Ten years after the day after the Red Sox won the World Series

Thursday October 28, 2004. It was sometime around 2 in the morning in a dorm room, in a college town in Upstate New York. My body didn't feel like sleeping and my mind didn't feel like I was in New York. I was wide awake and my heart was in Boston. Hours after the Red Sox had won their first World Series in 86 years, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't stay put, I had to go home. And so did two other Massachusetts expats in my dorm, one from North Reading, the other from Newton. So that night/early morning, we made the 350 mile drive home.

I could wax poetically about the sun rising on a new kind of Massachusetts that day, but I'll skip all that. We had finally won the World Series, and it was a completely new kind of feeling as a sports fan.

In retrospect, we Red Sox fans had spent years torturing ourselves, in a Calvinistic hope (give credit to Dan Shauhgnessy for the comparison between Sox fans, and the predestination believing religious folks who colonized Massachusetts centuries earlier) that with each painful experience, we would somehow be rewarded with greater amounts of joy if, AND ONLY IF, our team ever won. The more pain we went through on Earth, the greater joy Heaven would bring. That was the hope.

I'll come back to that torture/reward thing later. Returning to October 28, 2004...

I got home just as the morning commute was peaking. The Sox were the only story on the local news. The plane carrying the newly minted Champions landed at Logan. There were videos of grown men in business suits with briefcases, running alongside the team bus on its way to Fenway, jumping up and down for joy. There was a massive parade and I took the first Red Line train into Boston to get a good spot for it.

That unadulterated release of joy was something that had been building inside of us fans for years, even decades. And with each heartbreak, with each close call, with each Bucky Dent and Aaron Boone, the frustration built up. As the frustration and need for release increased, so did the feeling of gratification and joy that would be felt if we ever attained that release. In other words, we Sox fans had a terrible case of Blue Balls.

2004 was the epic release of that frustration, and also that joy. No sports moment will ever feel like that again.

That's why we no longer live and die with each pitch. That's why Red Sox fans went from religious zealots, to the people who only go to Church at Christmas and Easter.

John Henry, Larry Lucchino, and the Fenway Sports Group didn't help. Continuing the religious metaphor, imagine being the Pope the year after Jesus Christ came back to Earth. How would you get people fired up about anything?

You'd probably renovate the Vatican, and hire a bunch of high-priced Bishops and Cardinals (Renteria, Drew) to get people's attention.

I'll give Fenway Sports Group all the credit in the world for breaking The Curse. I'll also criticize them for not understanding what Sox fans were feeling, and still now not understanding how regular fans feel about this team. We couldn't have the same cultish devotion to the Sox after all our prayers had been answered. Henry and FSG didn't get that.

They didn't get a lot of things.

The same owners who hired The Epstein also chased him out of town. Twice. The same owners who hired Terry Francona also hired Bobby Valentine. The same owners who renovated Fenway Park also lied about sellouts and we still can't figure out why. Every 2 years they seem to acknowledge their mistakes and change their philosophy, and yet somehow they maintain a smug arrogance as though everything they do is right.

And perhaps most vexing of all, they kept Jerry Remy but dumped Jenny Dell. Giggly analyst who enabled his woman-beating son vs. attractive sideline fluff reporter who still had more interesting things to say than Remy.

Seriously? NESN and the Red Sox decided to take her off the TV screen. Good call, guys.

Everything changed after the Red Sox won the World Series. Red Sox fans changed. We went from anxiously anticipating an overdue release, to being normal fans of a normal big-market baseball team. Ownership didn't want our fandom to change, though. They wanted the same rapt attention, the same hopeful highs and desperate lows. It's like we fans were bipolar before the Sox cured us by winning the World Series. Yet the owners still wanted to prescribe us Prozac and Paxil.

We didn't want that after 2004. We just wanted a baseball team. And that's all I want now. We don't need to have owners and GMs who spend on JD Drew but skimp on Jon Lester. We don't need lavish ceremonies where lions are released and someone pulls the string on Kevin Millar's back so he says something country.

We just want a baseball team. Please.

Photo Credit:
Jim Davis/Boston Globe

Bruins Stanley Cup Drinking Game: Red Wings Series - Game 1

It's Friday night and the Boston Bruins are finally playing the Detroit Red Wings. It's been 57 years since these teams have met in the postseason and it feels like half that has been the time between the end of the regular season and tonight's game. I've developed a serious case of Bru balls waiting for this series to start and tonight's finally the night. Here's a drinking game to play while enjoying Game 1 of the series...

Anytime Jack Edwards says...
"Against the eddy of the flow" = take 1 drink of beer
"A-frames" = 1 drink
"Bee in his bonnet" = 1 drink
"Blows a tire" = 1 drink
"Loses an edge" = 1 drink
"Up ice" = 1 drink
"Wing to wing" = 1 drink
"D to D" = 1 drink
"Johnny rocket" = 1 drink
"Juicy rebound" = 1 drink
"Save by Rask" = 1 drink

Anytime this is on screen...
Someone holding a replica Stanley Cup
Dennis Seidenberg skating in practice = 1 drink
Dennis Seidenberg sitting on the 9th floor = 1 drink
Henrik Zetterberg = 1 drink
Jack Edwards jumping up and down = 1 drink
An octopus = drink for 8 seconds
Black and white photos of Bruins/Red Wings history = 1 drink per photo
Mike Babcock = 1 drink
Angry Claude Julien = 1 drink

Anytime this happens...
Brad Marchand pisses someone off = 1 drink
Patrice Bergeron wins a faceoff = 1 drink
The crowd goes "Tuuuuuuuk" or "Kruuuuuug" = 1 drink
Andrej Meszaros screws something up = 1 drink
Zdeno Chara's height/reach is mentioned = 1 drink
A Swedish player scores = 1 shot of Absolut
Jack Edwards praises Pavel Datsyuk = 1 drink
Edwards yells = 1 drink
Edwards cackles maniacally = 1 drink
Edwards alludes to something pre-1950 = 1 drink
Edwards complains about officiating = 1 drink
Edwards reminds you of Tommy Heinsohn = 1 drink + 1 Tommy Point
A fight (unlikely) = finish your beer and take a shot

NESN Is Foolish to Break Up the Naoko-Edwards-Brickley Line

NESN has decided not to renew the contract of Bruins "sideline" reporter Naoko Funayama, so as of this summer she will no longer be working for the regional sports network.

You fools!

She was great. She did her job well. Her reports were concise and to the point. She wasn't distracting. She didn't steer the broadcast away from the game. She played her part in the well-balanced line of Funayama-Edwards-Brickley. Edwards brought the colorful character, Brickley brought the expert analysis, and Funayama brought the ground-level reporting.

Funayama did what fewer and fewer sideline reporters do: REPORT. She had a good rapport with the players, and she was respected by everyone (as evidence by the stream of Tweets about her losing her job). Who else would inspire both media colleagues and Bruins players to mourn her departure?

Naoko is pro at rink and better person. Type to keep, not let go. Genius move, NESN.
— Fluto Shinzawa (@GlobeFluto) June 28, 2013

@NaokoFunayama naoko .....:(
— Tyler Seguin (@tylerseguin92) June 28, 2013

The word "Naoko" is trending on my Twitter at the moment. For a sideline reporter. On this week of all weeks in Boston sports.

I don't know why NESN did this. It certainly can't be for failing to do her job. They must have a replacement in mind.

Maybe she'll be replaced by some bleached blonde bimbo with hair extensions who spends less time reporting in the dressing room than she does undressing players with her eyes.

Maybe she'll be replaced by some Bill Simmons type, who doesn't try to get a good answer, but rather tries to ask a question that becomes a story in and of itself.

Maybe NESN wants Bruins broadcasts to be like Red Sox broadcasts, and have a sideline reporter that moderates social media discussions, and relentlessly promotes the non-sports aspects of the on-air product.

Or maybe she'll be replaced by Leah Hextall, who is a fine reporter, and Ron Hextall's niece, but I just don't see the need to replace Naoko at all.

Unfortunately, working hard, being respected by peers and interviewees alike, and taking your job seriously are no longer the hallmarks of sports journalism. This is the era of the loud, bombastic, speculative sports journalist. This is the era when eye candy is more important than substance. This is the era when a TV channel would rather employ a reporter who asks questions that piss off the interviewee, as opposed to a reporter who gets their questions answered.

Kate Upton Should Do Play-by-Play for the Bruins (So We Can Watch Her Jump Up and Down)*

Bruins play-by-play announcer Jack Edwards has received some criticism for jumping up and down when the Bruins tied the Rangers Tuesday night. And I think that's a bit unfair. He was excited. And if I were at the game, I'd be jumping up and down too. What made Edwards look silly were the circumstances surrounding his jumping:

1. Men wearing suits look silly when they jump up and down.

2. Men wearing suits look extra silly jumping up and down when standing next to a man in a suit who isn't jumping.

3. Skinny old men with glasses look ridiculously uber-silly when jumping up and down standing next to a man in a suit who isn't jumping.

People like to criticize Jack Edwards, and use the word "caricature" to do it. And while Edwards's shtick goes well beyond normal broadcasting homerism, I think the people critiquing him should remember that he is an entertainer. He's not covering a Presidential Debate or doing play-by-play of a high speed chase. It's a hockey game. Edwards is the equivalent of a goofy weatherman. He tries to add a bit of fun. And if you're not entertained, that's your opinion. But don't get on a high horse about "broadcasting professionalism" or anything like that. He's not trying to be Dan Rather or Walter Cronkite. He's calling a hockey game.

And when you look back at the all-time most memorable sports broadcasters, who stands out? The subdued, dignified, by-the-book professionalists? Or the nutjobs? Who would you rather listen to, Joe Buck or Harry Carey? Do you want to go back in time and get Yogi Berra fired for being a caricature? Or go even further back and tell Red Barber to stop using southern catchphrases like "walking in the tall cotton" or "can of corn?"

Edwards gets carried away. Which is what being a fan is all about. His routine isn't for everyone, just like any entertainer's. But he does his research, he knows the game, knows the players, and to me seems just as professional as any other broadcaster I've heard.

I would still prefer Kate Upton bouncing up and down instead of him.

Red Sox Mouthpieces Try to Dismiss Meeting

I was listening to WEEI's broadcast of the game last night. Dave O'Brien and Joe Castiglione couldn't figure out why the July 26th meeting of players and Ownership was a big story. The two repeated the "nothing to see here" statements John Henry and Dustin Pedroia gave about the meeting: that such meetings are held throughout the season, and that nobody was lobbying for Valentine to be fired. O'Brien then remarked that "several facts" from Jeff Passan's article were "in dispute."

I switched to NESN. The Red Sox own most of NESN, by the way. Don Orsillo and Jerry Remy expressed a similarly dismissive attitudes toward the story. "I'm past it" Remy remarked. Neither felt that the story was noteworthy. And both agreed that the Red Sox' problems are all on the field, and that the buzz around this meeting was just noise about nothing.

These are the voices of the Red Sox Propaganda Machine. These are the dupes, the suckers, the inner circle of Boston Sports Media that is under the influence of John Henry and Larry Lucchino. These are the yes-men, the suck-ups, the naive, the blind, the fools.

Listening to them, I was reminded of Iraqi Information Minister Mohammed Said al-Sahhaf, a.k.a. Baghdad Bob.

Team meetings do happen. And these kinds of meetings between Ownership and players don't seem to be a new thing for the Sox. But here is why this most recent meeting is a significant story:

1. What caused the meeting to be held
A text message from Adrian Gonzalez complaining about Bobby Valentine leaving Jon Lester in a game too long. That's apparently what provoked this meeting. Why are players texting Owners about gameday decisions at all? And why are Owners responding to them by giving them a forum to bitch and moan?

I wonder what that text looked like:

"OMFG we h8 BobbyV. He left J-les in the game 2 long. He needz 2 go. Yolo."

2. The divisive nature of the meetings
The Owners met with players, then met with coaches, then met with Valentine. All separate meetings. Why? Player-only meetings are commonplace, but don't typically involve Owners. And why isolate Valentine so much that even his assistant coaches have a different meeting?

How does dividing the team foster unity? And how does letting players go over their manager (and General Manager, let's not forget that the relative lack of Cherington in this story is interesting in and of itself), support the leadership hierarchy of the organization? The players ignored the chain-of-command, went over Valentine's head, to the side of Cherington's, and right into Larry Lucchino's text message inbox.

3. The leaks about the meeting
If this truly were a normal meeting, then why did Passan get leaked information about it? Why did he get multiple sources telling him about problems in the clubhouse and a tense meeting in which players ripped Bobby Valentine?

Maybe Passan was given faulty information. But that'd be a story too. If players and coaches are feeding lies to the media, then that implies the same thing that the original story about the meeting implies:

That something stinks with this team.

That's the story here. Something is rotten and it's stinks to high heaven.