boston-red-sox
The Beginning
The alarm rang, 8:30 a.m. After a shower, banana and water, shoes on, it was 9:15.
I saw my neighbor on the way out, nodded, climbed into my car and fought my eyes as the hills of Marin unraveled.
Phone calls, typing and coffee, and it was back in the car.
By Ryan McGowan
I almost did it. I almost bought a Yankee hat.
I was driving from Boston to North Attleboro on Sunday for my dad’s birthday and stopped at the Walpole Mall, knowing full well that the closer I got to Foxboro, the more chance I had of accidentally driving into a state trooper setting out orange cones for traffic control, which would not be a good thing. I wanted to get my dad a book at Barnes and Noble. Hey, I`ve only bought him about 20 books over the years, approximately 5% of which he’s actually read. Still, I figure I can get away with buying him books because at least I can read them when I come visit.
Who is Pedro Martinez’s daddy? Aside from who will be the next president, that was the question on the tip of everybody’s tongue last week after the Boston ace muttered to reporters, “What can I say? I tip my cap and call the Yankees my daddy.”
I know, I know. You’ve heard it a thousand times before. Those obnoxious Red Sox fans never learn, do they? No, we don’t. But seriously though. This is the year. I mean it.
A roller coaster ride–summary of Terry Francona’s first season with the Red Sox. Loaded with exciting spins, flips, corkscrews, and turned stomachs, the Sox have learned to weather the storm, and now are in prime position to overtake the Yankees in the AL East. It has been a long, stressful journey for Francona, but the fruits of his labor may be finally paying off, as his Red Sox sit only 2 ½ games behind first place for the first time in a very long time this year.
So lighten up Bostonians, give your man a break, he deserves it. I’m sure Francona won’t be trohwing away any Game 7 leads any time soon.
Is the latest run by the Red Sox another setup? I watch night after night almost expecting doom. Solid pitching, timely hitting, good defense. Pinch me I may be dreaming.
I want to sum up my emotions regarding the Sox since the trading deadline. It has been like watching two different teams, I like the current version much, much better.
By Ryan McGowan
I ran into Dan Shaughnessy, sports columnist for the Boston Globe, a few weeks ago while I was waiting for an order at a Chinese restaurant in Newton. “Shank” is somewhat of a personal hero of mine, not as much for his writing ability (though I do think he is a good writer, even if many disagree with what he has to say) but more so for his status as a fellow Holy Cross graduate/ex-writer for the HC Crusader student newspaper. As there were only four people in the restaurant at the time (myself, Jennifer the Lovely Better Half, and two restaurant employees), you can imagine my startled expression when I was interrupted from reading a crusty 2001 back issue of Newsweek and listening to Muzak versions of “Sweet Home Alabama” by the grand entrance of a tall, lanky, curly-haired man, surrounded by his family, whose face I have seen countless times on TV and headlining the Globe columns bearing his name.
By Ryan McGowan
It’s Olympic time, so let’s figure out who’s really number one. Americans are a rather competitive lot. Nothing in America can be appreciated for what it is; everything has to be quantified in a list as either better than or worse than something else. This is probably the reason why we get lists such as the "Top 25 Sports Movies," "America’s Most Wanted," and cookie-cutter value meals from McDonald’s. The Olympics would be a great topic for today in debating whether America, as many establishment types would lead you to believe, actually produces the best athletes in the world. But since I find watching most Olympic events about as riveting as a six-cassette set of "NPR’s Greatest Hits", today we’ll tackle a question which has been burning up the airwaves on WEEI today: Which team is REALLY number one in Boston, the Red Sox or the Patriots?
By Ryan McGowan
I’ve been thinking of metaphors over the last few days, searching for an elusive analogy of universal experience so I could begin to understand the complex four-team deal at the trade deadline that sent long-time Red Sox shortstop, five-time All-Star, two-time batting champion, and franchise icon Nomar Garciaparra to the Chicago Cubs, in exchange for Orlando Cabrera, Doug Mientkiewicz, and Dave Roberts.
By Ryan McGowan
As an optimistic fan, I hope that a game like Saturday’s epic renewal of the ancient feud between the Red Sox and the Yankees can be a catalyst for the sudden phoenix-like revival of an otherwise frustrating 2004 season for the Boston Nine.
As a human being, I was happy to finally see the Olde Towne Team whup some ass.