The Boston Globe recently announced that it will move all of its Red Sox content behind its online paywall. Not to worry, however: 43-year-old Carver man and friend of the site Francis Flynn is an avid Red Sox fan, Boston-born and bred. Flynn’s day job is maintaining a 10-acre cranberry bog and tract of farmland that has been in his family for three generations. But his passion is following his region’s most beloved baseball team.
Flynn watches nearly every game and recently signed an agreement to provide Fenway Pastoral readers with his own recaps throughout the 2014 regular season. All we had to do in return was promise to publish his pieces unedited and to send him a case of Miller High Life (bar bottles were specified) every week.
Now I know what it’s like to sit in a press box writing one of these things. My wife is sitting next to me main-lining Cape Codders and spouting verbal barbs my way. (She’s pissed cuz she’s missing the Duck Dynasty marathon on A&E.) She can drone on about diuretics and all that, but she drinks the cranberry juice to spite me. Me, I never touch the stuff. That would be like an accountant going home at the end of a hard day and charting equations. Cranberries may be responsible for my livelihood but they ain’t gonna have a say in my leisure.
Before I dive into my thoughts on the game tonight, my friend Joey down at the fish market told me about the Ortiz selfie with President Obama yesterday. I’m not happy about it. But that has nothing much to do with my political leanings or any personal problem with the man making some extra money as a cell phone salesman. My feeling is this: Grown men taking pictures together like that with a phone? Staged or not, I don’t care. That kind of thing is for teenagers prancing around the shopping mall. Maybe Ortiz and Obama can head over to the food court afterward and share an Orange Julius. Perfectly good day ruined with all that nonsense.
Tonight’s game is the way I like to see ‘em played out. Dusty had four hits and Nap hit a jack and had four runs batted in.
And how do ya like Lackey now, huh? You can sense he’s still got that same hunger and drive that made him so good last year. That cheating rat bastard Cruz hit another homer tonight, but Lack didn’t let it phase him. And I loved seeing that raw emotion on the mound – he was cussing swear words like a sailor you could tell. Haha.
And not for nothing, I love this Alexander Bogahts. For a guy who started out playing stickball down in the Caribbean, he’s got a wicked sense of the strike zone.
So these game summaries are pretty simple. I just covered all yous need to know. Sox are 1-1 on the year. The first win is always the toughest. It almost feels like a couple of W’s, to be honest with you. I’m gonna grab a taste of the bourbon I hide out back behind my shed now that the old lady’s passed out.
Things keep up like this and I might just take that ponytailed dweeb up on his free furniture deal over at Jordan’s.
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