And, of course, the final blow was delivered this winter by the Hitman himself. What's the deal with Wade Boggs going to the accursed Yankees and telling the press he likes it there? Is this the same Chicken Man who did all the promos for the Jimmy fund and was the idol of every sandlot hitter in New England? Do you realize, Mr. Boggs, that you're wearing the same uniform that Bucky Dent donned when he killed our pennant hopes in '78?
But the biggest questions I find myself pondering late at night during baseball season are the metaphysical ones. Think about this for a moment...The Red Sox finally complete their 75 year quest for World Champions. Clemens and the rest fight triumphantly past the Blue Jays, the A's and the National League to bring home a series pennant. Boston goes bonkers for a few weeks and hundreds of baseball authors find themselves scurrying desperately for new plots.
But what happens after the Sports Illustrated highlight film is complied? I for one wouldn't know what to do. The search would be over, and all would be lost. Assuming world peace isn't declared as a consequence (a strong possibility), baseball in New England would end. There would be nothing to hope for anymore. All rationale in following baseball would be reduced to hoping for a repeat or rooting for personal player achievement.
Has anyone stopped to think about the fact that what we Sox fans pray for every night would in fact lead to the undoing of our sport? Quel Paradox!
These are the kinds of moral dilemmas I have been waiting for months to worry about. Enough with the front page. Give me section C. Reality has been defeated once again by the mighty Boys of Summer.
And it all begins today.