And So It Begins…

And now, I sit down to watch the first Red Sox game of the year (since Monday was just a practice run, you see). So very many questions present themselves. Such as: How will Fathead fair in his return. (I’m still calling Beckett “Fathead” until he proves that he deserves to referred to by a normal human name. And even so, I’ll probably next progress to “Dude,” since that’s sooooo Beckett.)

But here’s the thing: I’m fairly certain that on the list of things I’ve missed about baseball season, Dennis Eckersley’s mullet is right at the top. His hair is, as Amy would say, resplendent. Truly magical, that mullet. And hey, as we’ve clearly seen, fantastical hair configurations have only been good to this team in years past. Papelbon is surely doing his part and Schilling isn’t far behind. So I propose a rally cry for this year’s team. Mullets for Magic. What do you think? Come on, that’s right up there with Cowboy Up and the business with the Idiots. What do I have to do to convince Papi to get on board with this? Can you even imagine? David Ortiz with a flowing mullet? I would probably pay one million American dollars to see this. And I do not have one million American dollars. But so strong is my desire to see Papi with a mullet, that I would find some way to fund that. Perhaps by selling a kidney or somesuch.

Okay, can I just say, it’s not terribly encouraging that as Beckett sits in the Sox’ dugout during the top of the first, he looks as though he’s trying valiantly to focus on some fixed point in the distance so as not to get the spins and end up face first in the sunflower seed detritus on the dugout floor. That’s a rather inauspicious start to the season.

And no, I’m not going to liveblog this entire game. That way lies madness. You know what doesn’t cause madness? David Ortiz taking walks and Manny getting hits. And…JD Drew hitting RBI doubles? Okay, that part does confuse me. It’s no less confusing that my roommate has taken to placing my JD Drew Cardinals bobblehead (a sarcastic gift from Orioles fan friend Chris), on the coffee table and…bobbling his head when he does something positive. I don’t know. I think I might have broken her. She’s lived with me through two Red Sox’ seasons and two Patriots’ seasons and I’ve yet to catch her sleepwalking around the apartment, constructing busts of Manny out of cold mashed potatoes or muttering anything about “high fastballs swinging” so she must be a stronger person than I.

Additionally, is the Tony Pena, Jr. that’s currently playing shortstop for the Royals actually the son of former Red Sox catcher (and Royals manager) Tony Pena? Because that? Is awesome. I always had a bit of a warm spot for the elder Tony Pena as I loved the way he’d actually sit cross-legged behind the plate when there were no runners on base. It’s as if he was saying, “Bitch, please. I ain’t ruining my knees for you or anybody.” I would advise Tek to try the same thing except I think Tek is entirely too busy right now fending off the slings and arrows of those people wondering why the hell we’re paying him $10 million a year to NOT HIT THE BASEBALL. Of course by “we” I mean, you know, the people who actually pay his salary. I am not among them. Nevertheless, I really wish that man would hit a baseball now and again. Otherwise, he’s going to break me.

As I write this, the Sox are up 3-1 after one full inning thanks in no small part to Mike Lowell’s bat and his glove. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Mike Lowell is a handsome man, but his defense, his defense is sexy.

Now, let’s just hope no one accidentally steps on Dustin Pedroia during postgame handshakes or anything. I envision the team boarding the bus to the airport one of these days and not being able to find Pedroia only to realize too late that he’s stuck to the bottom of Papi’s shoe. How about this, to keep him safe, after games, he can come and live on my bookshelf, right next to the bobbleheads. I think he’d fit in quite comfortably there between JD Drew and Pedro.

I can’t keep at this all night. I must nourish myself and sleep and such. Look at me trying to set a healthy precedent early in the season. How long do you think that’ll last? I’ve heard a vicious rumor that Matsuzaka’s start tomorrow is happening at 1pm. This is bad news as I’ll be in meetings all day and will remain unaware of just what is going down in Kansas City. But I trust the troops will keep me informed via endless text messages, etc. If it’s anything like the Tom Brady Baby Mama Drama, I will be informed endlessly. But for the time being, I leave the game in the capable (if oft-blistered) hands of Josh Beckett. And Mike Lowell. You know, just for insurance.

Edit: And now that I’ve professed awe at Mike Lowell’s defensive wizardry, he has made back-to-back errors as he clearly cares nothing for me or my accuracy. There goes my Pulitzer.

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