2 posts tagged “red sox”
...for the Dropkick Murphys. I drank Guinness with them in the mid-90's in a dark, Back Bay of Boston bar (alliteration not really intended) and now they've made it. From their roots, which might be described as 'Celtic thunder punk', they've emerged as a crossover into (somewhat) mainstream rock. Their airplay-unfriendly tunes are reminscent of the Clash; and the gravelly, alcohol fueled choruses of Sid Vicious or Bon Scott. Talent? Meh. What good is talent if you can't get an audience to listen or appreciate it?
These guys represent the working class hero, the third shifter, the unsung duplex-dweller working two jobs to support his ex-wife (s) and 3 kids. They sing about unions, drinking, lost loves, Ireland, street fighting, Irish culture and...did I mention drinking? How else could they get away with the "noise" of a bagpipe and expect to sell records to the masses? Not since Jethro Tull introduced a flute to the hungry FM radiophiles, has this type of ground been broken.
Well, they didn't expect to sell to the masses. These guys can barely sing, but man, can they light the fire of enthusiasm into a crowd! They are selling records, and I couldn't be happier for this ragtag group of guys that play because they love to play; not to be chart toppers. The end of their anonymity started when the Red Sox adopted their song "Tessie" in 2004, the year the Curse of the Babe fell after 86 years. Next, Jimmy Fallon's Fever Pitch in 2005. Then, you could almost hear bells ringing in an emerald colored field far across the pond when The Departed used 'Shipping up to Boston' in a handful of its scenes and as the credits rolled. I still wonder if hometown boy, Matt Damon had anything to do with that. Martin Scorsese could hardly know the true color of Boston's Back Bay area.
Now, as I was putting 2007 to bed, almost literally, while I read the Year End issue of Rolling Stone on New Year's Eve...there they were...almost on the very last page of the 2007 Year in Review issue.... Name in print, in the (arguably) preeminent mag of music, as # 49 on a list of the top 50 best albums of 2007. From the comfort of my overstuffed leather chair, I cracked a wry smile, miles and years removed from the cold, dark streets of a Boston winter...
Ok, so they didn't crack the top 10 or 20, and their music may never make it onto any popular chart. But, just seeing these guys on ANY list of top 50, warms the core of my being. Strangely, I feel proud for my beloved city of Boston, and to have known them "back in the day" when they played to crowds you could count on both hands. And, most of the "crowd" could barely count on ANY hand by the time they took stage, ifyouknowadimean. I admire them for having made it in the music industry, without a single aspiration to do so. All they wanted to do was pay the bills, and have some fun while doing it. The music industry, as a whole, should take note. So, Slainte, America! Listen and just try not to wanna drink a Harp, watch a hockey fight or sack your boss !!!
*17 October UPDATE
Now that my Sox are on the verge of yet another postseason collapse, I'm beginning to think that perhaps they miss the rivalry of the Yankees. There really is no basis for a Cleveland-Boston rivalry, and they are playing like it is a March series in the Grapefruit League. With the exception of the repeat stars trying to carry the team on their back (Big Papi, Manny, Mike Lowell) the Sox are horribly undermatched to the enthusiasm and talent of this Cleveland team. I wish them luck.
As for the perennial scapegoats: This year, recent high dollar, marquis names haven't even come anywhere close to the expectations this team had, and why they were paid handsomely to come to the Sox...
Eric "Gag me with a spoon" Gagne can sit next to Calvin Schiraldi in the Sox Hall of Shame.
J.D. "Just Disastrous" Drew can take his contract and his .240 batting average and piss off.
Coco Crisp and Julio Lugo haven't made any glaring errors like *shudder* Bill Buckner or Johnny Pesky some 40 years before him, but they might as well have. Both have left more men stranded than a Cuban Coast Guard vessel in the Florida Straits, and look like little girls in the batter's box.
On the flip side, great years for Josh Beckett and rookie Dustin Pedroia will get overlooked now, as the Sox fade into yet another October twilight. Well....at least they delayed golf season by a couple of weeks this year....
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I am a lifelong Red Sox fan. My grandfather took me to my first game when I was 5. Flashes of it, are some of my earliest memories, perhaps fabricated through the years of storytelling, as I have no recollection of much of anything before my 7th birthday. (apparently, my grey matter long ago reached capacity, and I have to "brain dump" memories just to cram more stuff in.) My grandfather lived his entire life as a Red Sox fan, and saw a grand total of zero World Championships. He was born months after the 1918 championship team raised the trophy, and he died in 2003, one year before the 2004 World Series win. The curse, trials and misfortunes of the Red Sox' 86 year World Series drought has been widely discussed and written about, and frankly, I don't care to rehash them here. (In the words of Dr. Smith of Lost in Space fame: "Oh, the pain....the pain!")
Today I pay homage to the dreaded Yankees, whom I loathe to the core of my being. As a lifelong Red Sox fan, I take great pleasure in the misfortune of the Yankees and their fans. This "hatred" of Yankee pinstripes happens early in the life of any Sawx fan. (I'd like to think that this photo below is digitally altered, but knowing Sox fans??? Meh. Maybe not.)
But somehow, especially this year, I have inexplicably learned to respect the Yankee organization...just don't tell any of my family or friends because they may disown me. (I'm only half kidding.)
So, last night, as the Cleveland Indians closed the door on this team that I despise, I felt a pang of sadness. It was a small pang; a slight discomfort, hidden somewhere beneath the sheer jubilation, but it was present nonetheless. I didn't like it one bit. I'm supposed to hate the Yankees with every fiber of my being. What the hell is this that I'm feeling??? I may need to see a medical professional sometime today.
The Yankees pulled off something that my Red Sox could NEVER and likely will never do. They rallied from 14 1/2 games out of contention and made it a pennant race until the very end. Were it not for some misfortune for the Yanks, and some luck on the part of my Sox (the 9th inning walk off home run by Big Papi late in the regular season against the Devil Rays comes to mind....That was a ball that was misplayed by Tampa's young outfielder, a ball that should have been caught, and a game the Sox should have lost), the Yanks very well may have taken the AL pennant this year. Had the matchups been different---Sox versus Indians and/or Yankees versus Angels, this outcome may have been quite different. Sure, its all hypothetical and we could play the "what if" game all day long, but still...how could you not respect this Yankees team? They are there every year, typically looking back at my Sox with a comfortable lead. Its a battle for my poor Red Sox each and every year and the Yankees USUALLY come out on top. This year, it is different. The Sox took the pennant, and are riding the momentum of a 3 game ALDS sweep of Vlad and his Angels. The Yanks are out. I should be effing ecstatic about this! What's wrong with me?!?
I'll tell you what's wrong with me....I became a baseball fan again. I swore off baseball in general after the last strike year, sometime in the mid 1990's. I'll always love the Sox. They'll always be my team. Year in and year out, I will root for the Sox and for whatever team is playing the Yankees. The joke in Boston when asked the question: "Who is your favorite team?", ....
"My favrid team is da Sawx and whoeva is playin the Gawddamn Yangkees!" One rarely uses the term Yankee without the words Gawddamn preceding it.
So, how can I deny my roots? How can I possibly supress years of loathing the Bronx Bombers? I should be dancing in the streets! My Sox are in, the Yanks are out....Pure Boston baseball bliss! However, with a rediscovered love of the game, as a purist, how can I not respect the Yankees? And, doesn't baseball lore lose just a little something in any year that the Yankees and Red Sox don't meet in the postseason? (If you're not a Sox or Yankees fan, that's probably a pretty tough pill for you to swallow. Deal with it.)
Joe Torre is undoubtedly facing the wrath of the New York media today and, perhaps worse, the wrath of the irrepressible Mr. Steinbrenner. Torre is a man who led the Yankees to 3 World Series championships, and, correct me if I'm wrong, was still at the helm of the Yanks, as they stormed back from 14 1/2 games out this year. Now, all you hear about is the three straight years of early postseason exits, culminating in last night's loss. His job is supposedly in jeopardy. Absolute success is not an option or a goal as a Yankee....Its a given, and a necessity. I wish my Sox were so possessed with success. My Sox? Ha! We are resigned to long fall months sitting and watching others teams play. Granted, the recent success of the Sox since 2004 is sweet, but must be savored, for its only a matter of time before we're in the AL basement. That's the defeatist attitude of most Sox fans, battered and bruised from years of failure and missteps.
And, what about A-Rod? His postseason woes are well documented, and were largely perpetuated this year as well. This was the last year of his $250 million plus contract, and his fate, like Torre's, is in question. For me, as a fan of the game, there is no question. You bring A-Rod (and Torre) back. You pay him top dollar again, and you let him carry the team on his back like he did for much of this MVP year. This guy is the epitome of the term "franchise player". When the Yankees were down and out, he almost singlehandedly brought them back to the brink of yet another pennant. Sure, he had some help, but this guy is worth every penny. As a fan of baseball, the Yankees bring him back. As a fan of the game, the Yanks keep him to add to the lore of Sox-Yankee rivalry. On the other hand, as a Sox fan, I hate him for being the great player he is. I hate him for being a Red Sox killer and for his girly bitch slap of Bronson Arroyo in 2004.
As a Red Sox fan, I hope he goes to the Minnesota Twins and languishes in mediocrity for the rest of his career. Once a Yankee, always a Yankee...
So, as Red Sox fans breathe a collective sigh of relief today, knowing we will not have to face the "evil empire" of the Yankees--for this year anyway--(because, its likely that the Yanks would have had their way with my poor Sox, as they frequently do), this baseball purist and renewed fan of the sport, feels just a little twinge of sympathy for the Devil....just a twinge, mind you...
