My dad called me today. He's in Kansas City on business. "I'm watching Pardon the Interruption," he said, "And they just showed on the screen here Renteria traded to the Braves?!?!?"
"Yep." I said.
"My boy Edgar!" he cried. "What'd we trade him for if we traded away that kid from Portland?!?"
"I don't know," I said. "We've got about fourteen third basemen now...
I went through the whole litany I wrote in the last post about my apathy and the connection with the Theo station (of course, when a song by System of a Down, a band I absolutely cannot stand for even a second, came on the radio on the commute home tonight, I switched the channel, and finding nothing on the FM options, came to rest on WEEI just in time for the Whiner Line and just in time to hear the conspiracy theory that Theo is actually still managing the Boston Red Sox).
"Yeah, I suppose," he said, sounding defeated.
"You know, everyone's worried about Mirabelli, and who's going to catch Wake," I said. "But some other people are saying it was actually a great deal for the Sox, because--"
"Wait a minute," my dad nearly hollered. "What about Mirabelli?"
I have to say that in a strange way, it was a sweet moment. My dad had called from hundreds of miles away to Discuss This Matter of Red Sox Importance. Because they are still so important to us. So important that I doubt the intensity of our conversation would've been much different if I'd been giving him updates on a matter of national security. That still counts for something, in my book.
I've looked at the Marlins this winter and wondered what it would be like to be a fan of a team that is offloading pretty much every big name player, and I've come to the conclusion that I could live with it. New faces coming along - whether cut-rate wholesale or in expensive dribs and drabs - is an integral part of baseball, and in amongst those new faces there are players we will come to know and love. They might or might not bring another championship to Boston, but that's beside the point - what matters is that they will be our guys, and we will live and die with them as long as they wear the uniform...
I'm not trying to hold myself above anyone getting caught up in the Hot Stove right now, getting angry, getting frustrated, getting worried. I understand that's as much a part of baseball in Boston as anything that actually happens on the field. In a way, it's because of the passion and fervor and attention to detail being paid by many of my fellow fans right now that I'm afforded the opportunity to just try to relax and wait and see what happens, knowing our voice will be heard because of all the fellow fans being vocal.
So I respect it, immensely, but for the sake of my sanity, I am trying very hard not to be a part of it. This is just me--essentially, if I want to still be updating this blog come Spring Training, I can't give myself a stroke about every rumor that Nomar will come back to Boston or Theo conspiracy theories right now. I just don't have it in me. I'd be in a strait jacket already if I kept it up.
If that makes me less of a fan, I'll just have to live with that.