Ah, the excruciating irony of that little catchphrase grows by the minute. Remember when I said every win was now costing us a player? Well, the price of continuing this season just apparently went up: every great individual play is now costing us a player.
(Only place I've been able to find video is on the official site, with, of course, no permalink available. So go to www.redsox.com (for the next day or so only, rendering this post quickly obsolete) and go to the video thingy, and click on #2.)
Meanwhile, the Nation continues to hold its breath, waiting for the soul of the team to be restored.
Remy's reporting on all this sounds like he's doing aftermath analysis on a national disaster. "When you get hit with news like that, and when it also just happened a week ago..."
Even if I believed God existed, I wouldn't believe that He cared too much about baseball. But I wish there was some higher power to appeal to for intercession right now--even just the asking and believing it would have some effect on the situation would make me feel better, I would imagine. I'd been managing to keep my cool to a point this year, but it's rapidly becoming undeniably painful.
Big Papi's situation is, of course, the chief and foremost reason for why this season's starting to get me down. But as crazy as it sounds, it's also because when the Red Sox are doing well, while it doesn't actually change anything in my life that might be wrong, it colors how I feel. It isn't so much that the latest bad news has me depressed--I haven't lost all sense of perspective--but that I miss the rush of following the team with a big, exhilarating future ahead of it, what people in Detroit and Los Angeles and, terrible as it is to have to admit, New York are feeling right now. I miss the euphoria. For the first time in four years, the center of the baseball universe has shifted away from the East Coast, though I truly don't begrudge the fans in Chicago or Minnesota or Oakland what's going on where they are, either.
But I will be sure to have a use for those pure little moments of happiness at the end of my day, whenever they decide to come back around.