Short stories

CHB's 'writing' has left a sour taste in my mouth, so here's something to take the taste away, one of those little gems that the Internet seems to throw up constantly: To cut a long story short.

There are lots of good stories on there, but my favourite is the one by Simon Armitage:

Megan's baby: John's surname, Jim's eyes.

Classic.

The gloves are off

It could have been funny: parody Schilling's blog, get a few laughs, score a few points. Unfortunately, the CHB doesn't do funny - he does bitter and twisted, with a bunch of worn-out phrases and clichés thrown in for good measure.

Red Sox Nation salutes its finest scribe. Way to go, Dan...

Talkin' trash

Schilling blogs on his start vs. the Orioles: no surprises there.

Millar answers back: priceless.

So all the trash talking I did to him and all the text messages I ragged him with, he got me and I couldnt look at him after the AB, even though i wanted to laugh.

Can 38 Pitches get any better?

"We are such teenage girls"

I had an IM chat with Beth earlier today about the man they call Dice-K, during which I finally had to face up to the truth that has been staring me in the face for the past few weeks: I have a serious baseball crush on this guy.

Last night I left work early to watch Matsuzaka pitch took some work presentations home with me in order to fine-tune them, and found myself in the unusual postion of being totally psyched for a Spring Training game. Part of it was finally being able to see the Sox live on TV as I sat in my living-room, about 6 miles from the Eiffel Tower, but mostly it was about seeing Matsuzaka.

The contrast with today's game was startling. Today I also had some work presentations that needed fine-tuning ("The Art Of The Knuckleball", amongst others). However, much as I love Wake - who, now that Trot has gone, is Mr Red Sox - there was no desperate dash to get home, no irate French drivers giving me the bras d'honneur in my rear-view mirror, no little old ladies jumping for the safety of the nearest bus shelter. I ambled in leisurely in the bottom of the second inning, and that was fine. Plenty of time to sit down, unwind and enjoy the game: both teams, the ballpark, the inane and incessant ESPN chatter, the whole shebang.

Last night, it was all Matsuzaka, all the time: What was he throwing? Is he ever going to swing the bat as a member of the Red Sox? ('Apparently not' would be the answer...). What did his catcher thinkof his stuff? How does pitching coach John Farrell see Dice-K progressing? Was that pitch the famous gyroball / changeup-with-a-screwball-action? How cool is that little 'thank you' nod he gives his teammates whenthe ball comes back from the infield after an out? How big and genuine was that grin when Tito came out, patted him on the butt and took him out of the game? The Pirates - and the game itself - were a mere sideshow, a vehicle for my growing admiration for this new phenom.

Beth - who seems to share my ridiculous enthusiasm for this guy - nailed it once in her post:

He's like the Japanese baseball answer to the Beatles. I feel like we're all watching the Spring Training equivalent of the first appearance on the Ed Sullivan show

and then nailed it again - better and even more succinctly - in our IM conversation:

me: i love dice-k's enthusiasm, his pitching, his smile

Beth: ooh you got a crush!

sok i have a crush too

me: and when he gets the ball back from the infield after an out, he kind of does a mini japanese nod

Beth: eeee we are such teenage girls

I wouldn't admit to it too often, but this time I have to plead guilty as charged.

Out with the old...

...and in with the, erm, old, it would seem. Our new closer is in fact our old closer who last year was our new closer. That clear for everyone? The bottom line is that Papelbon - he of the 35 saves and 0.92 ERA in '06 - is going to be closing games for the Red Sox in 2007.

There will continue to be lingering questions from all quarters about his health, his preparation, how he'll be used etc., but, as Beth says:

And as I plodded through debates and conversations this spring over Donnelly vs. Piniero, Tavarez vs. Timlin, the greedy fan in me kind of knew that none of the above were going to cut the mustard as a closer.

Even if you feel that the official redsox.com line needs to be taken with a pinch of salt, there is a lot to be said for having a guy on the mound who wants to be out there in the ninth inning:

"I felt that there was always that feeling deep down in my heart that I wanted to close," Papelbon said. "For me, it just kept getting at me and getting at me until finally I went to our captain [Jason Varitek] one day and I said, 'Tek, I'm not sleeping good at night. I've got to do something about it. Basically I told him, 'Man, I think I want to close, that's what I want to do.'"

And there are intangible psychological benefits to having him in that role. I've been at Fenway when Papelbon comes in to close a game, and the place goes bananas as he jogs in from the bullpen. Now which would you prefer - the energising feeling that goes through not only the fans but also the rest of the Sox on the field as Papelbon comes into the game, or the deflating, "hang on to your hats" feeling that comes from handing the ball to a guy carrying the title of "Best We Could Do" or "Least Damage Done In Spring Training"? It's not even close.

Tavarez wanted to start, Papelbon wants to close. This way everybody wins. And, hopefully, so will the Red Sox.

The Diceman cometh

Automated Out Of Office Reply:

Dear World,

I'm still here - I'm just not answering the blogline right now. I've shut myself in the little bubble they call TV Land, and plan to stay there between the hours of 1:05pm and 4:30pm ET. I do not wish to be disturbed, unless it becomes clear that the Earth is about to collide with a giant asteroid and disintegrate into a gazillion pieces. Even then, please only leave a message if it looks like the collision is going to happen before the end of the ninth inning.

Many thanks,
Iain

Sensory overload

The tall English guy in the Papelbon T-shirt jumping up and down and yelling "Red Sox on TV!" over and over again?

Yeah, that would be me.

Beautiful Day

The jerseys and caps are really not all that great to look at, but family heritage means I have to respect the nod that St. Patrick's Day gets every year from Major League Baseball.

(Photo: MLB.com)

What better way to spend a Saturday afternoon in March than in the company of a couple of pints of Guinness and the Boston Red Sox?

Wouldn't it be great if it was like this all the time?

Sláinte!

Desperate Dan

It's one of those weeks where it's hard enough to string together a coherent sentence, let alone a blog post. All I'm fit to do is point you in the direction of others who are being creative and relevant and funny. Exhibit A is Call of the Green Monster, who weighs in with another classic post.

Sox on the sofa

I'd seen this commercial a couple of times during NESN's Spring Training broadcasts, and wondered about the economics of the thing. Having read that they took out an insurance policy to cover the cost of a Sox win, it now makes a little more sense.

We need to change some living-room furniture soon. I should give Jordan's a call and see if they deliver out of state... ;-)

The right stuff

Phillies coach John Vukovich passed away yesterday. I never saw him play, and only knew the name from stories told by other players. There's not much you can say to dress up a lifetime .161 average - even if a guy has a great glove - but sometimes it's not just about the stats. You have to respect a player who got a kick out of the things like this:

He made his debut in 1970 and played parts of seven seasons with the Phillies, including the 1980 World Series championship team. He was also a member of the 1975 Reds, who won the World Series that season, and often recalled a story of how he was once pinch-hit for by manager Sparky Anderson in the first inning.

"He loved that story," [Phillies PR manager Greg] Casterioto said.

There will no doubt be tributes from all over baseball, but - in the interest of counter-balancing the "Schilling is a self-promoting blowhard" argument - I wanted to link to the tribute from #38.

There is no doubt in my mind that my career would have been over ten or more years ago without John Vukovich. I often tried to but there was no way I could ever repay him for his commitment to me and the devotion and love he showed me throughout our 15+ years together. John Vukovich was the very person my dad was referring to when he called someone, “good people.” It was the highest compliment my dad could give. John was good people every day of his life, and the game and I will miss him greatly.

There's nothing more to say.

Horse's mouth

I never imagined that, one day after mentioning Rob Bradford's 'insider' Red Sox blog, I would be talking about another blog that is about as inside as it gets, but here it is.

You can accuse Schilling of being many things, but media-shy is not one of them. It will be interesting to see how this develops. I'm not expecting major revelations, but I am wondering to what extent - if at all - cutting out the middle-man will change what we here from Schilling on some of the more touchy topics out there (contracts, steroids, the press etc.).

Even if what we get is limited to this kind of thing:

I’m noticing some things after only five innings. I’m getting a lot of early-count contact. I’m getting less solid contact and getting inside on RHH more because of the two-seamer I’m starting to throw. My split has yet to even show itself from a movement standpoint. My curveball feels very good. My slider, which has basically been absent since last September, showed up on the very first pitch I threw. I’ve never had a great feel for my slider to RHH — it feels flat and short and always has — but I feel like I could throw the back-door slider to LHH with my eyes closed. I screwed up by wasting what could be the best one I’ve ever thrown by throwing it in spring training. I’m not serious, of course, but these are the kinds of things that cross your mind down here.

the curious baseball fan inside of me will be more than satisfied.

Everybody's Talkin'

Pretty much every Sox blogger around has been talking about the new blog on the block from Eagle-Tribune writer Rob Bradford, and although I'm lagging behind the others, I wanted to add my two penn'th, since good writing can never get too much publicity.

The reason that Bradford is getting such good press (if you'll pardon the pun) is that he is giving Sox fans exactly what they crave: interesting, insighful insider information (the 4 I's, if you prefer), delivered crisply and without pretension or an axe to grind. Oh, and he has a wry sense of humour - a nice change from the weapons of mass sarcasm favoured by some of the other Sox writers out there (*cough* Shaugnessy *cough*) - which shines through his writing in little nuggets such as this one, from his latest post.

And what I witnessed will never come around again at any point this year, I guarantee it: I was the only media member in the clubhouse for the entire hour-long availability. There were plenty of players, just no scribes, television crews, or radio sound-getters. For an hour I found myself covering the Kansas City Royals.

Note to Globe, Herald & co.: this is what we want from our baseball writers. Please follow suit.

Sheer brilliance

Kristen has a "Ten Most Awesome Things That Have Happened So Far" take on Spring Training over at Basegirl.

You should already be over there, but in case you're still here and in need of a little extra persuadin', here's a taster:

5. The absolute, unbelievable wee-ness of Dustin Pedroia. Seriously, he is so tiny. He's like a pocket person. I am confident that I could pick him up and put him in the front pocket of my hoodie and take him out whenever I needed to turn a double play on the fly.

Make your life better by dashing over there and reading it. Now.

Heretic

I have a confession to make: tonight, when I get home from work, I'm going to watch some baseball, and it will be a game that does not involve the Red Sox. Not only that, but it will be a game featuring the arch-enemy, the Yankees, who are playing the Tigers at Legends Field.

Before anyone gets on the phone to try to get my membership of Red Sox Nation revoked, I'd like to explain. Baseball here in the desert is synonymous with the Internet. All the games I get to see are broadcast via MLB.TV on my PC. Occasionally I've been able to watch games on my TV on DVD, but tonight is a truly historic night for me: we have a new cable service, which carries NASN (not to be confused with NESN, unfortunately), and tonight is the first time ever that I will get to see a live baseball game on my TV.

There has been a lot of talk recently of the Direct TV / MLB Extra Innings fiasco, but despite that, the average baseball fan has a level of access to the game that I can only dream of. Tonight's game is an inconsequential spring training contest that would barely register a tiny blip on the radar screen of most baseball fans, for whom baseball is only ever a click of the remote away. It's something the average fan might switch on as background whilst making dinner or balancing the checkbook, but for me to be able to sit down, switch on the TV and see baseball being beamed (or whatever the word for cable images is - 'fed'?) into my living room is huge.

So, please be kind - don't banish me for willingly watching the Yankees. It's a bit like Neil Armstrong walking on the moon: "One small step for ESPN, one giant leap for the Baseball Desert." Don't worry - I'm just going to walk around for a while and plant my banner. I'll be back in Red Sox Nation quicker you can say "Schilling's new pitch".