Jonny Boy


(Photo from Boston.com)

What did I tell you people yesterday about Varitek hitting the home runs? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

And little Jonny Lester, who, I am always surprised to hear, has the voice of an actual grown-up man and not a Dennis the Menace sidekick that I always expect him to sound like. I think it’s just, with everything Jon Lester has gone through – much of it so much bigger than baseball – we as a fan base have coddled him and tried to protect him and wanted only good things for him. Which is a noble pursuit, obviously. But we sometimes forget that he’s a big boy and as far as baseball is concerned, he can handle that on his own. He’s dealt with bigger stuff, this baseball business ain’t no thing. Personally, I will always remember the shot of his parents in the stands in Cleveland during his first game back last season and the look on his mother’s face. You can’t really describe it, but you know what I mean. So much relief and fear mixed with the sheer will for something good to happen. She looked like a mother, basically. I think of that look when I think of Jon Lester, more even than the fact that he was the winning pitcher in Game 4 of the World Series last year. And so when I see Jon Lester do something awesome on a baseball field, like his 6 2/3 of scoreless pitching yesterday with only one runner advancing past first base, I think of his mom’s face, and what she must look like now. But then I also try to remember that Jon Lester does not want to spend the rest of his life as Cancer Survivor Jon Lester. He just wants to be a baseball player. And that’s what he’s focusing on.

But I will still totally get him that puppy if he wants it.

Sorry, I got a little philosophical and deep there. Mostly unintended but, you see, I broke my bed last weekend and I’ve had to sleep on the sleeper sofa in my living room and I think the change in scenery plus the fact that I can fall asleep watching baseball has given me some weird dreams and deep thoughts. And also a cat who has chosen to start sleeping ON MY HEAD. I live a very bizarre life, people.

But as for the baseball, can we all calm down about David Ortiz’s lack of power now? Four games into the season is really not the time to be freaking out and losing our collective shit, I’m thinking. By Ortiz’s own admission, he’s been “fighting a lot of [expletive], man.” But the dude had off-season knee surgery. Also, he’s not a small man. It’s gonna take some time to recover. Plus, he’s been flying all over creation and I don’t care how roomy the seats are, that’s not gonna be terribly conducive to proper stretching techniques. But he’s going to be fine. He’s Papi, man, he’s practically super human.

Oh, and I’m not sure how long it lasts but if you’re not already, you should take advantage of the free preview of MLB Extra Innings that’s going on right now. Greta and I watched the Orioles comeback win over the (Devil) Rays last night and it was a sight to see. It was also something to hear what with Jim Palmer, sorry, Hall of Famer Jim Palmer being all know-it-all Jim Palmer-y and Greta queuing up “Orioles Magic” on her laptop and singing it directly into the face of my terrified cat. Which, since it resulted in a win, is now going to have to happen pretty much every day until it stops working. I’m sure Rocky is thrilled.

But finally, what would you give to hear a Red Sox/Orioles game called by Jim Palmer and Dennis Eckersley? I have no verification on this but I’m pretty sure they hate each other – probably stemming from an incident with a “lady friend” back in the day – and I think there’d be a lot of insults flying about feathered mullets and hair helmets and by the sixth inning, someone would probably have to step in and separate them when Eckersley started making snide comments about “The Money Store.” It’d be comedy gold. We need to make this happen.

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