Off the Rails on a Crazy Train

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This might be it. I think it’s reached the point where I have to make a decision regarding this current Red Sox team. I can A) continue to watch every game, live and die by every pitch, pummel the couch cushions, inflict violence on my coffee table and curse the descendants of Rudy Seanez for all eternity or B) I can watch the games, take a deep breath, observe that Amy is correct, Wily Mo Pena really does look like a baby dinosaur in the outfield and comment on Jason Varitek’s questionable sartorial choices and just allow the insanity to take over. I will still do that cursing of the Seanez thing though because seriously.

Let’s put it this way: if the Red Sox were a boyfriend, this is the point in the relationship where we’d be having one of those long, drawn out discussions about whether or not their constant failure to live up to my expectations and be an equal partner resulting in my continual irritaion was set off by the occasional moments of brilliance and happiness. They never do the dishes, they leave their socks in the middle of the living room floor, they always steal the remote and I’m constantly waking up in the middle of the night to find the covers stolen too. Once and a while, they surprise me with concert tickets or a clean kitchen, but not often. If the Red Sox were a boyfriend, I would seriously be considering breaking up with them right now. But that doesn’t work in this scenario because we both know I’m not going anywhere. Again, as Amy observed as we watched Craig Hansen flat our forget he had a sinker tonight, “I would never let a boyfriend treat me the way the Red Sox do.”

So I guess embracing the insanity is the best we can do. We know we’re nuts. They know we’re nuts. They know we’re not going anywhere and our repeated threats to the contrary are empty. And they know it. It’s like they’re even smirking at you through the TV screen. Like they’re saying, “Oh, right, go ahead and become an Orioles fan. Just remember, you won’t have David Ortiz” as Ortiz proceeds to launch a bomb out of Kauffman Stadium. And you rethink your empty threat, even as the team is in the process of losing to the freakin’ Kansas City Royals. This is the life we were born into (or chose in the case of the more insane among us) and this is the life we lead.

Might as well have a little fun with it, right?

Not that there’s anything fun about losing to the Royals because that is not what real baseball teams do, sirs. But I am not speaking to them right now. Instead, let’s just all reflect on the fact that A) evidently, my love is transformative, B) Amy believes that once Rudy Seanez saw Gabe Kapler and Javy Lopez walking next to each other, he became the first player ever to land on the DL with a case of the vapors, and, C) do you think Craig Hansen begs Josh Beckett to introduce him to “Ashley, Courtney’s friend from the DMB concert?” Inquiring minds want to know.


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