(Up, down, up, down…)
Hello, we are the Boston Red Sox, or, sometimes, the World Champion Boston Red Sox, although we only occasionally play like it. We enjoy losing in excruciating, nail-biting fashion, leaving our starting pitchers in too long, giving up grand slams to outfielders batting .169 and making girls cry. Just for variety, sometimes we also score many runs off the Yankees and pound them into horsemeat. But that doesn’t last for long. We also don’t like Kristen and have decided never again to win a game that she attends in person, be it Fenway’s friendly confines or some other stadium, even if it’s in another country.
We also enjoy being an emotional rollercoaster of a team and causing heartache and woe for our fans (especially Kristen) who are in the process of a move and don’t have time to pay attention to every pitch. We realize that it would be far too benevolent of us to perform as expected and WIN BASEBALL GAMES so that she can be reasonably stress-free and continue living her life, secure in the knowledge that we, the Boston Red Sox, are playing like the champions we allegedly are.
Upon first glance, it probably appears to the casual observer that we are punishing Kristen for being distracted and focusing her attention on things not related to baseball including said move as well as other, more unpleasant and much more serious matters. But in reality, she can’t leave us alone, continues to write and bitch about us and will not stop saying things like “Do the Toronto fans think we’re going to disagree with their assessment that David Wells is fat?” and “If I had to stare into Jorge Posada’s crotch to get signs for nine innings, I’d stab myself in the cornea with a spork.” So really, it’s quite obvious that she can’t leave well enough alone.
We’ve decided to show her. We issued Saturday’s 17-1 thumping of the “esteemed” and “historic” Yankees as a public apology for the multiple debacles she was forced to watch, Clockwork Orange-style in Toronto and we even kept the good feelings going for another day with a 7-2 smackdown of those very same Yankees. However, we felt she was getting too comfortable with our newfound place in second and yanked the proverbial rug out from under her yesterday as she sat in Grandstand 29 next to her brother and watched us get bitchslapped by the Baltimore Orioles to the tune of 8-1. Even her previously steadfast faith in Bronson has been shaken.
We’ve even got her friends turning on her now. Annette, Amy and Beth have forbidden her from attending any more games until she gets her winning mojo back. Her brother has taken to berating her for choosing the wrong games to attend (as if it’s somehow her fault that we were going to play like chimpanzees with epilepsy), and she’s starting to feel quite depressed about the whole thing. Excellent, a Red Sox fan should never be comfortable.
In conclusion, we’ve caught wind of the fact that Kristen plans to attend Wednesday night’s game pitting Matty Neptune Nuts Clement (her name) against…some dude from the Orioles. Apparently, she was planning on sneaking in, trying to slip in under our radar, perhaps attired in something other than her trademark Varitek jersey and Tom Brady baseball cap. But we’ll be on the lookout if she tries anything funny. We expect, should we blow this one in spectacular fashion as well, that she’ll throw up her hands in exasperation and have done with us for a while. Or so she’ll say. We know Red Sox fans, and we’ve hooked ‘em good.
The Boston Red Sox
All joking aside, I’d like to offer my sincere condolences for the family of Red Sox Spanish language broadcaster Juan Pedro “J.P.” Villaman who was killed in a car crash this weekend. Descanse en la paz, J.P.