Solonor's Inkwell

I’m not jumping off the bridge because the Sox lost their opening game (like they’ve done almost every year I’ve been alive). In fact, as ugly as last night’s game was, I’m kinda glad they got smacked around a bit. After an off-season full of parades and TV appearances and being treated like fricking kings, I hope the reminder that they are still the David to New York’s Goliath will bring them back to earth. Hello? Boston? Yes, it was an amazing comeback, but you were the Wild Card team last year. Don’t go gettin’ cockey, kid.

And, ya know, I love Jon Miller and Joe Morgan (at least as compared to the Fox alternative), but their constant harping on last year’s ALCS and the “aren’t we hip?” new music segment just served to remind me that all national sports announcers have devolved into marketing hacks. They’re out to convince us that there is no possible way we could enjoy the game without their hype. In their minds, they’re the Super Awesome Talent Agency, and we can’t live without them.

As for 2004, I’m with Theo Epstein who said, “Didn’t you get the memo? We’re not talking about that anymore. This is 2005.”

Now, if we can just get them to stop going on and on about steroids…

WARNING: Readers of a certain age and political persuasion (i.e., baseball fans) will find the following link to be filled with misty, water-colored memories. This blog will not be held responsible for any Olivia Newton-John flashbacks caused by clicking on said link. Proceed at your own risk. Readers age 35 or younger are advised to ignore the following “old guy crap”.

A remembrance of the 1975 All-Star Game by Stephen Jordan.

Excuse me, now, I’m all verklempt… plus, even though I’m out of Schaefer (the one beer to have when you’re having more than one), I’m also out of Schlitz. And when you’re out of Schlitz… (go ahead and finish the song).