Hi, kids! Slammed at the new job and still need a bit to regroup… so, in the meantime, TooSoxy reader Sandra volunteered to give you a guest blog to read and supplement your Thursday! Be back soon- I promise! And I have not read Sox news AT ALL (killing me, but intentional), so you guys BETTER give me some good news… Roy Oswalt… don’t tell me… Cardinals? Don’t tell me…
The following is from Sandra Evans! Contact her at email@example.com! And fill the comments with reasons YOU became a Red Sox fan! Just being from Boston isn’t good enough, people. Give me passion! And, if you’re interested in guesting on TooSoxy, shoot me an e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org!
Why I Became a Boston Red Sox Fan
I love the Boston Red Sox, and I’m not even from Boston. Heck, I’ve never even been to Boston. There are no Major League Baseball teams in the state where I grew up, so you just had to pick one from somewhere else. I chose the Red Sox.
Yes, it is true that I didn’t “jump on the bandwagon” until 2004, when the team won its first World Series since 1918. I wasn’t born into this fan following, so I even surprised myself when I became so obsessed with the culture.
I suppose my love for the team was really ignited because of the fans. I was lucky enough to attend game four of the 2004 World Series in St. Louis. At that point, I was just a fan of baseball and didn’t necessarily follow one particular team. The Red Sox fans were so much fun and extremely excited about the game. You could really get a sense of the passion they had for their team, so I decided to root for them. Not to mention, if they won the game, they would win the Series.
As we all know, they did win that game, and my friend and I followed up the night by going to a bar to celebrate. This is where I met some amazing Red Sox fans who told me why their team was the greatest baseball team in America. Normally, this wouldn’t faze me, but the way in which these fans told the history of their team really convinced me. This team has such an interesting history and tradition, and I wanted to be a part of that history.
I was told about the “Curse of the Bambino.” Which I already knew about, but didn’t realize how serious some fans were about it (the “curse” was broken that night). The fans reminisced about all the missed title chances, throwing out statistics and facts that were impressive. They spoke of the Yankees rivalry with intensity. I had never met people who were so loyal to their team.
In the end, it wasn’t the facts or statistics or history that made me a fan of the Boston Red Sox. I wanted to be a fan of this team, because I wanted to see them win for their lifelong hometown fans. These people love baseball and Boston, and when the Red Sox win, the whole city wins.
There may be other Major League baseball teams who have just as many (if not more) fans as the Boston Red Sox, but I doubt their fans are as passionate. Who wouldn’t want to support a team with fans like that of Boston? GO SOX!
Sandra Evans owns the website Sports Management Degrees. In her leisure time, she enjoys playing tennis and writing.
Not sure when I’m going to have the internet up and running in Raleigh- so I’m going to need you guys to do me a solid and keep me apprised of EVERYTHING going on. You can use the comments for this.
My heart WILL go on. And on. And on. Sigh. My mover looks like A-Gonz. Live Blogging my personal hell…
You get two posts today, chicas! Maybe three. Or FOUR. or FIVE. Who knows? Because I’m trying to focus on something that’s not the cry of pain from an elderly (yes elderly) mover as he heaves a sleeper sofa down a mountain path… and because I can’t listen to Celine Dion anymore. I can’t. DAMN IT, JULIE BRADY!!! In fact, maybe I’ll just LIVE BLOG my moving experience. Maybe I’ll do that. It is 9:11.
9:14. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m beautiful. And intelligent. And my personality sparkles. And anyone (bearded and awesome or otherwise) would be LUCKY to have me. I AM A TREAT, DAMNIT. A TREAT.
That’s right, Celine. My heart WILL go on. Near, far. Near, far, Youkie.
9:16. You know what I love? When Sox editorials irritate someone other than me. Here’s a great example by our friends at Over The Monster– a blog discussing how irritating Jon Heyman is.
Quick tip: anytime a sportswriter tells you that the inner workings of a front office are “obvious” without a quote (even an anonymous one), he is full of it. Actually, Heyman never quotes anyone in the entire article, which should tell you something about how well-sourced and researched his column is. In addition, anyone claiming that the Red Sox are cheaping out in their competition with the Rays, when their payroll is literally three times the Rays’… Just mind-blowing.
Brendan O’Toole, we should be friends.
WHY, YOUK? WHY?!
Here’s a good article on why 2012 might be the year to be fiscally conservative, Sox, but it’s not interesting enough to hide that growl of agony from downstairs (I think my table just gave a mover a hernia. Hernias. YOUKILIS! I’m okay. I’m okay).
Perhaps most distracting of all is a Bleacher Report opinion that A-Gonz will be 2012 MVP. Really? He Who Walks To First? (Best Native American name EVER, right?)
Gonzalez will be the one to hit 15 home runs in September and will carry the team on his back for long stretches when other players can not get their jobs done.
Really? Because I recall lots of homeruns. When they a) Didn’t matter or b) Didn’t matter.
I think I need sleep. Because my mover just looked like Gonzalez. That’s right. Shuffling down the stairs. I DIDN’T PAY YOU PEOPLE TO SHUFFLE (she said inside her head because she feared they would quit and force her to make strong friends).
9:21 a.m. You know. This is the longest I have EVER gone without coffee. Well. Um. In awhile.
9:24 a.m. “Are you aware the shade on this lamp is bent?”
“Yes. I am a reporter. I don’t have nice things.”
9:27. I am terrified of these movers. See, I kind of didn’t tell them about the long windy mountain path. Or the stairs. or the narrow doorway. Or the narrow stairs actually IN the apartment. Or that my sofas were sleepers. PLEASE don’t quit.
This move reminds me a lot of September. Except with less beer.
I mean, Chippy (I named mover four Chippy because he has a chip on his tooth) seems awful cheery…
9:29. Uhoh. Now they’re coming up here. See, when I moved that dresser in… okay… when my ex moved that dresser in, he really had to work hard to get it over the narrow stairs.
Mover 2 coughs. He shall be called Coughy. I like him. He wears hats. You know who else wears hats? Kevin Youkilis. I’m okay. I’m okay.
“I need you to do what you can do. We’ve got tape on the truck,” Coughy says to One.
Nervous. This is so much worse than September. I don’t like it when people touch my things, Soxies. I don’t like it.
Ellie is locked in the bathroom. She’s not having fun either. I can hear her. Saddest puppy in ALL the land.
It is 9:31. There is a strange noise coming from my bathroom. I think Ellie has learned to flush the toilet.
9:32. Jet Blue just unveiled that Red Sox plane. Nifty.
9:35. I can blog, have a panic attack AND work at the same time. Just scored a super high profile interview that I can’t tell you about, but let’s say it’s a great way to say bye-bye western NC…
If my heart can take it. Who knows? I think I’m having palpitations. I bet that’s a lot like a heart hernia.
9:36. I can’t believe you’re actually reading this. See, I have an excuse. I am having a full blown panic attack. Is your cubicle that boring?
I wish I had a cubicle. I would decorate it with my Disney Princess calendar and my Youk posters. Sigh.
9:41. You know who is awesome? Haiku Greg. Haiku Greg is this guy who writes haikus out of baseball news. He wrote me one today.
to find that Youk’s engagement
did not include her.
You guys NEVER write me haikus.
9:44. You know. I was supposed to be at work like 44 minutes ago. Maybe I should… um… send an e-mail.
I keep tiptoeing down the stairs to see what’s happening. I feel like a kid sneaking peeks at Christmas presents. Except instead of giving me things, they are taking them away. Coughy smells like cigarettes and he is touching my bookshelf. I am going to be shocked, honestly shocked if he can get that dresser down THOSE narrow stairs.
I wish I had coffee.
This is kind of as much fun as watching baseball. When he’s not groaning in agony. It’s definitely a team sport. There’s a pitcher. A catcher. A couple random guys. A dog barking in the bathroom…
9:48 If I enjoy 60-somethings men popping spinal discs, does that make me a bad person?
I’ll morally work that out for a moment and get back to you.
I’ve kind of missed live blogging. It’s a lot like radio, really. You feel like you’re talking to a lot of people. But you’re not. You’re soooooo not. Now he’s on the box springs. I heard a huffing noise. Hmmm.
I’m not sure if that was my dog or my mover.
I think this is a little morbid, don’t you?
9:53. This is really the most nerve-wracking thing in the world. Really. I mean, noises. Dog barking. Thuddings. No wonder I’m having a panic attack. I kind of feel like I’m hovering over myself. That was a metal sound. That didn’t sound good.
Would it be tacky for me to just leave and get coffee?
Yes, Lauren. Then they could steal your lamps. Everyone wants to steal your lamps. Everyone.
You know this guy. Coughy. You know him. Where do you know him from, Lauren? Think!
Now he’s figuring out how to get the bookshelf out the door. Isn’t this entertaining? You’re reading it, America. And, if statistics are correct, apparently quite a lot of you. Wow. I appear to be irrationally popular today. It’s the hernia references, isn’t it? YOUKILIS! I’m okay.
10 a.m. Is it really 10 a.m.? Have I really been up for like FIVE hours? Is Kevin Youkilis REALLY engaged to Tom Brady’s sister? Is Pluto REALLY not a planet? It’s okay. You can tell me.
It’s 10:05. I hear arguing outside. I bet they’re having coffee at the office. I bet they’re having coffee at the office right. now.
“My knees is burnin’,” Coughy said.
So are my ears.
I think this feeling is… guilt? Maybe? Is that what this is?
10:17. How long is this supposed to take? I thought you were supposed to be able to just load these guys up and watch ’em go?
I think I broke mover one. 10:21. I mean, He got up. But his forehead doesn’t look so good.
Maybe I recognize Coughy from a mugshot. Excuse me sir, have you ever manufactured a schedule 4?
Or maybe it’s a bar? I got to bars. I got to lots of bars. I KNOW I recognize Curly from a bar. Or something.
But you’re not interested in that.
Stupid Kevin Youkilis. You’re lighting up the Google Alerts now.
A new article out on Dice-K’s magical midseason return…
Tony Massarotten has some opinions on Josh Beckett.
Josh Beckett is missing the point, though there is the possibility that he is simply trying to avoid it. This is not about chicken. This is not about beer. This is not even about on-field failure, because the Red Sox and their followers have endured a good deal of that before, too.
What this is about, quite simply, is the seeming absence of commitment from a man whom the Red Sox once regarded as a model of dedication.
Could we just FORGET about past transgressions and move on?
Like today. I’m forgetting that crack you made about my lamp, One, and feigning genuine concern over the dent in your forehead.
It’s exactly like that. 10:29. This is still happening. I still don’t have my coffee. And this is still fricking happening.
10:37. Just had a phone interview with a relief worker in Japan. Not exactly a “can I call you back later?” situation. With thuds. And barks. And stress in the background…
I wish I could teleport to tomorrow.
10:41. I am SO late for work.
10:42- the Realization that I have SO MUCH refrigerated food. And nothing to eat it with. And no microwave.
In case you were wondering what my dog was doing in the bathroom-
She was chewing through her leash.
I have another leash.
It is in a moving truck on the way to Raleigh.
And I am late for work., And at least 20 minutes from a leash store.
I am trying to figure out what part of today doesn’t suck.
And when this panic attack will end.
Until we meet again…
Kevin Youkilis’ ultimate betrayal. Oh. And someone thinks Mike Aviles is interesting. WHY, Youk?! WHY?
It is 5:23. Apparently, I’m not good at floor sleeping. Everything is packed. Everything is in a box. Or stacked. Or piled. Or something. And the movers will be here in three hours. I’m supposed to go to work (last day! last day!) in 3.5 hours. 12 hours from that, I’m supposed to go to the bar. 12 hours from that, I drive to Raleigh to sign a lease. Monday- stuff arrives. Tuesday- Work starts. I think it’s only appropriate that I leave this place as stressed out as when I got here just over two years ago…
I’d love to sleep for an hour. And nothing puts me to sleep like the 11-12 offseason! I mean, Roy Oswalt: The Indecision! It’s like narcolepsy inducer. So, here are some news briefs. They’re more for me than you.
Yay! Jon Lester news! Jon Lester is in Fort Myers being a badass. I’m glad the media can finally get past Soxsplosion and actually report on something positive for a… oh.
Though he was named as one of the fried chicken-and-beer trio, Lester was among the first players to address the situation back in October. And now he is in camp, working hard, looking lean, and excited about the coming season.
OF COURSE. Can’t compliment you without a KFC throwback…
Apparently, he’s “setting an example” and already working with… wait for it… DICE-K!!!!
Rich Hill is coming back from Tommy John surgery. Remember when he broke?
This isn’t working. I’m not tired yet. Are you tired?
So, the Red Sox have their own plane. John Henry, you are rich. Why hasn’t this already happened?
Oh, look! An article on Mike Aviles. That’s new.
Red Sox fans likely will never forget their team’s epic collapse in 2011.
It was bad enough that Boston blew a nine-game lead on the Rays for the wild card in September, missing the playoffs. But there also were reports of pitchers Jon Lester, John Lackey and Josh Beckett drinking beer and eating fried chicken in the clubhouse during games. Terry Francona, the ultimate players’ manager, supposedly lost the team, and then his job. Wonder boy general manager Theo Epstein would leave town, too, off to the Cubs.
Seriously??? THAT is how you open a Mike Aviles article? Thanks for the reminder, champ. Thanks.
However, during the debacle, there was also a rebirth. For the first time in a long time, Red Sox infielder Mike Aviles, a 1999 Middletown graduate, felt wanted.
He’s not going to cry, is he?
“I think Boston did wonders for me in only a short period of time,” said Aviles, who will report next week to Boston’s spring training facility in Fort Myers, Fla. “I was grateful for the opportunity Kansas City gave me. I had to scratch and claw for every at-bat in Kansas City, and I had to in Boston, too. But in Boston, it just seemed like they wanted me to play when I did. That makes a person feel wanted.
“It got to a point in Kansas City that I did everything I could, but it wasn’t good enough. Coming to Boston was a blessing in disguise.”
Hey! It’s working!
I think I’ll actually be able to…. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
The happy couple, who spent Super Bowl week together with the Brady clan in Indy, got engaged “recently” after dating for at least a year, we’re told from a few F.O.Ys.
My feelings can best be expressed through the following clip:
I will NEVER go to sleep now. DAMNIT, Youkie.
Don’t put me through this AGAIN.
Maybe… Maybe it’s not serious. I mean, she lives in California, right?
In fact, the future Mrs. Youk, a schoolteacher, and her daughter, Jordan, 5, will move to Florida from California when the third baseman reports to spring training later this month.
Seriously, Youk. What’s with you and Tom Brady’s sisters? First reports of NANCY. Now reports of JULIE? If my brother cried and botched games, would you love me? Because it can be arranged, sir. IT CAN BE ARRANGED.
Maybe this is a sleep-deprived nightmare.
Maybe I can forget about this.
I’m going to go take a shower since I’m never sleeping again.
I hate change.
I will never love again.
Our father, Tim Wakefield, hallowed be his pitch… may be hitting the National League.
Is it wrong to kind of want to see that happen because Timmy-at-the-bat sounds entertaining? Oh. Right. National League. As in NOT IN BOSTON. I can feel the gods themselves trembling, can’t you?
Timmy, Timmy, Timmy. I know that you are (well) old enough to make your own decision, but let me tell you what I, the official spokesman today (why not?) for Red Sox Nation has to say… You could retire… OR-
Go to spring training as a non-roster player!
Do it, Timmy, and here’s why-
You come through in a clutch. You know it. We know it. Benny C knows it.
We’re going to need your clutch powers this summer. We’ve got Dice-K (who, let’s be honest, could melt like Elphaba by May). We’ve got Bard (who, let’s be honest, is so going to wind up back in the bullpen. I hope I’m wrong). We’ve got Josh Beckett (who, let’s be honest, is one beer can away from punching that sexy pitch fist through the dugout). And Buccholz (who I predict will break in June). And then we’ve got the bargain binners and the criminals (Vincente, you know they’re alllllll thinking it). And let’s be honest. We’re not even going to have Jason Varitek and his stern, but firm looks and worldly control over all things pitchtastic. Children need a father figure, Timmy. And trust me, our bullpen/rotation is full of CHILDREN. Without you, they’ll be awash in a sea of confusion and cupcakes (see, I predict cupcakes will be the beer-chicken of 2012).
Stay. Have a shot at the Clemens record. Stay. Retire in a uniform. Stay. Continue to have fans that don’t just count on you for strikes- but respect you for decades of service.
Or go. Go to the National Leagues. Hang out. Tell all your “back in my day” stories to an inattentive audience. And have to move. Moving, Tim, SUCKS. There’s packing. And box finding. And packing. And not ALL liquor stores will give you boxes. And there’s u-haul renting. And deposit paying. And lease get-outing. And before you know it, you have your first gray hair. Well, you think it’s yours. It could be your dog’s. You both have very similar hair. And she does steal your hair brush. And why did you buy all those canned black beans anyway? You can’t throw them away. They’re food. You can’t give them to the poor because you’re poor. They’re too heavy for the crappy boxes. And damnit, BOONE. WHY ARE YOU SO COLD?
What were we talking about again?
DON’T LEAVE US, TIM WAKEFIELD!!!!!
“We’re discussing the options — and he has some options — and over the next few days, we’re going to try to figure it out,” agent Barry Meister said by phone today. “These next few days is just a period of introspection, where he’s trying to decide what to do, whether to play, who to play for.”
Meister is a great last name. I think it means master.
Barry Meister won’t pack up your boxes for you, Tim Wakefield.
And you’re old. And you probably have a bad back. You probably got it from helping the aliens craft the pyramids during your teenage years. Carrying that sleeper loveseat down all those stairs in the snow is REALLY going to suck for you.
So, Soxies! What are your thoughts on Timmy? Recount your memories- and maybe, together, we’ll convince daddy to stay.
PS- It’s not official, but I found a smarmy Timmy fan page. I mean, MY blog has more visitors… but…
Cocaine. OF COURSE YOU DID, “Oil Can” Boyd. And yes, thanks, America- for making this relevant JUST as the beer stains and chicken grease were starting to fade. And THANK YOU, “Oil Can” Boyd, for your sudden AND SUPER RELEVANT, BY THE WAY, admission. Why the FRICK would you start word vomiting? Oh. OF COURSE. So blow, hmm? You sure?
“Oh yeah, at every ballpark,’’ he said. “There wasn’t one ballpark that I probably didn’t stay up all night, until four or five in the morning, and the same thing is still in your system. It’s not like you have time to go do it while in the game, which I had done that.
“Some of the best games I’ve ever, ever pitched in the major leagues I stayed up all night; I’d say two-thirds of them,’’ said Boyd. “If I had went to bed, I would have won 150 ballgames in the time span that I played. I feel like my career was cut short for a lot of reasons, but I wasn’t doing anything that hundreds of ballplayers weren’t doing at the time; because that’s how I learned it.
“It was something that I had to deal with personally and I succumbed. I lived through my life and I feel good about myself. I have no regrets about what I did or said about anything that I said or did. I’m a stand-up person and I came from a quality background of people.’’
Oh. Okay. So you were loaded. Awesome. Here’s my favorite part. Where he says he was ousted because of his color and not his nose candy.
“The reason I caught the deep end to it is because I’m black. The bottom line is the game carries a lot of bigotry, and that was an easy way for them to do it,’’ Boyd said.
Who are you anyway?
Wikipedia says you stopped playing because of blood clots in your arm. ARE YOU ACCUSING WIKIPEDIA OF LYING?
Seriously? That’s your REAL picture? And we didn’t know you were on blow?
See, I’ve heard of you, Boyd. But, since you stopped playing for the Sox about the time I turned five-years-old, I find you irrelevant and you give me this guy-under-a-bridge-vibe. I think it’s the facial hair. Could be the hat.
Is there a particular reason you are publishing this tell-all book, BOYD? Other than blow money?
This stuff really irritates me.
In feign-your-shock news, Roy Oswalt and Boston are still pretending to talk.
The Boston Red Sox have been talking to Roy Oswalt off and on this winter, but it doesn’t appear that a deal will be made.
Roy Oswalt, I’m going to try to say this WITHOUT rolling my eyes. WHATEVER.
Seriously. You’ve burned the Tigers. The Reds don’t give a frick. The Cards can’t put out. And you’re just standing there, shivering, naked without a team. Game plan, Roy. Whatcha going to do?
If you don’t decide soon, we have a Green Monstah outfit that looks about your size…
Seriously. Play for us. Don’t play for us. Dance a Papeljig off a dock into a shark sea. I don’t give a frick. Just please, please, please stop distracting my news alerts with your repetitive crap.
And ALWAYS wear a hat. Your head looks ridiculous.
PS- Seriously! Someone did cocaine in the 80s????? Send out a full press alert.
What a ridiculous news day.
In a move that has this song in my head all day-
-Ben Cherington adopted a child for us. His name is Daniel McGrath and he’s 17. And now the Red Sox are his daddy.
Daniel McGrath. Hmmm. It’s the 5th highest $$$ signing out of the 435 Aussies signed to play. Don’t worry. He’ll “complete year 12” before Soxing it to spring training next year. And, hey, maybe the beer store will start carding. So, there’s that.
Maybe that’s Benny’s plan. Import people who CAN’T buy beer for the clubhouse.
It doesn’t say how he got his super powers… but I think we all know where that 150 km/hr fastball pitch REALLY came from.
Do you think he’ll introduce us to Gary Busey?
In other news, Trot Nixon is heading this Hall of Fame class… but the REAL news is that he went to New Hanover High School in Wilmington. Did YOU know that? I’ve been there like, a bazillion times. It’s the high school that every movie/tv show uses when they film in North Carolina- a high school I became acquainted with during my actor days. And, apparently, Trot Nixon could have been in the same town. You’d think that someone would have told me.
Oh! Oh! Oh! But there’s more news!
Giving us yet another reason to roll our eyes at New York, Mayor Bloomberg called Boston “Loserville.” Really. Mr. Bloomberg, do you know what comeuppins are? Because they’re comeuppining in April. Loserville? Really? Tim Thomas? Are you going to stand for that? I’ll be checking Facebok later for your statement.
I will remember this, Mr. Bloomberg, and I will rub your snotty little New York nose in it on behalf of all New England (just don’t cry again, Tom Brady) in April. Seriously, footballians, stop crying. How many rings does New England have? Honestly. You’d think you were Michelle Kwan. And a silver medal isn’t THAT bad.
And stop. STOP. Pulling baseball fans into your web of depression with whiny reminders like:
If only Wes Welker caught the ball. If he had, the city of Boston would still be sweeping up the confetti and Tom Brady would be resting comfortably in the pantheon of football greats. We’d still think Giselle Bundchen was charming and we’d be practicing dance moves to imitate Rob Gronkowski’s postgame partying. Eric Wilbur would be living a peaceful life.
Sound familiar? Sure does. In fact, it sounds a lot like last September.
SHUT. UP. Seriously, New England. You WON the Sandwich Monday Contest. Who NEEDS the Super Bowl?
Arbitration has been scheduled for Papi. Here’s to hoping it’s quick and painless!
I’m not the only one, btw, who rolled my eyes at Dan Shaughnessy yesterday. Our friends at Fenway West also voiced their whatevers at ya, Dan.
Speaking of rolling our eyes, the Roy Oswalt drama continues. And my eyes? They’re still rolling. You’d think they’d get tired.
So, kiddies, what do you think? Teenagers. Papi. Roy Oswalt. I’d like to hear your thoughts of the whole mess that is the Red Sox offseason.