by 
I admit it: it didn’t take long for my Sox allegiances to swing from Red to White.
It was only shortly after the duck boat parade in Boston last fall that my focus shifted midwesterly – specifically to the Cubs. But we all know what happened there. So in the meantime I was continually impressed and excited about these White Sox. A charismatic manager. Solid, hardworking players like Crede and Podsednik. Determined, unphased journeymen like Pierzynski. Sluggers like Konerko and Dye. Problematic and unpredictably gifted Cuban ex-Yankee hurlers, Contreras & El Duque, who both discovered a confidence and comfortability in Guillen’s clubhouse casa that Steinbrenner’s cold hard cash could never engender. A temperamental ace, Buerhle, who was stunning for most of the season but more importantly was the linchpin of the pitching staff on my fantasy team (yeah, that’s right, and I got first place, thank you very much. . .). Even daft and quirky baseball icons like Everett, who my buddy and erstwhile FXA bass player, 12-Gauge, jokes has a lifetime RBI total of 759, but a zero SBI. . . stegosauruses believed in. (Read this article if you’re not laughing.)
Anyway, I didn’t see game 1 of the World Series last night, since I was asleep by 12:30AM when it started here in London. But this picture (stolen from the New York Times) of Ozzie Guillen gesturing for the rookie Bobby Jenks to come in for the last out of the eighth inning to preserve Chicago’s narrow lead. . . what a classic baseball moment. Great baseball drama: rookie Jenks takes on stalwart slugger, Jeff Bagwell. Great baseball personalities: Guillen’s irreverence and humor, stretching his arms out to indicate he wants the big one, the 6’3″ 270 lb Jenks. Hell, even great baseball names: Ozzie Guillen, Bobby Jenks, Jeff frigging Bagwell. . . To be honest, I think the names are half the reason I follow the sport at all.
But perhaps the best part for me this year is celebrating the universality of baseball. My uncle Amram once described it as being “as scripted as Chinese Opera”. . . Okay, I don’t really know what that means. I just love that I can read one article, see one picture, hear one play on the radio. . . and it’s like I was there.
Go Sox.
Pete wasn’t the only one that came up with SBI. I believe that was a Pete-Brendo collaboration.
I HATE when that little bastard doesn’t credit me!
Yes, Beth Berlin just told me about the ‘bisoxual’ term… HA! Apparently in Chicago it’s being used to describe Northside Cubbie fans who are crossing over, but it’s far more appropriate for folks like me.
Oh, and about Fantasy Ball — I knew there must be a reason for the Sparvey radio silence… :) I mean, “stealing” is the only word for what I did with that Fantasy League. He so had first place… Sorry, Matt!
It made it a good season, though. I’m scared for next year. Space Monkeys are going to kick ass, I fear.
My friend Norman (editor of the Brown Alumni Magazine, incidently) refers to people like you (and himself, actually) as bisoxual. I think it’s a good term.
And by the way, you ROBBED Matt of first place in the fantasy league. We’re still a little bitter over here.
Saying nice things about Carl Everett is not OK.
He belongs in the Don’t Mess With Boston Hall of Fame, right up there with “Byung-Hyun Kim just gave Boston fans the finger!” and “Lawrence Summers says women suck at math!”
Saying Carlie-poo is a “daft and quirky baseball icon” is like calling Karl Rove a “creative and hardworking political figure.” I mean, it’s not untrue, but it sort of misses the point.
(Nice call by Pete on Carlie-poo’s sabertoothmetrics, though.)
Arroyo for Cy Young in ’06!