On the nobility of Last Place

The Red Sox are in last place and all is right with the world. Why is this right and proper and not cause for lamentation? Letme count the ways:

  1. Tickets: Now I will starting moving up the waiting list for season tickets a little faster.
  2. Pain builds character: After suffering through the special circles of hell in 1967, 1975, 1978, 1986 and 2003 (I had to completely block the team out of my consciousness from 1986 to 2005: a dark and angry 19-year walk in the wasteland) this season and the last feel right and proper. All is now as it should be.
  3. After the binge comes the purge: Ownership took a $250 million salary dump last month and that feels good. Hell, the salaries of our disabled list is bigger than most team’s entire payroll.
  4. They are  the “Boston” Red Sox: screw the concept of the “Red Sox Nation” — Red Sox country starts in potato country up in Aroostook County, Maine and ends in Waterbury, Connecticut. I don’t need to see a yuppie in a Red Sox hat in Istanbul’s Tahir Square to know the team has global brand recognition. Stick to your own team please. That’s why the league expanded to your city in the first place.
  5. The End of the Pink Ass-Hats: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Do away with the Wave, the pink caps, Wally the Mascot, Sweet Caroline, and stop calling it the “Green Monstah”: it is the “Wall.”
  6. Bring back Tito: okay, he got spanked with a year in Bristol, Connecticut for losing control of the 2011 team, now it’s time to bring back Francona and get things back on track.

Author: David Churbuck

Cape Codder with an itch to write

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