What The Red Sox Need to Do to Win Me Back
I have to admit, now that real baseball is back and their firing live rounds once again, I’m starting to feel like I’m open to caring about the Red Sox again. It’s been an abusive relationship the last year and a half. And maybe I’m just going back to my old, unhealthy, co-dependent ways. But then again, I keep hearing they’ve changed. We have a long history together and I think it is possible. Besides it’s Spring and there’ll be a long Summer and I don’t want to spend it alone like I did last year. So I’m willing to be open to taking them back. But not without conditions. I’m not asking for the World Series, that would be unfair. I’m really not even asking for the playoffs, although that would be nice. Here are my conditions in order for me to go back to the way things were before:
Want it More Than I Do. My whole life I’ve been swimming against the tide cranky old bastards who grew up ripping on Ted Williams or Yaz or whomever and any time you talk baseball say “Ah, the Red Sox are all a bunch of rich fat cats. They don’t care if they win or lose. They get paid either way.” Well starting in September 2011 and through Chicken & BeerGate and all through last year, the Sox did the one thing I can never forgive them for: They turned me into that guy. It didn’t help either when they came to camp and no one with the exception of Pedroia took any accountability for 69-73 last year. Jon Lester (9-14) said he did his job and talked about how many quality starts he had. David Ortiz blamed everything on Bobby Valentine. And so on. Well I want to know they care. Not think. Not assume. KNOW. I want it to be obvious not only that they want to win, but that they want it more than me. I’ve always said baseball is a long season and you can’t have guys flipping out and throwing helmets. You can’t have some nutjob manager flipping the buffet table over. That a team needs to stay on an even keel the way Terry Francona always kept them. Well this year, fuck that. I demand some good old fashion insane intensity out of everyone in a Boston uniform. Drilling guys with pitches. Bench clearing brawls. Arguments with umpires. The dugout littered with thrown bats. I want them to prove this isn’t my grandfather’s Red Sox. Or ours from last year either.
Stay Healthy. This might sound like a weird one. But you can’t convince me that every injury is the result of tough luck. A lot of it has a lot more to do with making the effort to stay in shape and play through the nagging stuff. I’m not asking a lot, I’d just like to be able to identify everyone in the starting lineup on a given day, unlike last year when they had like 27 different outfielders, as anonymous and interchangeable as Clone Troopers. I’d like to have a ticket for a game 7 days away and have a reasonable expectation I know who the starting pitcher will be instead of there being a 50/50 shot it’ll be some emergency call up. I mean, what good is keeping guys on 100 pitch counts if they’re missing every other start with tight lats anyway? Durability is a talent. Have it.
Work Fast. John Farrell said he’s going to make his pitchers work faster. Of course Bobby V said the same thing then folded like a beach chair as soon as Beckett told him he’ll work as slow as it goddamn suits him. But Sox games in general, and Sox-Yankees in particular, have become virtually unwatchable. If circling the mound and doing 7-Minute Abs between every pitch helped you win, it’d be one thing. But the Hall of Fame is full of guys who got the ball back and got themselves frigging set to throw.
Have a Great Shortstop. Not a good one. Not a serviceable one. A great one. Ever since Nomar they gone through shortstops like Spinal Tap went through drummers. And on the few times they’ve had a really good one, they let him walk and replaced him with some forgettable Julio Lugo type. My hope his Jose Iglesias is the guy, but they’ve got a hangup about needing a shortstop who can hit, so he’s probably a short-timer too. Frankly I don’t know a man among us who didn’t love Alex Gonzalez, the best fielder at that spot they’ve ever had. Every single game he took away a hit with a play that made you soil yourself. But he didn’t hit to their liking so instead we get guys like Marco Scutaro, who not only never made a memorable play, I can’t even picture him in a Sox uniform. Let Iglesias play, regardless of what he hits.
Have the Boston Media Level With Us. My whole life the press made their living carpet-bombing the Red Sox, stirring the pot, telling us how bad they are and trying to create controversy where none existed. I’m not saying that was a good thing or that I enjoyed listening to that crap, but it’s what made guys like Shank household names across the country. But now it’s become BizarroWorld. While the team’s been the laughingstocks of baseball, the Boston media has acted like they’re on Larry Lucchino’s PR department payroll. Which I guess they are. They’re either so kowtowed by the idea they’ll lose access or convinced if they play ball they might be able to swing a book deal and NESN appearances – or both – I don’t know. But every major negative story about the club the last few years has been broken by some out-of-town writer while these guys are feeding us injury reports and telling us what tonight’s batting order is. The other day I saw a Peter Gammons interview with John Lackey where the main point of questioning was what a great teammate Lackey is and how his teammates all say what a great teammate he is and did he travel with his teammates last year because he’s a great teammate? Not a word about how he’s the world’s only $17 million No. 5 starter or how the last time he pitched he had the worst season in MLB history. The reporters don’t need to throw bombs; just quit pissing on us and telling us it’s raining.
Don’t Be Dinks. They shipped of a lot of the bad apples off to LA. But I’m not sure that the bad attitude that had Josh Beckett playing 36 holes after skipping a start or Adrian Gonzalez whining to the owners was hasn’t lingered. I mean, they had coaches- grownass men- who didn’t talk to each other all year and unless I miss my guess, some of them are still around. I still haven’t forgotten Big Papi bursting into Tito’s postgame raving about the official scorer costing him an RBI. (Try to picture for one second Vince Wilfork doing that in the middle of a Belichick presser over losing 1/2 a sack. It’s unthinkable.) Win or lose, I just want this team to be likeable, not the insufferable collection of self-serving, bellyaching jagoffs they’ve been. Three words: Johnny Pesky’s funeral.
Finally, if they really did take $2 off of beers without that stupid bait & switch with the smaller beers, that’d help. Also, I want our relationship built on trust, so just admit the sellout streak is a lie. If they do these things, I think we have a chance. @JerryThornton1