Former ladies’ man Clay Buchholz tore up his Dance Floor Dry-Humping Club membership card a few years back. He now lives a quiet family life with his wife, reality TV bombshell Lindsay Clubbine, and their young daughter. Clay took some time out from his preparations for Monday’s Fenway home opener to provide some insight and wisdom from his glory days as a bachelor to Fenway Pastoral readers.
April is a time of renewed hope and I’m sure you’re grateful for the fresh start. But I’m curious: If you could travel back in time and live the life of one former MLB player for just one season, who would it be?
-Albert from Scituate
Well, Albert, this one is pretty easy. It would have to be Wade Boggs in 1987. He hit 24 home runs that year without even trying and he supposedly bagged that many women in the month of April alone – also without really trying. (Showing his sensitive side by balling his eyes out in the Shea Stadium dugout at the end of the ‘86 World Series was a power move by Wade.)
Unfortunately, ‘87 was the last great year for Wade before that realtor from California tried to ruin his life just because he decided he was finished with her. Really, what did she expect? He was just hitting his prime in so many ways and just crushing every pitch and bedding every broad that came into his sightline. He was a legendary carouser, a ballplayer on his way to the Hall of Fame and, oh yeah, he could drink like a hundred beers in one sitting. I mean, who else in history has embodied that many American dreams at once? I appreciate the legendary depravity of a guy like JFK but he had to make major decisions that impacted the world and stuff. Wade just chilled out with his mustache, slugged gallons and gallons of foamers and the magic came to him.
Surprising blind dates with box seats at Fenway Park doesn’t really get the juices flowing the same way it did five years ago. Is there anyway to supplement the experience so that these women are a little more appreciative? These seats ain’t cheap…
-Frank from Salem
Frank, I get tired of lazy dudes like you who think the field box at a Red Sox game is some kind of automatic panty-dropper for some chick you met on the Internet. You guys are always the ones standing and begging for the baseball after I cover the inning’s last out at first base and head to the dugout. Like the baseball is some big teddy bear that you win at a carnival by throwing a baseball through a hole the size of a garbage can. Even worse, back in the day, dudes like you would call me after you caught some ball I’d carefully written my phone number onto and was clearly trying to throw to the broad sitting behind you during warm-ups. You need to get a clue, Frank.
I heard about a beer and hot dog discount at Fenway Park being advertised for April home games. It sounds fantastic. Can you give me more details?
-Bob from Sudbury
Sure, Bob. The $5 beer deal is only applicable for 12-ounce pours of domestic brews like Budweiser. So unless you’re 17 years old, standing in a crowded line just to save a few bucks on a cup of watered-down beer isn’t worth it. You’ll miss half the game. Check out the full-price lines and grab a couple of the more manly 16-ouncers. Yeah, you’ll pay more but dignified dames in the box seats will take notice as you’re walking down the aisle to your seats. They’ll assume money is no object to you and, trust me, that’s what you want them to think. You see, gals are wired to be turned on by that sense of power because that was what it was like way back in the stone ages and stuff. I guarantee that when the alpha-dog cavemen got together for whatever sport was America’s past-time back then, they would not have settled for 25% less beer.
I just got season tickets for Fenway and I’m planning on using one of those popular dating applications for smartphones that tells you where the girls who are ready to put out are located. Which area of the ballpark do you think would be a good jumping off point? Fenway isn’t really that easy to maneuver around in and reception can be kinda crappy so I’d like to be close by so I can swoop in before all the other dudes using Skout blow up my spot.
-Titus from Halifax
The weird nooks and crannies throughout the bowels of Fenway Park are part of its oft-cited charm and character. However, these same features make the ballpark a dizzying maze of walkways, ramps, stairways and green-painted cement walls. If you’re sitting in the left-field grandstand, it’s gonna be pretty hard to get close to some babe looking to party down near Tarp Alley. She’s a pipe dream at that point.
Instead of using your little pocket computer to send out signals, take the bull by the horns and draw attention to yourself the old-fashioned way: Get outrageously drunk and yell vulgar things at the opposing team’s outfielders. Go bare-chested for the last few innings and helicopter your shirt above your head like a maniac – especially if it’s like 40 degrees. At least one woman in your section will take notice and she’ll assume you’re tough because you can’t feel cold (or shame). Then, at the end of the ballgame, if we don’t pull out a win, sit in your seat and cry for a few solid minutes and stare into space as everyone is leaving. This is a desperate measure. But, hey, it worked for Wade Boggs.
Will you pitch a perfect game this season so I can get a free mattress from Jordan’s Furniture? Just don’t be an ass and do it before July 19, OK?
-Chris from Malden
I think it would be even cooler if John Lackey pitched a perfect game through 26 batters and then threw four straight wild pitches to the backstop and dropped to the ground and pretended the infield was one big memory foam mattress. He deserves to have some fun this year.
Talk to you all again real soon.