Here’s the deal: I don’t actually have a real reason to dislike Boston. I honestly don’t. But the dislike is there anyway, and try as I might to ignore it, it is presently filling my nostrils with its unpleasantly… bean-y scent.
There’s just something in me that bristles at playing this team. Maybe it’s the fans and their inability to pronounce the letter “r.” Maybe it’s the team’s history that gets on my nerves– sort of like a 16-year-old boy failing miserably to relate to a great-grandfather who spouts condescending stories about how when he was a lad, he walked barefoot through 40-foot snow drifts to get to his one-room schoolhouse where he ate lunch from a tin pail and wrote on a slate, and spent his free time splitting logs, not “tweetering on this newfangled internet.”
Maybe it’s the fact that a Red Sox player sneezing during batting practice probably has a better chance of making SportsCenter’s highlights than a Marlins player pitching a no-no or hitting for the cycle.
Or maybe it’s simply the fact that nobody ever told anyone in Boston that the plural of “sock” is actually spelled s-o-c-k-s. I don’t know. I really don’t. But there it is.
And so it is with a giant chip on our shoulder– the roots of which cannot be identified– that HLD&S looks ahead to these three games in Boston.
What I would LOVE to see at Fenway PaRk tonight would be something similar to what I experienced the last time the I saw the Red Sox in South Florida: A flood of 25,000 or so Marlins fans decked out in teal and black converging on the park, buying up the best (and second-best and third-best) seats in the house and banishing the Fenway Faithful to the nosebleeds where only a high-powered telescope will provide them with a half-decent view of the game, which–by the way– includes a hearty pummeling of the home team. (I’m not bitter or anything.)
Since all of the above is probably not going to happen, though, I’ll settle for a win in the series opener. Chris Volstad, a word of advice: Forget everything you have ever heard, thought, or fantasized about Fenway Park. It is merely a field on which men just like you play baseball. Uh, sure, they may get paid more to do it. And maybe a few more people show up to their Tuesday night home games than yours. And maybe they do have the second-best record in baseball while your team sits a game under .500. And maybe… Aw, forget it.
Official HLD&S Position: Two out of three in Boston!