With everything that’s been going on at the start of Red Sox spring training, from David Price’s arrival, to Pablo Sandoval showing up fat again, to the Hanley Ramirez experiment at first base, I almost forgot that this is David Ortiz’s final season.
I don’t know if everyone else feels that way, that the Ortiz storyline hasn’t been talked about very much this spring. Perhaps that’s just my body’s natural defense mechanism, ignoring that reality for as long as possible in order to protect myself from the mental anguish that I will inevitably feel once he finally does retire. Ortiz has been on the Red Sox since I was in eighth grade, man. I’m 26 going on 27 on Opening Day. I mean, think about it. With David Ortiz on the Red Sox, I have experienced my middle school graduation, high school graduation, college graduation, my first time making varsity, my first real girlfriend, my first real breakup, starting my first Red Sox blog, my first beer, my first time throwing up at a high school party, my first time throwing up at a college party, my first job, my first raise, getting my license, my first car, my first time touching a titty, my first social media account, my first playoff game, my first text message, my first everything since I was 13 years old. But this is it. After this year, he’s gone. I really don’t remember what life was like without him on the Red Sox, and I’m not looking forward to finding out.
Because he’s been that one constant on the team throughout my entire adult life, it’s almost like I’m in disbelief that he’s actually retiring. Almost like part of my brain legitimately thought that he could just play for the Red Sox forever, because, to my adult brain, he has played for the Red Sox forever. If the Red Sox don’t cap off Ortiz’s career with a World Series title, I am going to be severely, severely depressed.