Fans, Not Mainstream Media, Have Long Memories

The adulation showered on Nomar Garciaparra on Monday night at Fenway Park says a lot about the gulf between the Red Sox fan base and the mainstream sports media in Boston.

In stark contrast to the minute-and-a-half standing ovation given by the crowd, the grudge mavens in the local sports media were still spewing the "Moody Nomar" propaganda and insisting that his 2004 departure somehow alienated fans.

Of course, it's always been all about the media on the Red Sox beat. You know, how the players treat them; how their reputations are helped or hurt by the success or failure of the team. They are as clueless today (as they scramble to find some readership on the Internet) as they were in the days when they harassed Ted Williams.

Thank goodness Red Sox fans are not so self-absorbed. They appreciate the Hall of Fame caliber career Nomar delivered while in Boston. They recall the spectacular plays in the field, the clutch home runs, the multiple batting titles, the constant hustle. Most of all, they remember the respect he had for the game and the Red Sox uniform.

Thank you, Nomar. We remember, even if they do not.

Road Uniformity

Initially, I hated them. Actually, I hated the idea of them. The notion of changing one of the most iconic road uniforms in baseball was abhorrent to every "stick-in-the-mud" fiber of my being.

Why change the familiar red "BOSTON" script? (Bad enough that we lost the old Blue "blocky" lettering years ago) Why alter the overall simplicity of the road look? And adding a cartoonish "hanging sox" logo on the sleeve? Gag me with a fork-ball!

But then, as I followed the late night adventures of our Carmine Hose in Oakland and Anaheim and Baltimore and Cleveland, the darn things started to grow on me. Especially the "hanging sox" on the sleeve! The way it was set off from the otherwise drab look gave the uniform a colorful dash. What was happening? I still had a little problem with the blue Old English script that replaced the red letters, but not really. Geez, the lettering kinda looks good, too. Uh-Oh!

OK, OK...I'm holding out on the stupid "hanging sox" on the hat. That's going way too far. The "B" is the "B" and will always be the "B". So, I guess if they bag the hat thing, I'm on board with the new look. Now, about those lousy new Fenway Franks.....

Frankly, New Dog Is A Major Disappointment

The Red Sox New Ownership Group (NOG) kept it under wraps all Winter. The Stealth Campaign to usher in the "New Fenway Frank" was an operation worthy of Ian Fleming.

If you're going to go the secrecy route to protect an exciting new idea, it better actually be exciting. Problem is, the product is not very good. In fact, it's pretty bad.

Last Wednesday night, a team of FenwayNation food tasters made a careful sampling of four New Fenway Franks—from different concession sources. This gives our research a margin of error of plus or minus 3.4 wieners (at the 95% confidence interval).

OK, let's cut to the chase. The New Fenway Frank is meatier, longer and greasier than its beloved predecessor. However, contrary to the pre-introduction warnings, the taste is not materially spicier or smokier. That is, until you get home, and the spiciness (now coagulated as extra grease) hits you like a lead box full of Hebrew Nationals.

Now, we have nothing against the KAYEM company (local makers of the new dog). In fact, we like the idea of the meat source being closer to the end venue. But, NOG, please, give us back our less meaty, shorter, and cleaner-tasting Old Fenway Frank. It flat out tasted better. Lots better. Sometimes, "filler" is better than greasy substance.

If our Wednesday night test is any indication, your dog revenue is about to take a major dive.

It's The Sox—By A Smidgen Over The Rays

The consensus among the baseball cognoscenti is that the three best teams in baseball reside in our American League East. That may be a bit of an exaggeration—but not much.

For a number of reasons, we are picking the Red Sox to narrowly capture the AL East flag by a single game over the defending American League Champion Rays. The also-rans in the $1.5 billion mausoleum in the Bronx will finish out of the post-season for the second straight year—but will only be 2 games off the pace of the Wild Card Rays.

Our reasoning: First, the Red Sox possess the deepest 1-12 pitching staff in baseball. And, if you count the 2 or 3 slots in their minor league system, they are ridiculously well-positioned with up to eight legitimate starters. This has two benefits in a long, close-fought season. They can call up any of these kids to back-fill injuries or bad performances and they can deal any of them at the trading deadline for bargain-basement "Stimulus Era" help. Second, the Red Sox offense should generate just enough "Post-Manny" run production to complement the dominant pitching. Third, what should be one of the league's best defenses will allow for a lot of 1-run victories.

On the flip side, the Rays—while a wonderfully talented blend of youth and experience—are due for enough of a swoon that they will fall short of another Division Crown. The main reason will be the inability of their bullpen to put up the sick numbers they did in 2008—it just can't happen two years in a row.

Finally, our good friends in Gotham City will suffer from a non-existent bullpen (outside of Rivera), and the weight of the A-Roid fiasco. Add to that the excessive pressure on Teixeira to perform big in New York; the brittle $85 million body of A. J. "Burn-Out" and you have a recipe for splendid disaster. They're just so last century.

Bad Breaks Could "Injure" Sox Chances

When a certain third baseman from the Bronx went down with his hip surgery, the chances of your 2009 Red Sox capturing the AL East gonfalon went up exponentially. After all, we already had the best pitching staff in the division 1-12 (or 13); an offense (despite being "Manny-Free") that was as tough as they get 1-7 and, lastly, the "You Can Call Me" Rays were bound to have a sophomore swoon.

Ah, but then the dreaded Curse Of The Nurse hit. Julio Lugo tore up his knee; Dustin Pedroia strained an abdominal muscle at World Baseball Lite (we told you so!), and all of a sudden the Red Sox infield is about as deep as the lead baritone's voice on the Vienna Boy's Choir. Some guy named Nick Green is probably going to make it out of camp as the new Alex Cora. Nick Green? Oh, my.

So, the lesson to be learned, Red Sox fans, is that (forget starting pitching) you can never have enough back-up infielders. What does all this mean in the grand scheme of things? Probably, that the Sox revert to an even shot to take the AL East—with the Empire about as likely to finish first. That's assuming that the Curse Of The Nurse doesn't re-visit that third basemen when he returns in May.

WBC Is Anything But!

Remember the great "New Coke" controversy of the 1980s? Well, for those of you too young to recall (or, old enough but with a life), Coke decided to foist a "new" taste on consumers that quickly became a marketing nightmare--turned out people liked the "real thing" just fine, thank you. The Coke people had to re-trench and re-brand their original product "Coke Classic"--which survives until today.

Which brings us to the World Baseball "Classic". Sorry, Bud, this monstrosity isn't truly world-wide; it sure ain't "classic" and it's barely baseball. First of all, the eligibility rules are so lax, that pretty much anybody could qualify to play for Team Uzbekistan if they dug hard enough into their ancestry. Second, the only thing "classic" about this is the classic disaster that could befall any number of clubs when their ace pitcher or stud first baseman pulls a hammy for God and Country (there are 15 Red Sox who could meet this fate). Third, with dumb rules like automatically placing runners on first and second after the 13th inning, it's more attuned to NCAA football than Major League Baseball.

Can we please all grow up, acknowledge the first WBC as kinda cute and all, and move on to adult stuff like the 2009 MLB season? And don't give me the "it's good for global baseball" baloney. Did anyone else notice the robust crowd of 2,405 who turned out for the Blue Jays-Team Canada exhibition yesterday? And that's in Dunedin, Florida, where there are more Canadians than anywhere else outside of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan.

Please, let's end this silliness this year and get back to real baseball.

Pedro Ex Machina

While I have often been critical of the Red Sox New Ownership Group (NOG), their stewardship of the New England Sports Network (NESN) has been stellar to say the least. In particular, they understand the never-ending hunger of Red Sox fans to watch historic games over and over—be it in July or January.

I had the good fortune to watch a large chunk of one such recent telecast of the August 29, 2000 Pedro Martinez "1-hitter brawl game" at the Trop in St. Petersburg. In the midst of perhaps his most dominant year, Pedro ignited a classic brawl by plunking Gerald "Ice" Williams on the fourth pitch of the game. After the melee', (in which 5 Devil Rays were ejected), Pedro retired 24 batters in a row—coming within three outs of his first no-hitter (which eludes him to this day).

But Pedro's awesome display (routinely mixing 96 MPH fast-balls with devastating change-ups) was not what caught my attention. Rather, it was what occurred in the midst of a tough at-bat by once-and- future Red Sox catcher John Flaherty to lead off the 9th inning. As Pedro prepared to deliver his 2-2 offering, he paused to notice that his religious chain had broken and was dangling precariously from his neck. He grabbed at it, looked curiously at the detached icon and gathered it into his hip pocket. Can you smell what's coming?

On the very next pitch, Flaherty roped an opposite field base-hit into right-center on a blistering Pedro fast-ball. Said Pedro after losing the no-no: "I think my career is more interesting than one game". Holy smokes, I don't know about that!