'Tis the Season

It's Wednesday evening, and I just checked tomorrow's weather.

Tomorrow (which is to say, today), it'll start out in the 50's and raining, but with each hour, the temps will drop a degree or two. By 1 p.m., it's forecast to be 47 and raining. By 2 p.m., it will still be 47, but the rain should have stopped and been replaced by cloudy.

Cold. Rainy. Cloudy. Typical Opening Day for the Boston Red Sox.

Other than the fact that, rather than playing to a full house, there'll be 4,500 fans shivering in the stands. 

This will be the first time that there'll be anyone other than cardboard cutouts watching since September 29, 2019, when the Olde Towne Team closed out a miserable, lackluster season with a win against the Orioles. I was at that game. When I got the tickets during the prior winter, the Sox were coming off an amazing year in which they won 108 games and went on to beat the loathsome Dodgers in the World Series. So I was hopeful that being at the last regular season game might be a fun thing. It was not.

In 2019, the Sox were out of it, finishing third in the AL East, with a winning percentage of .519. 

As if that weren't depressing enough, we were facing the likelihood that we would be seeing the last of our darling Mookie Betts in a Red Sox uniform. Which we were. He left to join the loathsome Dodgers. Hiss boo.

The loss of Mookie turned out not to be the worst part of the 2020 season. 

Covid shut things down for a good log while, and then shut fans out. Despite their rotten 2019 season, despite the not unanticipated yet still mournful loss of Mookie, I had tickets for a few games that ended up being refunded. I watched a few games, but not with my usual fervor. It's not just that the team was awful, which they were. (They ended up last in the AL East, with a winning percentage of .400, which handily translates into a losing percentage of .600: their worst since 1965, when they closed out the season with a .383 record.) It's that watching games when there are no fans in the stands is hard, wicked hahd as we say around here, even with the fake crowd noise. 

I'm someone who usually catches a few innings of every game. Not last year. Too much of a suckfest. Plus I needed to concentrate on making myself crazy by watching MSNBC 24/7 and worrying about whether Trump could possibly be re-elected. 

To make baseball matters even worse, the loathsome Dodgers (now featuring Mookie Betts who will likely go into the Hall of Fame wearing loathsome Dodger Blue (Pantone 294) rather than a Red Sox Navy (Pantone 289) cap with a Red Sox Red (Pantone 186) B on it. (And, yes, I know that the Hall of Fame plaques are bronze, not colored. But still...)

Over the winter, the Red Sox shed three of the players who, despite all, I rather liked or at least could pick out of a lineup (baseball, not police): Andrew Benintendi and Jackie Bradley, Jr. were traded.  And Dustin Pedroia, a long-time stalwart and fan fave who's spent most of the last few years out with injuries, finally hung up his spikes and retired. 

Yes, I do know a couple of players on this year's team, but who's on first? Probably Bobby Dalbec, whoever he is.

And, despite 2019, which I hold him in large part responsible for, I do like Manager Alex Cora, who was at the helm during the brilliant 2018 edition, and who had a timeout from baseball last season thanks to his involvement in a signal stealing controversy when he was a coach with the Astros. Anyway, he's back, and I wish him and the new Olde Towne Team well. 

I will be watching the opening ceremonies, even though there won't be any big exciting World Series flag raising this year. Or even a paltry little divisional win pennant to wave. I will be watching the first pitch, happy that I'm sitting in my nice warm home sipping a cup of cocoa, rather than scurrying around the underbelly of Fenway blowing on my hands and looking for a Dunkin that's not out of cocoa. I will be watching most of the game with at least half an eye. 

It doesn't have to be a great season.

I grew up rooting for some god-awful Red Sox teams. Having now experienced four World Series Championships since 2004, I certainly don't feel they owe me one every season. But I hope it's a respectable season. I hope they're interesting, that they play with heart, with grit.

And I hope I get out to Fenway for at least one game. 

I'm not ready yet. And I certainly have no interested in sitting in the dews and damps of Fenway when it's in the 40's and the rain has just stopped. But there's nothing like baseball in person. Actually, there's nothing like baseball not in person, either.

Sweet Caroline, let's play ball!