Nobody said this was gonna be easy.
Nobody said anyone was gonna give us anything.
Nobody cares about last year.
Nobody thinks we deserve a damn thing.
To paraphrase Tom Petty, repeating is the hardest part.
Ask the Patriots. Better yet, don’t. I’m still not speaking to them.
The Title Defense of Aught Five begins in earnest this afternoon at 4 o’clock. All over New England, and likely the world, people are remembering long forgotten “dentist appointments” and “chiropractic dates” and bosses are becoming more flexible with the concept of the 40-hour work week. I’m in at 8 and out at 4 both today and Friday and I’m counting my blessings that I work across the street from a great bar with good burgers, cold beer and plenty of televisions. Because that’s what I did last year. And last year, it worked.
We’re all trying to remember superstitions, talismans, rituals and prayers. We’re all trying to find lucky hats, lucky shirts, lucky socks, lucky underwear. We’re all trying to do our part.
Because when we win, we win as a Nation. And when we lose, we lose as one too.
Last year, I didn’t have my Surviving Grady crew to celebrate with in victory and commiserate with in defeat. Last year, I went it pretty much alone. But this year, “internet friends” have become “real friends” and I know that no matter what happens, I won’t be watching these games alone. That fact, in and of itself, makes it that much more fun.
Because what’s a win if you can’t share it with someone?
And what’s a loss if there’s no one else to help take out some of the sting?
So today it’s Clement vs. Contreras, a fellow I remember smacking around a good deal some time in the past. Whether this is owing to his former Yankee-ness or the fact that he’s actually 347-years-old remains to be seen. But if The Emancipator is on his game, I say we take him. Papi and Manny need to keep up their Pebbles and Bam Bam, Dominican Destroyer, “anything you can do, I can do better” act and show no mercy. I want Tek, (or “Mr. Varitek,” to Matty) to bring us some of that early season dominance and I want Trot to go house on the pale hose. I want a win, gentlemen. Bring us a win.
The White Sox are tough, and they’re not going down without a fight. But you know what, neither are we.
Real season begins today at 4. Be there.