Things That Are Fun |
... When you get home from a night at the bar already knowing that the Sox won and turning on the YES network to see the Yankees losing to the Angels 18-5 while the announcers talk about how if so-and-so gets on in the 8th and has men in base he has the potential to break some sort of RBI record.
I landed on YES too late to get the whole story, but it was still fun to hear. Cause after tonight it looks like we're going to be 6 games up and for some reason that feels a lot better than 5 games. Dunno why, but it does.
This post brought to you by the wonderful bartender at Botanica, who makes a very stiff drink indeed. There really should be a breathalyzer on computers so you're not allowed to drunk-blog, email, etc.Labels: baseball, Boston, drinking, Red Sox |
| posted by FINY @ Wednesday, August 22, 2007 |
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| Monday, August 20, 2007 |
| He's Still My Little Brother |
I still remember where I was when I found out that I had become the big sister to a little brother named Buddy (ok, that's not his real name but it's what I call him). I was sitting in the side yard of my grandparents' house in Pawtucket, RI debating with the other kids on the block whether I wanted my mom to have a boy or a girl.
I may have been just 4 days shy of my 6th birthday, but I was still adamant. I wanted a little brother. The reasoning for this escapes me now, more than two decades later, but then, I was sure, absolutely sure.
And for the first couple of years it was great. He was like a living doll. I'd dress him up in my Cabbage Patch Kid Clothes and stick him in a playpen with all of my stuffed animals until all you could see was his chubby little face.
But then he learned how to get around. And more importantly, how to get into my stuff. That's when I turned to my mother and asked him if it was time for him to go back yet. And around the time I left him out of a family portrait I had to draw for school.
The years that followed involved a lot of me being a really big bitch. All this little kid wanted in the world was to play with his big sister. He'd wait at the screen door for me to come home from school holding my Barbies out for me to play with (since that was ALL I would allow him to participate in). And for his devotion he received all of the Ken's without heads and the Barbies I had given hair cuts to. Oh and did I mention they were also without clothes? Not to mention that they lived in the next neighborhood over, so they could NEVER speak to my Barbies. That was completely against the rules.
As I moved into my teens and began fighting with my parents, Buddy had finally reached the stage where a healthy sibling rivalry had formed. Any time I was fresh to my mother he'd run up to her, wrap his arms around her, and say "Mommy, I'd NEVER say that to you!" At which point I would promptly kick his ass. Like I said, I was kind of a bitch. But he was asking for it!
But once I moved away to college things began to change. Six years is a pretty large age difference when you're young, but as the years pile up it suddenly seems to lessen. These days, he and I couldn't be closer, and I couldn't love the kid any more than I do. He's grown into an amazing man; smart, funny, kind of a jerk but in an endearing way.
For his 21st birthday I wanted to do something big for him. So I did something competely uncharacteristic for me - I planned ahead. On a dreary day in March I spent 4 hours online and bought two tickets to this past Saturday's Red Sox game at Fenway. Buddy hadn't been there in somewhere around 10 years.
 With him leaving to go back to college tomorrow, I had to make sure that I warned him well in advance of his birthday that I had the tickets. Which meant I lost out on the "Oh my God" moment when he opened the present, but the look on his face as we walked up the walkway? The half-joking "Hey, hey Finy, you see that guy right there? That's David Ortiz. Right there. Like, in person." The goofy smile on his face? Totally made up for it. Nevermind the reaction when Big Papi hit the grand slam to take the lead. My God.
There may now be a beard where dimples used to be. And he may be able to legally drink a beer now. He may even tower over me by at least 7 inches. But that day proved he still is, and always will be, my little brother.Labels: baseball, Boston, family, Red Sox |
| posted by FINY @ Monday, August 20, 2007 |
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| Wednesday, August 15, 2007 |
| Emotional Reset |
Someone (TomO I think it was you) said at Eddypolusa this year that the annual event is sort of an emotional reset for him. As soon as the words left his mouth I thought: Yes! YES! That's exactly it.
In years past that reset, that sense of calm has always stayed with me for months. Not so for 2007. Faced with a boss whom I've described at length before, I came back and was working weekends, was working on my days off, was driving myself insane. The anxiety I felt between the hours of 9 and 5 was following me home, constantly nipping at my heels.
I was headed for a breakdown and I knew it.
And then the weekend arrived. A weekend that promised the company of some of my guy friends, some baseball, and some beer. Saturday found us in the second row of dead center field at Camden Yards watching Beckett pitch a masterful game - the only one the Sox won in the series. Saturday night there was some Mexican food, many MANY beers, and a lot of entertaining conversation.
After a hangover-curing greasy brunch, there was a surprise sailing trip. 4 guy friends, a cooler full of beer, and my first trip on a sail boat (yes I am the worst Rhode Islander ever). As we floated past the monuments, swam in the placid waters of the Potomac, and talked about absolutely nothing for hours on end, I felt further away from work than I had since my days on the St. Croix.
But a 2am arrival time back in NYC and a morning that came far too fast brought Monday crashing down on my head. And then I did the smartest thing I've done in a long time.
I called out sick.
A lazy day of no work, sleep, some tv watching, and more sleep found me sitting in the office yesterday morning with a slight smile on my face as my boss called me insubordinate. For planning a happy hour. After hours. For a coworker who was leaving.
I'd officially figured out how to emotionally reset myself. And damn did it feel good.
 Labels: baseball, drinking, friends, photos, Red Sox, travel, work |
| posted by FINY @ Wednesday, August 15, 2007 |
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| Tuesday, July 31, 2007 |
| Nothing Big |
My love of Tim Wakefield has been well documented throughout the course of this blog. A quick google search comes up with 38 separate references to him. So you all know by now that he's my favorite MLB player and not in that CFB "OMG he's so cute" way but in a I-really-respect-his-loyalty-to-the-team-and-work-horse-mentality-
never-mind-how-charitable-he-is.
So you'll all know how absolutely flabbergasted I was last night to return home to find a small package with my name on it, a slightly belated birthday present from Cope. Now, when he was sending it I was given the "Don't worry, it's nothing big" speech. Lowering expectations? Maybe. But NOTHING would have prepared me for pulling this out of the box:
Is it weird that I now want to take the day off from work just to stare at this thing?Labels: baseball, Red Sox |
| posted by FINY @ Tuesday, July 31, 2007 |
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| Thursday, June 21, 2007 |
| Baseball Brain Dump |
Since the hangover I am currently suffering through is inhibiting my ability to write a coherent blog post I instead present you with a baseball brain dump.
* So I'm currently reading Big Papi: My Story of Big Dreams and Big Hits by David Ortiz (with Tony Massarotti) and there are a few things to note. A) I have NEVER gotten as many looks on the subway as I have when I've read this book on the way to and from work. They range from amusement, confusion, disgust, and mutual affection. It's kind of fun to watch. B) Massarotti alternates between writing in his own voice and "ghost writing" in Papi's. Massarotti's chapters are fantastic. And I like hearing Papi's stories, but ... I think they went a little far in capturing Ortiz's "voice". Because the word "bro" can appear upwards of 8 times on a page. It's completely over the top and is incredibly distracting. There is a reason people don't write the way they speak.
* Last night's game was just a whole lot of fun to watch. While a girlfriend and I were at the bar watching, we started talking about those seasons. You know those seasons where it just feels right. This is one of those seasons for us. I knew I had hit a turning point as a fan when I got word of the Schilling DL stint and I thought "Ok, that sucks but no big deal". I had (and have) complete faith in the rest of our rotation to hold it together. This happens five years ago and even with a ten game lead in the AL East and I'm packing it in for the season expecting the worst. I like this way better.
* By now my love for all things Tim Wakefield has been well documented. But I also happen to have an affinity for the pitch he throws most often as well. And because of that I have been intermittently following the career of Sox prospect Charlie Zink. Zink's had an up and down career over the past couple years, but this week he threw a complete game for the Portland Sea Dogs with a 6H, 1R, 2BB, 4K line. He started out with Sarasota in 2002, is 27, and has bounced around every level of the Sox farm system, but he seems to have started getting some consistency. With my little brother heading back to the Portland area for school this August, I may try to get up there to catch a game either late in the season or early next spring. I'd love to see this kid pitch (ha, I just called him a kid - the guy's my age!).Labels: baseball, books, Boston, Red Sox, sports |
| posted by FINY @ Thursday, June 21, 2007 |
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| Tuesday, June 19, 2007 |
| You Take The Good With The Bad |
I once had a friend accuse me of caring more about 25 men I had never met more than I cared about my real-life friends.
It was October of 2004, the Red Sox had just won the ALCS in dramatic fashion and were about to sweep the St. Louis Cardinals to win their first World Series in 86 years.
But I didn't know that yet. What I knew was that we were scheduled to host a Halloween party in my apartment that, if the series made it that far, would fall on the same night as Game 7. And under no circumstances was I planning on being at the party if that proved true.
In the end we all know it didn't get that far, and I was able to both watch my team celebrate in St. Louis AND attend my own party, but that comment from my friend stuck with me.
Do non-sports fans simply not understand? In a way, it does feel like you know these guys. You read all the articles, you watch the games, by the end of the season you probably know more about them than you do about that girl who you called your best friend in third grade simply because she wore the same scrunchy you did.
And not only that, but it bonds you to other people that you actually do get to meet in real life as well. Take last night. That game sucked. It just sucked. Schilling got knocked around and even two home runs from Coco, who had only hit one home run in the entire season leading up to the game, couldn't save the Sox.
But as I stood in Professor Thom's watching the Sox implode, I began talking with a guy named Brian from the New York City Red Sox Meetup Group. As we were talking he sort of just stops for a second and says, "Finy?". Turns out Brian is an occasional commenter/regular reader (so he's one of the five of you!). Never would have met him if it wasn't for the Sox. Same holds true for quite a few of my good friends to be honest.
Loving a sports team and loving your friends are not mutually exclusive. It just occasionally gets in the way of scheduling.Labels: baseball, Boston, Red Sox, sports |
| posted by FINY @ Tuesday, June 19, 2007 |
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| Monday, May 14, 2007 |
| On Top |
Since it's never going to happen again, I clearly needed to take a screen shot:
 Yeah, that's right. That's my team, The Pink Hat Haters, sitting up at Number 1. I rule.Labels: baseball |
| posted by FINY @ Monday, May 14, 2007 |
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| Wednesday, May 09, 2007 |
| Cursing Ryan Howard |
Technically, I am not a fantasy sports virgin. I've played fantasy baseball twice, fantasy football a handful of times. But every time I've participated in a league I've wound up losing interest. Or not having the time. Suddenly it's been a week since I've checked on my roster and I'm hovering around the bottom of the standings.
This year, I vowed it would be different. Playing in a sixteen, mixed league field, winning was and is clearly going to take a lot more than a casual interaction. With so many teams, depth is key. And not something I've typically been great at. I'm taking it as a challenge. I'm also partially motivated that I'm the only female in the league that's half-filled with some of my best guy friends. If I tank, I'll be hearing about this for a while. I'm still hearing about my football team months later.
There was a problem though. I missed the draft. I was left with a team that could be called mediocre at best. With the computer picking for me, I had to live with what I was given. My new goal became not finishing last. Howard was my one pick up I was genuinely excited about.
But then something funny happened. I won the first week. Tied the second. Won the third. And Fourth. Suddenly, I'm checking my team multiple times a day. Reading up on my players. Who'll be sitting out that night. What my pitching match-ups are. I've become one of those people.
It didn't really hit me until today when, after seeing a report that Ryan Howard was going to be benched until at least Friday due to an injury, I benched him. What happens? He goes 1 for 2, with 1R, 1H, 1HR, and 4RBIs. And I had him on the bench. As I sat here and cursed towards my computer, I realized, just maybe, I have a problem.
One I'm going to embrace until I wipe the table with these guys. Ryan Howard be damned.Labels: baseball |
| posted by FINY @ Wednesday, May 09, 2007 |
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| Monday, May 07, 2007 |
| An Exercise in Pictoral Excuses |
Yes, I have been absent over the last few weeks, months, etc. But really, I've got some pretty good excuses.
First, I went to a Sox game at Yankee Stadium where I watched Dice-K pitch and the Sox win:
And ate a lot of peanuts:
After the game, I got way too wasted when the Twin showed up at Prof. Thom's after a 6 month absence. But he wasn't alone, he had the new-me with him. I held it together while at the bar, but the evening ended with me crying on the sidewalk in the Welshman's arms. Look for a post soon about the rules of post break-up behavior. I think The Twin needs a memo.
So the next day I was hoping the Sox would cheer me up when I attended the second game in the series. That didn't happen, since they lost, but at least I got to watch Wakefield pitch.
The third game in the series was watched at Thom's. Much beer was imbibed during the day. And into the night. 12 straight hours of drinking does not a good blogger make:
After a few days break in which I recovered from said weekend, I went to a very swanky and very successful Alzheimer's Association Junior Committee gala:
At which I was the PICTURE of decorum:
Two days later I was at a Cinco De Mayo party in Boston:
That didn't end until the sun was rising:
Long story short? I'm such an ass that I am not even going to promise that I'll be blogging more now (even though I will, no really, I swear).Labels: Alzheimer's, baseball, blogging, Boston, dating, drinking, misc., NYC, photos, Red Sox, sports, travel |
| posted by FINY @ Monday, May 07, 2007 |
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| Tuesday, April 24, 2007 |
| Public Service Announcement |
Tickets to the Red Sox and Yankees series starting on Friday are not yet sold out.
Or I guess, more accurately, they WERE sold out, but are no longer. I am assuming they released a chunk of seats recently, because I had tried multiple times to get tickets since they went on sale and no luck. But today on a whim I checked the site and lo and behold? I was soon the holder of four tickets. Two to Friday's game, two to Saturday's. Which at this point brings my projected total of games to 8 for the season.
I love my life.Labels: baseball, NYC, Red Sox |
| posted by FINY @ Tuesday, April 24, 2007 |
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| Monday, April 02, 2007 |
| It Starts Today |
This afternoon, the Red Sox season opens up in Kansas City. For the next six months I'll be spending even more time than I already do at the local Red Sox bar Proffesor Thom's, I'll travel to at least four different cities to see games. I'll read thousands of articles, watch ESPN obsessively, and inevitably lose my fantasy league because I can never seem to pay enough attention to it.
This weekend, in preparation for the season, 40 of us from Thom's hopped on a bus filled with six cases of beer, and invaded Philly for the last Sox spring training game. With Dice-K on the mound, and a meeting with Matty planned, I had been excited about it for weeks. It lived up to the hype. The Sox won, Ortiz hit a homer, I did, in fact, meet Matty, and the beer flowed continuously. Not a bad way to start off the season.
 Dice-K!  Matty and Finy Labels: baseball, Boston |
| posted by FINY @ Monday, April 02, 2007 |
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| Tuesday, November 01, 2005 |
| The Good Times |
As I was tidying up the dining room tonight I picked up Steven King and Stewart O’Nan’s Faithful. Flipping through I paused on the entries about various games I had been to that season. And then I landed on THE game. Or at least it was THE game in my season that season as it was the only playoff game I was actually at. It was the clinching game of the ALDS. This is what I wrote when I got back from Boston that weekend:
Ok, I have finally returned to NYC after attending the game on Friday. As many of you who were there have already said, it was the most amazing thing to see in person.
It was an absolutely perfect day for baseball. Clear, a little cool, stereotypical playoff weather. I hadn't been back to Fenway in two years and when we entered through the right field concourse area I was stunned at all the improvements to the park. Granted those grandstands seats are still as uncomfortable looking as ever, but I had standing room tickets so what did that matter?
We got there early enough to watch the Angels take batting practice and wander around the park for a while before taking our spots behind Section 16 of the grandstand. As long as everyone was sitting it was an amazing view of the game ... but being 5' 2" when people stood i needed to find people to look between to see the batter.
As can be expected, when the Angels tied the game it took the wind out of the crowd. I should note here that h0nus actually called the game tying grand slam. The pitch before, which Guerrero had swung on and missed, h0nus it should be noted we now, a year plus later, call this one assh0le said "He's swinging to tie the game". Anyway, when the Sox came up to bat next they played Eminem's "Lose Yourself" over the loudspeaker and this very old man who was standing near us actually started to kind of dance along to it. He must have been in his eighties and it was just a great thing to see him so into it. You know he's been a fan forever and is still waiting to see them win it all.
The crowd was restless after the next couple of innings. But with Pokey standing on first and Ortiz about to come up to bat the crowd was already getting pumped up as the Angels decided to bring in Washburn. I should also note here that h0nus once again semi-predicted what was about to happen when he said "Ladies and gentlemen, now pitching for the Angels, the pitcher who got rocked in game one of the series, Jarrod Washburn". And then IT happened. And the crowd went crazy.
Seriously, I've never seen anything like this in my life. EVERYONE was jumping up and down, screaming, hugging each other. The old man who had been dancing was high fiving everyone. Somehow (probably because I am so short) someone accidentally clocked me in the eye. Got a cute little bruise on my eyelid, but who cares? SO worth it!
For a while we stood on chairs in the back of the grandstand, watching the on field celebration, but eventually we decided to move down to the field level. We made it all the way to the second row, between the dugout and home plate. On the way down there, who do we see, but Pedro's midget! I didn't even see him at first as he was perched on a guy's shoulder who had passed us on the stairs, but wow. It's one thing to know the guys is small, it's a whole other to actually see him. Wish we had gotten a pic ...
During the course of the next, geez, I don't even know, 45 minutes maybe? I have no idea, players were coming out spraying the crowd with beer, champagne, etc. There's a thread in the saloon with some pics. My favorite moment by far was being sprayed with beer by Tim Wakefield (we all know how much I love him). But Manny and Millar doing the victory lap was incredible, as was seeing a very doused Ortiz riding on the back of a cart with goggles on while Damon sat up front. Kapler was really going crazy with the champagne, and Youks was throwing toy balls into the crowd. Nixon and Kapler both got on the loudspeaker, thanking the fans for being there, etc. If anyone else was there, what the hell did Nixon say?! He had a cigar in his mouth and I'm pretty sure he was hammered and I couldn't understand much of it
We stayed basically until security kicked us out. By far the most amazing game I've seen live, and one I'm probably going to remember forever.
Why focus on this now, more than a year later? Because it’s easier for me to focus on that right now than it is what is going on with our General Manager situation right now.
I’ve gotten past the emotional portion of my response to the news. Theo will always be remembered as the man who helped this team win what many thought might be impossible. He made his share of bad moves (Kim comes to mind immediately), and some amazing ones (David Ortiz anyone?) but when it comes down to it these moves were not made in a bubble and I am sure that many people had their fair share of input on them.
What bothers me, and worries me the MOST here, is that in an offseason when the Sox really needed to focus on re-signing some key players and patching the holes that exist in the bullpen, starting lineup and on the bench, the Sox now need to focus on finding a new General Manager.
Boston is a tough town to play in. Part of the General Manager’s job is to woo potential players to the table. Just look at what it took for Theo to get Schilling. The man spent a holiday in Arizona for Christ Sake! We need someone in there, and fast, that can help the front office make players feel that while the media may tear them apart, and while they may lose all privacy they ever hoped to have if they play for Boston, the organization is worth playing for and will protect them as much as possible.
But to do that, we need to find someone who is willing to work under LL, which could be interesting. I know there is a lot of debate going on out there about the reasons that Theo left. But when you can’t hold onto a guy who grew up loving the team, who was groomed for this, his DREAM job, isn’t it going to be harder to convince potential replacements that this is the kind of working environment is the kind they’d love to be in?
So yeah, I’m worried. This was the one signing this off season I wasn’t worried about. The ONE I thought we had in the bag. And now here we sit. Stunned. So yes, I’d rather focus on the good moments. Sue me.Labels: baseball, Boston |
| posted by FINY @ Tuesday, November 01, 2005 |
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| Monday, October 31, 2005 |
| There Are No Words - At Least Not Yet |
When Pedro left, I knew why. When Nomar left, I knew it was time. But this? I can't handle it. Not yet. I feel pathetic for being so upset, but I am. I have a LOT of thoughts, but am in no way ready to get them down yet.
We'll miss you Theo. Thanks.Labels: baseball, Boston |
| posted by FINY @ Monday, October 31, 2005 |
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| Saturday, October 29, 2005 |
| Yet Another Reason I Hate Sports Writers |
Seriously, I could probably post all day about the ridiculous stuff that is printed in various sports sections around the country, but I'd just like to point this one out because of the following:
Graffanino, acquired midway through the 2005 season from Kansas City, was an upgrade at second base for the Red Sox, but had a damaging error during Boston's playoff series loss to Chicago.
I don't even really need to write a rebuttal since I already did here , but holy lord the man worked his ass off from the minute he got to the team, he hit a double after that error, and do you really think we would have fared as well with Bellhorn at second? (Bellhorn, my love, I'm sorry but you know it's true!).
Anyway, just needed to vent/share/procrastinate from cleaning my room.Labels: baseball, Red Sox |
| posted by FINY @ Saturday, October 29, 2005 |
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| Another Sox Championship |
Whenever I read the paper I start with the Sports section. I don’t know what this says about me but I do. So today when the New York Times was delivered to my apartment and my roommate (who’s name is on the subscription because she, well, PAYS for it) dove into the front page I made a grab for section D “Sports Saturday”.
There, in the upper left-hand corner was a picture of the White Sox victory parade. I smiled to myself remembering the delirium that was my 2004 experience and felt a rush of warmth toward all White Sox fans. “I know how you feel,” I thought.
The feeling continued as I began to read the column the picture accompanied (not linked to because you need to pay to read it online). The title of the piece was “Windy? Sure. Second? Not Anymore.” By William C. Rhoden. And it started out like this:
The operative word in Chicago these days is stunned. I’m speaking for myself, but I am also speaking for fellow South Siders and fans who are stunned that the Chicago White Sox-the Hitless Wonder White Sox of 1906, the Go-Go Sox of 1959 – won the World Series.
Ah how I, and inevitable all of Red Sox Nation, remember the feeling. It took months for it to really sink in with me. And every time I was reminded, whether when it was when I had my picture taken with the World Series trophy or wore the World Series ring (which happened on multiple occasions thanks to friendly Fenway staff members and the Twin’s sister) the immediate thought was “My God it really is true, the Red Sox are the World Champions”.
Now granted, we can’t say that anymore. Sure the words “The Sox are the World Champions” is still applicable, but it’s now a sock of a different color (come on I couldn’t pass that one up). So as I continued reading Mr. Rhoden’s column I was reminded of all of those moments and had a nice warm fuzzy feeling going on for the fans of Chicago. And then I read the following about a quarter of the way into the column:
The boys and girls don’t yet understand the scope of what they witnessed, though they mat as the decades inevitably pass without a repeat World Series performance.
Excuse me, what? I’m not even a White Sox fan and that line pissed me off. Why is this columnist already dismissing next season? For a moment I thought I had misread the beginning of the column and that this guy wasn’t actually a Sox fan. Nope, reread it again, and continued reading the column and he definitely identified himself as a South Side Sox fan.
What aggravated me the most about this is the defeatist attitude that Mr. Rhoden is now projecting onto all Chicago fans. I know that 99.9% of their fans out there are not in line with Mr. Rhoden’s thinking, but as a writer, representing the Chicago fan base in a major newspaper, shouldn’t he be portraying himself, and therefore the rest of the Sox fanbase, in the best light possible?
I’m overreacting and I know it, but one of the comments that I got as a RED Sox fan living in New York right after they won was “Oh, well now you can wait another 86 years”. Which of course prompted my response of “Fuck off, my team just won the World Series and I’m going to enjoy it damnit.”
And I hope White Sox fans are doing just that. Not listening to asshats like Mr. Rhoden. Not thinking about next year (unless it’s to think about unveiling that flag at US Cellular) and basking in the glow of a World Series they were never sure they were going to see. Party it up Sox fans. You deserve it.Labels: baseball |
| posted by FINY @ Saturday, October 29, 2005 |
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| Friday, October 21, 2005 |
| Random Baseball Notes |
Well it’s decided, the 2005 World Series will be played by the Houston Astros and the Chicago White Sox. I told you below why I will be rooting for the White Sox, but last night’s game, even though they lost, has a lot of significance for the St. Louis Cardinals.
Last night’s game (Ok, so I’ve written this post over a period of days …) was the last game to ever be played at Busch Stadium. I’ll admit I’ve never been there, but  I am sure there are members of the Red Bird Faithful out there who will mourn the loss. In a way, I feel like some Sox fans will too. The Red Sox won the 2004 World Series on that field. All those images that were seared into our brains: Tek catching Foulke, Tek on his knees on the infield grass while being hugged by Millar, Dave Roberts hoisting the World Series trophy while sitting atop Mike Timlin’s shoulders. All those images came courtesy of Busch. (Sorry to bring it all up again Cards fans, I am sure this day is rough enough for you already. I feel you, you’ll notice I’ve written very little about baseball since the Sox got bounced). The view of those illuminated arches that lined the top of the stadium will always be a part of our memories of one of the greatest moments of my sports fandom to date.
So thanks for the memories, Busch.
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Tracking Bellhorn Part II:
Yeah yeah I know. I feel off the “I swear I am going to make this a regular feature”. But I just couldn’t bare to watch/read about/think about Bellhorn in pinstripes. And now, I don’t have to!
The Yankees put out a press release on Tuesday indicating that Bellhorn had rejected an offer from the Yankees that would have given his contract to their Triple A Team Columbus. Opting for Free Agency, Bellhorn is now testing the waters. I really hope he has a bang-up year next year, this one was tough on him. I’d love to see him starting somewhere, and I think he could do it with a smaller market team. Boston and New York just have too many resources to need a guy like him, unfortunately.
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Don’t Let The Door Hit You In The Ass!
Everyone who did a little jig when they found out that Dale Sveum was going to the Brewers raise your hand!
Sveum probably got a bit of a bad rap in Boston. I mean in 90% of other MLB cities fans wouldn’t even know the NAME of their third base coach, never mind be able to analyze his abilities. I respect his decision to move on from Boston, to be able to spend an extra six weeks with his kids (the Brewers train in Arizona which is where the Sveum’s live) and I wish him all the best of luck.
That said, I’m glad I’ll no longer need to worry about our players injuring themselves on a play at the plate that never should have happened due to Sveums trigger happy wave. So bring on the new guy! Let’s see how quickly it takes WEEI, BDD, and the rabid fanbase to scare him out of town.
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O! Leo!
It may not be “official” yet, but will most likely be announced today that Leo Mazzone will be leaving his post as pitching coach for the Atlanta Braves to sign a three year deal with the Baltimore Orioles.
I’m feeling a bit sad about this for a few reasons. Left over from my days of Atlanta Braves fandom (for those of you who haven’t been reading my blog long, there’s a story to that I swear) is a special place in my heart for the 90’s Braves and their staff. Bobby Cox is arguably one of the best managers in baseball.
Yes, I know I know, they’re the Buffalo Bills of the MLB, always winning Division titles and never doing a damn thing with them, but really, every year they seem to be headed for a “rebuilding” year and somehow they dominate. Mazzone has got to be able to take some credit for that. It makes me a bit nostalgic now that not only is the core of the team that I used to follow so closely gone, but the coaching staff is being broken up as well.
ANOTHER reason why this upsets me a little is that the Orioles are in the AL East. Now, I know Mazzone’s no miracle worker but he’s damn good at what he does. So yeah not totally psyched that the guy’s going to one of our division competitors.
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Later, a look at what’s up with Manny and Wells wanting to leave Boston. This is going to be a long and interesting off-season and the World Series isn’t even over yet.Labels: baseball |
| posted by FINY @ Friday, October 21, 2005 |
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| Wednesday, October 19, 2005 |
| On Why I’m Rooting for the White Sox |
Everyone knows the “Black Sox” story. It was the 1919 World Series. The Chicago White Sox against the Cincinnati Reds. The White Sox heavily favored to win the series after ending the season in first place, lost in 8 games.
It eventually came out that eight players on the Sox; “Shoeless” Joe Jackson, Chick Gandil, Ed Cicotte, Swede Risberg, Fred McMullin, Lefty Williams, Happy Felsch, and Buck Weaver, had thrown the series. They had been paid by a prominent gambler in order to fix the odds. They haven’t won a World Series since.
Now, as a Red Sox fan, I don’t believe in curses. Never have. I believe in bad management. Injury plagued seasons. Inept owners. But Billy goats, trades, and gambling are NOT reasons that teams lose.
Was what happened in 1919 a black mark on baseball? Clearly. Just as steroids mar the game today these players (and I am not going to get into the Joe Jackson argument as that’s a WHOLE other post) took what is supposed to be a pure and simple game and dirtied it’s image. Since that time the team has carried their history around on their shoulders. It’s time to shake it free. The White Sox owners, manager, coaches, and players have nothing to do with what happened all those decades ago.
There are many reasons I feel sympathy for the White Sox, the least of which being that I know how their fans feel wondering if they’ll ever see their team win it all while they’re alive. But then there’s also the gritty nature of their team that I enjoy. And for as much as I think Ozzy Gullien is an ass, at least he’s real. He says the type of shit most of us fans think all the time. Then there’s the fact that they share their market with the Cubs. The White Sox have a very devoted following, but the Cubs are one of those “America’s Darlings” teams.
But one of the main reasons I am rooting for the Pale Hose – they beat my team to get where they are. I know this is going to anger some Red Sox fans, and I’m ok with that, but here’s my reasoning: If your team is knocked out of the post-season, don’t you at least want it to be by a team that does something with it? I mean if the White Sox had lost the ALCS wouldn’t you have thought, Well, Jesus the Sawx coulda done that!
So there are a lot of reasons I’m behind the White Sox at the moment. Then again I may have to rethink my stance if it’s the Cardinals in the series with them. If there’s one thing I learned from last year’s Series it’s that they have some AMAZING fans out there, some of whom I’ve gotten to know through the blog world, and who I’d like to see as happy as we were last year.Labels: baseball |
| posted by FINY @ Wednesday, October 19, 2005 |
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| Thursday, October 06, 2005 |
| The One Where I Don't Blame Tony Graffanino |
I haven't looked at the Boston papers yet. Nor have I looked at the NY media. Or the Sox blogosphere. I've seen nothing because I'm afraid to see two words: Bill Buckner.
In the instant that the routine ground ball skirted through Tony Graffanino's legs in the bottom of the fifth last night, those dreaded words were heard all over the bar. But just as Buckner can't be blamed for losing that series (remember there was still one more game left) Graff can't be blamed if the Sox lose this series. Nor can he be blamed even for last night's loss.
The Sox had numerous occaisions to win that game last night. And you can point to most anyone on the team as contributing to the loss. Wells gave up the homer than put the White Sox ahead, Renteria grounding out to end the game even as he represented the tying run. No, this wasn't Graffanino's fault, it was the Red Sox fault.
So here's to a day off, hopefully the Sox can gather themselves enough in this travel day to come back and win on Friday at Fenway. We've had our backs against the wall before. I still have faith.Labels: baseball, Boston |
| posted by FINY @ Thursday, October 06, 2005 |
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| Tuesday, October 04, 2005 |
| The Sox, The Twin, and Z's Departure |
Worst.Blogger. Ever.
Yeah, that’s me. I’ve been seriously slacking on the blogging duties. So just to get it out of the way, here’s a general: everything that’s going on in my head, update. I’ll get back to writing daily tomorrow. Promise.
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The Red Sox:
 Well, I spent Friday, Saturday, and Sunday completely glued to the television. Friday was, of course, wonderful. Saturday sucked, Sunday, while it was fun to see the Sox beat up on the Yankees, was essentially meaningless. All it really gave us was the calming idea that while we lost the AL East, we technically tied them, both ending the season with the exact same record.
But then again, I kind of like being the Wild Card team. I’d much rather be playing the White Sox, in Chicago, than watch the team trek to California to get beat up on by the Angels. I have my concerns. Our pitching staff being the biggest, but I think the Sox can pull this off. I really do. It may be blind optimism talking but 11 is now the magic number. And I will most definitely be watching every pitch.
It’s sucking to be a Sox fan in the city at the moment though. While we have our safe havens around the city (Phebe’s, 212, the Riv, the Hairy Monk, the list keeps going) this is the time of year when every obnoxious Yankee fan just becomes completely unbearable. I actually got into a screaming fight on Saturday with three Yankee “fans” who were going on and on about the AL East championship. Now, this was probably fueled by more than a few drinks on both my part and his, but I had finally had enough. Usually I just keep walking. The kind of people who will yell at you on the street are not the kind of people you can have an intelligent baseball conversation with. But after a few too many beers I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I spun around on my heel and launched into it.
“If the AL East is so important and you’ve won 8 of these in a row now, why is it that the last 3 you’ve won have gotten you absolutely nothing? When was the last time you won? Five years ago. Ok, just checking. It’s absolutely amazing to me that you people are still so arrogant after last year. Not only have you not won a World Series recently, you actually made history with how much you sucked in the ALCS last year. But oh yeah, I’m DEVESTATED that we didn’t take the AL East. Cause if we win the Wild Card, God what are we going to do? WC teams don’t win World Series …. Oh wait …”
Now throughout all this they’re just screaming right back at me. Since I was yelling myself I couldn’t always hear what they were saying, but most of it had to do with 26 rings, 86 years, and can you believe: 1918. So finally I stop yelling and walk back to the crowd. It’s three rather overweight women and one guy. I calmly say, ok, I have to ask because you’re SO vehement about your team. Someone name the starting rotation.
The girls looked at me like I was nuts. They couldn’t do it. Now, I had taken a gamble here, because if they had rattled them off I would have looked like a total ass. The guy turns to me and goes “Oh they’re not real Yankee fans”.
“Then tell them to shut the fuck up and stick to arguments they actually know something about.”
And with that I turned and walked away. Was it mature? Absolutely not. Was it the smartest thing to do ever? I mean, I probably could have gotten my ass kicked. But I was wearing a really short skirt and knee high boots and somehow this game me extra confidence. So no, it wasn’t mature and no, it wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea. But you don’t screw with a drunk Red Sox fan who’s just watched her team lose the division. Even if she is in enemy territory.
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The Twin:
 Been a few ups and downs lately. We’ve been spending a TON of time together, I’ve stayed at his apartment a lot more recently (easier than my place since I have two roommates and he lives alone) and I’ve thoroughly moved past the “worrying too much” issues mainly due to the fact that he’s clearly been making such an effort to hang out with me. For example Saturday night, while completely exhausted from a full day of work, he stayed out with me and had a couple drinks so that he could get to say goodbye to Z who was leaving for London (more on that later). It should be noted that he’d only met Z ONCE, but I think he knew how much she means to me, and how upset I was that she was leaving. And it said a lot to me that even being that tired, and knowing he had to get up at the ass crack of dawn the next day that he still came out with us for a few drinks.
It’s little things like that that have made me feel a lot better about things recently. But then Sunday night, after seeing Z off at the airport, as I was sitting outside absolutely sobbing because she was gone I gave the Twin a call. I knew he was with a really important client, and I knew the shoot was going to go really late, but I was hoping I could catch him at a slow time or something. His voicemail picked up, ok, fine, I left a rather teary voicemail.
He didn’t call back until last night.
This bugged me. I was sitting, by myself, outside an airport, bawling. I needed someone to talk to. I can COMPLETELY understand that he was working. What I DON’T understand is why he didn’t call on his walk from the studio he was at to his company’s studio. Or why he didn’t shoot me an email the next day. Something. ANYTHING. When the girl your dating leaves a teary message on your phone, isn’t the immediate reaction to at least make sure she’s alright? And if it’s not, shouldn’t it be?
I, of course, wimped out on saying any of this to him last night. He could tell I was upset and he’s not much of a phone talker, but our conversation lasted almost an hour. At the end of it I looked up at the phone and was like “Oh, shit I didn’t even realize”. I felt a little bad because he hadn’t eaten dinner yet, he had called me when he got home last night (somewhere around 9) and it was then almost ten. His response “Don’t worry you sound like you needed that”. And I did. But what I need more was a little more reassurance that he actually did care that I was upset the night before. And I still don’t feel like I got that.
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Z’s departure:
 That’s Z there on the left. Z and I met through the Welshman back in, what, February-sih, at a concert at the Roxy. It’s amazing how, in the span of nine months someone can become so important to you, but she did.
Z was living in the US on a temporary Visa while she was with a one year internship program. Not finding a job here once the program was over, she was forced to move back to London this week. It’s odd not having her around, already. Sure we can email, sure we can call, but it’s not the same as meeting in the park for lunch, grabbing a beer after work, seeing a show together. I can’t tell her that she’s once again wearing her purse using only one shoulder strap, or have her laugh at the crazy-assed things I do. I can’t make fun of her when she orders a coke and vodka (I mean come on people Coke and VODKA? I literally just shuddered, as I did every time she ordered it).
Seeing her off at the airport was the worst. It didn’t feel real until she was going through security and I bust out into tears. And as she walked down the hallway, turning back to wave God knows how many times (cause there was no way in hell I was leaving until I couldn’t see her anymore) I just cried even more.
As mentioned above, I called the Twin, but after leaving a message gave my mom a call. I can’t imagine how pathetic I looked sitting outside Newark Airport, cross-legged on a pylon, literally bawling. Or how ridiculous I looked doing the same thing on the air train connecting the airport to the train station. Or on NJTransit back into the city.
I know she’ll come visit, and I know we won’t lose touch, but that was a really tough night for me, and I had to do it alone. Usually I pride myself on being ok on my own. This was not one of those nights. All I needed in the world was a hug. Actually to be honest even to this very minute all I need is a hug, and I still haven’t had anyone around to be able to do so.Labels: baseball, Boston, dating, friends |
| posted by FINY @ Tuesday, October 04, 2005 |
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