It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. On his recent trip through the Balkans, Jose, never much of a linguist, only managed to pick up only a few words of Albanian. He learned that “po” means “yes” and that “yo” means “no.” (Note: Do Albanians think that Rocky ended with Balboa rejecting dumping his wife with the phrase “Yo, Adrian?” What about Yo MTV Raps? Did they think it was a show protesting the evils of rap music?) The only other words he learned were “Katastrophe,” “catastrophe” in English, which is quite useful in describing the Sox recent performance, and “boston” which means “watermelon.”
Boston does not mean watermelon in all Albanian dialects, just in the Kosovo dialect. Apparently, it also means watermelon in Serbo-Croatian. The term is said to originate from Turkish. Jose found this discovery a bit ironic, as this year’s Boston baseball club has born an uncanny resemblance to the juicy red melon. Much like a watermelon, the Boston Red Sox look from the outside quite substantial, but when one really presses the contents, one discovers that much of the substance of the team, much of what looked so solid, disappears and all that remains is a pulpy red mess.
Jose assume that if Boston is a word for a fruit in Kosovo Albanian, our other rivals’ city names must also mean some sort of fruit. Jose hasn’t looked it up or anything, but he has a few guesses.
New York, Jose presumes, is Albanian for pomegranate, and like the pomegranate, the New York club is excessively expensive, decadent, mostly made from useless material (note: seeds, Jason Giambi, same thing) and when one looks inside, deeply divided.
Baltimore is Albanian for coconut. At first it doesn’t look like it’s going to be any good, but then you crack it open, sample it and discover that it’s a lot better than you expected. Then it gives you the trots, and you realize that maybe it wasn’t so good after all.
Toronto is Albanian for star fruit. Every time you see it, it looks intriguing and even though it was bad the last time you tried it, you think maybe this time it will be different, maybe this time it will be good. It is not, and neither are the Blue Jays.
Tampa Bay is Albanian for moldy, rotten, foul smelling oranges. They look bad, they smell bad and they only get worse with time.
Yes, Jose knows that comparing American League East teams to fruit is absurd, pointless and frustrating, but so is talking about the Red Sox, so fruit it is.
For the complete KEYS visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
Tuesday, July 19
Monday, July 18
7/18/05 – Jose returns from DL
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. After an unprecedented 20 days on the disabled list, Jose returns to action today. He rejoins a Red Sox team that has lost five out of six against division rivals and badly needs his assistance. But will he be the same Jose as before his injury? The early results are discouraging.
While Jose professes to feel better than ever, he has not looked sharp in side sessions or simulated games thus far. His grammar has been a little shaky, his quips lackluster and his spelling, never one of his strong suits, has been abysmal. Since he has not yet looked like his old self, there has been some discussion that management, rather than asking Jose to write full KEYS, will have him write relief KEYS for a while, in other words, letting someone else write the first KEY or two and then coming in to write the third KEY if the game looks close coming down the stretch. There are even some rumors that Jose was the first to suggest this approach.
While Jose has offered to do anything that will help the team, some Red Sox have suggested that the idea is foolish at best.
When asked to comment on the situation (note: or even when not asked to comment on the situation) centerfielder Johnny Damon said, “You’ve got a lot of upset people in here. I don’t think he’s ready to be our closer. I think SoSHers like kevlog or Nuf Ced are the choice as the closer. I mean, not only does Jose not have long luxurious hair like me, he’s also not even really Mexican. By the way, did I mention that I love seeing my name in the paper. Not that I can read or anything, but I just like people telling me it’s there.”
Added first baseman Kevin Millar, “If you try to take my starting job away from me, I’ll cut you.”
Also at issue, is Jose’s rehabilitation routine. Rather than go to team physicians, Jose is rumored to have sought care in the Balkans, undertaking a course of treatment that was said to include drinking no fewer that 15 tiny cups of macchiato every day, while fending off questions as to why he did not know that former Albanian Prime Minister Fan Noli is buried in Boston.
Jose would like to address these rumors directly. Yes, he was in the Balkans, but not for himself, for the good of the team. How is it for the good of the team? Well, if studying strategies for bringing a lasting peace to one of the world’s most unstable regions isn’t important to the Red Sox, Jose doesn’t know what is. Do you really think the Red Sox can be successful without successful final status negotiations in Kosovo, a complete implementation of the Ohrid Framework agreement in Macedonia and a dramatic decrease in corruption in Albania? Let us not forget that Ted Williams missed what would have been some of his best seasons fighting in World War II, which was a direct consequence of World War I which started in, you guessed it, the Balkans. So unless you want John Papelbon to end up in the U.S. Air Force right when he’s coming into his prime, cut Jose some slack.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com/index.php?p=422
1. After an unprecedented 20 days on the disabled list, Jose returns to action today. He rejoins a Red Sox team that has lost five out of six against division rivals and badly needs his assistance. But will he be the same Jose as before his injury? The early results are discouraging.
While Jose professes to feel better than ever, he has not looked sharp in side sessions or simulated games thus far. His grammar has been a little shaky, his quips lackluster and his spelling, never one of his strong suits, has been abysmal. Since he has not yet looked like his old self, there has been some discussion that management, rather than asking Jose to write full KEYS, will have him write relief KEYS for a while, in other words, letting someone else write the first KEY or two and then coming in to write the third KEY if the game looks close coming down the stretch. There are even some rumors that Jose was the first to suggest this approach.
While Jose has offered to do anything that will help the team, some Red Sox have suggested that the idea is foolish at best.
When asked to comment on the situation (note: or even when not asked to comment on the situation) centerfielder Johnny Damon said, “You’ve got a lot of upset people in here. I don’t think he’s ready to be our closer. I think SoSHers like kevlog or Nuf Ced are the choice as the closer. I mean, not only does Jose not have long luxurious hair like me, he’s also not even really Mexican. By the way, did I mention that I love seeing my name in the paper. Not that I can read or anything, but I just like people telling me it’s there.”
Added first baseman Kevin Millar, “If you try to take my starting job away from me, I’ll cut you.”
Also at issue, is Jose’s rehabilitation routine. Rather than go to team physicians, Jose is rumored to have sought care in the Balkans, undertaking a course of treatment that was said to include drinking no fewer that 15 tiny cups of macchiato every day, while fending off questions as to why he did not know that former Albanian Prime Minister Fan Noli is buried in Boston.
Jose would like to address these rumors directly. Yes, he was in the Balkans, but not for himself, for the good of the team. How is it for the good of the team? Well, if studying strategies for bringing a lasting peace to one of the world’s most unstable regions isn’t important to the Red Sox, Jose doesn’t know what is. Do you really think the Red Sox can be successful without successful final status negotiations in Kosovo, a complete implementation of the Ohrid Framework agreement in Macedonia and a dramatic decrease in corruption in Albania? Let us not forget that Ted Williams missed what would have been some of his best seasons fighting in World War II, which was a direct consequence of World War I which started in, you guessed it, the Balkans. So unless you want John Papelbon to end up in the U.S. Air Force right when he’s coming into his prime, cut Jose some slack.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com/index.php?p=422
Tuesday, June 28
6/28/05 – SKELETON KEYS TO THE GAME
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s SKELETON KEYS TO THE GAME.
Just like his idol Pedro Martinez, Jose is preparing to take a midsummer’s trip to the 15-day DL. Is he hurt? Is he on vacation? Who knows? Is he leaving his team in the lurch? Nope. In order to ensure that there is at least the possibility of KEYS during Jose’s DL stint, Jose has created the SKELETON KEYS TO THE GAME, or as he prefers to call it “A gimmick that in no way infringes on Madlibs’ trademark.
Here’s how it works. Jose is posting a set of generic “skeleton” KEYS below that should be more or less valid for any game. Each game day, another of Jose’s readers can fill in the [BRACKETED WORDS]. If you’re a SoSHer post it in the game thread, if not post it as a comment in http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com (note: the wallballsingle.com link is down for some reason, but it should be up again soon) or email Jose at keystothegame@hotmail.com, and Jose will post it himself when he returns. Or don’t… whatever. Like Jose cares.
So here it goes.
It’s time for [OBSCURE RED SOX PLAYER]’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Well, last night’s game was [ADJECTIVE]. Sure, the Sox [OUTCOME OF GAME], but what [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] really wants to talk about is the performance of [CURRENT RED SOX PLAYER]. He is [BASEBALL ACTIVITY] unbelievably [ADVERB] right now. How [SAME ADVERB] is he playing? [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] hasn’t seen a professional athlete perform like this since [PRO WRESLTER] in [YEAR].
The question is, why is he playing so [SAME ADVERB]? Was he bitten by a radioactive and/or genetically modified [ANIMAL OR CARNIVOROUS PLANT]? Is it possible he was struck by a [NOUN]? Or should we apply Occam’s [TOILERTY] and assume that he is simply a very [ADJECTIVE] baseball player.
Whatever the reason, [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] would like to make a prediction. If [SAME CURRENT SOX PLAYER] keeps playing like this, Terry Eurona will have to [VERB] him or he will be the [ADJECTIVE] Red Sox manager since [PREVIOUS SOX MANAGER].
2. [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] knows that this space is dedicated to following the Red Sox, not the Yankees, but they are such [PLURAL NOUN] that sometimes he can’t help but [VERB] about them. Today [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] feels compelled to [VERB] [NAME OF YANKEE, PLAYER, COACH, OWNER OR EMPLOYEE].
Let [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] be [ADJECTIVE], that guy’s a [NOUN]. How big of a [SAME NOUN] is he? Well, let’s put it this way, if he was a super villain he would be [SUPER VILLAIN], but without the [NOUN]. Not only does he make like [NUMBER] [CURRENCY] per year, his [STATISTICAL CATEGORY] numbers are lousy. He’s only at [NUMBER] this year. Big deal.
How much does he [ADJECTIVE]? [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] would rather have [CRAPPY RED SOX INFIELDER FROM HISTORY] than this guy, and [SAME INFIELDER] be lucky to have [NUMBER] [STASTICAL CATEGORY] if everything went right for him.
3. And on a final note, congratulations to [RED SOX PLAYER, COACH, EMPLOYEE OR OWNER] on his [BASEBALL ACCOMPLISHMENT OR LIFE EVENT] yesterday. There are a lot of [ADJECTIVE] people in baseball, so it’s nice to see one of the [ADJECTIVE] guys get what’s coming to him. [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] only wishes that the [ADJECTIVE] reporters in this town would stop being such [PLURAL NOUN] and give this sort of thing the coverage that it so [ADVERB] deserves.
I’m [FULL NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] and those are me KEYS TO THE GAME.
So that should give you something to tide you over while Jose is drinking cold beer and… err.. undergoing intensive physical therapy and rehab.
I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my SKELETON KEYS TO THE GAME.
For complete KEYS visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
Just like his idol Pedro Martinez, Jose is preparing to take a midsummer’s trip to the 15-day DL. Is he hurt? Is he on vacation? Who knows? Is he leaving his team in the lurch? Nope. In order to ensure that there is at least the possibility of KEYS during Jose’s DL stint, Jose has created the SKELETON KEYS TO THE GAME, or as he prefers to call it “A gimmick that in no way infringes on Madlibs’ trademark.
Here’s how it works. Jose is posting a set of generic “skeleton” KEYS below that should be more or less valid for any game. Each game day, another of Jose’s readers can fill in the [BRACKETED WORDS]. If you’re a SoSHer post it in the game thread, if not post it as a comment in http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com (note: the wallballsingle.com link is down for some reason, but it should be up again soon) or email Jose at keystothegame@hotmail.com, and Jose will post it himself when he returns. Or don’t… whatever. Like Jose cares.
So here it goes.
It’s time for [OBSCURE RED SOX PLAYER]’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Well, last night’s game was [ADJECTIVE]. Sure, the Sox [OUTCOME OF GAME], but what [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] really wants to talk about is the performance of [CURRENT RED SOX PLAYER]. He is [BASEBALL ACTIVITY] unbelievably [ADVERB] right now. How [SAME ADVERB] is he playing? [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] hasn’t seen a professional athlete perform like this since [PRO WRESLTER] in [YEAR].
The question is, why is he playing so [SAME ADVERB]? Was he bitten by a radioactive and/or genetically modified [ANIMAL OR CARNIVOROUS PLANT]? Is it possible he was struck by a [NOUN]? Or should we apply Occam’s [TOILERTY] and assume that he is simply a very [ADJECTIVE] baseball player.
Whatever the reason, [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] would like to make a prediction. If [SAME CURRENT SOX PLAYER] keeps playing like this, Terry Eurona will have to [VERB] him or he will be the [ADJECTIVE] Red Sox manager since [PREVIOUS SOX MANAGER].
2. [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] knows that this space is dedicated to following the Red Sox, not the Yankees, but they are such [PLURAL NOUN] that sometimes he can’t help but [VERB] about them. Today [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] feels compelled to [VERB] [NAME OF YANKEE, PLAYER, COACH, OWNER OR EMPLOYEE].
Let [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] be [ADJECTIVE], that guy’s a [NOUN]. How big of a [SAME NOUN] is he? Well, let’s put it this way, if he was a super villain he would be [SUPER VILLAIN], but without the [NOUN]. Not only does he make like [NUMBER] [CURRENCY] per year, his [STATISTICAL CATEGORY] numbers are lousy. He’s only at [NUMBER] this year. Big deal.
How much does he [ADJECTIVE]? [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] would rather have [CRAPPY RED SOX INFIELDER FROM HISTORY] than this guy, and [SAME INFIELDER] be lucky to have [NUMBER] [STASTICAL CATEGORY] if everything went right for him.
3. And on a final note, congratulations to [RED SOX PLAYER, COACH, EMPLOYEE OR OWNER] on his [BASEBALL ACCOMPLISHMENT OR LIFE EVENT] yesterday. There are a lot of [ADJECTIVE] people in baseball, so it’s nice to see one of the [ADJECTIVE] guys get what’s coming to him. [FIRST NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] only wishes that the [ADJECTIVE] reporters in this town would stop being such [PLURAL NOUN] and give this sort of thing the coverage that it so [ADVERB] deserves.
I’m [FULL NAME OF SAME OBSCURE PLAYER] and those are me KEYS TO THE GAME.
So that should give you something to tide you over while Jose is drinking cold beer and… err.. undergoing intensive physical therapy and rehab.
I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my SKELETON KEYS TO THE GAME.
For complete KEYS visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
Monday, June 27
6/27/05 – Balki vs. Millwood
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Wow. The Sox went 6-0 on the road trip. That’s really good. In fact, it’s their best road trip since they had a 9-0 west coast swing in 1977. How good were the Sox on the road last week? Well, let’s put it this way; the city of Lowell is reportedly planning on building a tribute to this road trip right next to the statue of Jack Kerouac.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
1. Wow. The Sox went 6-0 on the road trip. That’s really good. In fact, it’s their best road trip since they had a 9-0 west coast swing in 1977. How good were the Sox on the road last week? Well, let’s put it this way; the city of Lowell is reportedly planning on building a tribute to this road trip right next to the statue of Jack Kerouac.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
Friday, June 24
6/24/05 – Sox visit Royal Bank of Scotland Ballpark
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Two years ago, the Red Sox made their last visit to Philadelphia and Grady Little made the decision that should have ended his managerial career. In the late innings of a game wherein the Red Sox blew three saves, the bumbling manager waited until after lefty slugger Jim Thome had hit a game tying homer to bring in lefty reliever Alan Embree even though Embree was already warm when Thome came to the plate. You know the details, so Jose will not bother to review them, unless of course, you blocked it out, in which case Jose will not do you the disservice of reminding you. Suffice it to say, the Philly Phanatic came off looking thoughtful and dignified in comparison with Grady that day.
Red Sox principal owner John W. Henry was rumored to be so upset with Grady’s non-move that he wanted to fire him on the spot. His co-owners and general manager thought better of it, however, and talked him out of making such a rash decision. Whoops. So instead of Little’s career being ended by a foolish decision in Philadelphia, it was ended by an even more foolish decision in New York three months later.
And now, as the Red Sox return to Philadelphia with a World Championship under their belt, Jose wonders what, if anything, current Sox manager Terry Eurona could do this weekend that might match Grady’s mistake two years ago and raise such ire in John W. Henry.
• Let Jason Shiell pitch to Thome just like Grady did. If Jason Shiell was on the roster maybe this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But for Tito to let Shiell pitch to Thome, he would have to acquire Shiell by usurping the power of GM Theo Epstein. Launching a coup seems like it might be grounds for dismissal.
• Bring Alan Embree to pitch to Jim Thome. What a difference two years makes. Okay, maybe doing this wouldn’t make Henry want to fire Tito, but Jose can assure you that at no point in this series will he be screaming “bring in Embree” like he did two years ago.
• Urinate on the Liberty Bell. That’s about as offensive and senseless as Grady’s moves two years ago. Of course, as a championship manager, Tito could probably get away with it.
Hmm… maybe there’s nothing Tito could do that would be as bad. Still, one does have to imagine he’ll be put to the test this weekend. Eurona is not a beloved figure in Philadelphia where he managed for four unsuccessful seasons. According to the Boston Globe, he had to park in different places every day out of fear for his safety, and when he returned as a scout, he had a security detail attached to him.
Jose imagines that the fact that he is now a World Series champion will only serve to further antagonize the Philadelphia hooligans. But Jose thinks that rather than ignoring it Tito should embrace it. When he is introduced tonight and the boos rain down, he should take a page from the late wrestling legend “Ravishing” Rick Rude and say “What I’d like right now is for all of you fat, ugly Philadelphia farm animals to keep the noise down while I put on my championship ring so the ladies can see what a real manager looks like.
They’re going to hate him either way, so he might as well get some shots in.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
1. Two years ago, the Red Sox made their last visit to Philadelphia and Grady Little made the decision that should have ended his managerial career. In the late innings of a game wherein the Red Sox blew three saves, the bumbling manager waited until after lefty slugger Jim Thome had hit a game tying homer to bring in lefty reliever Alan Embree even though Embree was already warm when Thome came to the plate. You know the details, so Jose will not bother to review them, unless of course, you blocked it out, in which case Jose will not do you the disservice of reminding you. Suffice it to say, the Philly Phanatic came off looking thoughtful and dignified in comparison with Grady that day.
Red Sox principal owner John W. Henry was rumored to be so upset with Grady’s non-move that he wanted to fire him on the spot. His co-owners and general manager thought better of it, however, and talked him out of making such a rash decision. Whoops. So instead of Little’s career being ended by a foolish decision in Philadelphia, it was ended by an even more foolish decision in New York three months later.
And now, as the Red Sox return to Philadelphia with a World Championship under their belt, Jose wonders what, if anything, current Sox manager Terry Eurona could do this weekend that might match Grady’s mistake two years ago and raise such ire in John W. Henry.
• Let Jason Shiell pitch to Thome just like Grady did. If Jason Shiell was on the roster maybe this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But for Tito to let Shiell pitch to Thome, he would have to acquire Shiell by usurping the power of GM Theo Epstein. Launching a coup seems like it might be grounds for dismissal.
• Bring Alan Embree to pitch to Jim Thome. What a difference two years makes. Okay, maybe doing this wouldn’t make Henry want to fire Tito, but Jose can assure you that at no point in this series will he be screaming “bring in Embree” like he did two years ago.
• Urinate on the Liberty Bell. That’s about as offensive and senseless as Grady’s moves two years ago. Of course, as a championship manager, Tito could probably get away with it.
Hmm… maybe there’s nothing Tito could do that would be as bad. Still, one does have to imagine he’ll be put to the test this weekend. Eurona is not a beloved figure in Philadelphia where he managed for four unsuccessful seasons. According to the Boston Globe, he had to park in different places every day out of fear for his safety, and when he returned as a scout, he had a security detail attached to him.
Jose imagines that the fact that he is now a World Series champion will only serve to further antagonize the Philadelphia hooligans. But Jose thinks that rather than ignoring it Tito should embrace it. When he is introduced tonight and the boos rain down, he should take a page from the late wrestling legend “Ravishing” Rick Rude and say “What I’d like right now is for all of you fat, ugly Philadelphia farm animals to keep the noise down while I put on my championship ring so the ladies can see what a real manager looks like.
They’re going to hate him either way, so he might as well get some shots in.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
Tuesday, June 21
6/21/05 – Balki vs. Millwood
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Boston Herald beat writer Jeff Horrigan characterized Sox starter David Wells as putting in “five workman like innings” last night. Since he defined four runs over five innings on what felt like 170 pitches as “workmanlike,” Jose suspects that every borderline incompetent, crooked, or just plain sloppy contractor in greater Boston will be calling Horrigan today to offer great rates on home repairs.
And I’m willing to give you a special price. I’ll do this work for you for only $4 million per year for each of the next two years… plus incentives. What kind of incentives? Well, I can get up to an additional $5 million per year, depending on how often I show up to work on the house. How’s that sound to you? Do we have a deal? We do? That’s terrific… I’ll be over next week and will start putting in a workmanlike effort every fifth day.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
1. Boston Herald beat writer Jeff Horrigan characterized Sox starter David Wells as putting in “five workman like innings” last night. Since he defined four runs over five innings on what felt like 170 pitches as “workmanlike,” Jose suspects that every borderline incompetent, crooked, or just plain sloppy contractor in greater Boston will be calling Horrigan today to offer great rates on home repairs.
Hi, Mr. Horrigan? My name John Smith. I’m a general contractor, and I’d
like to do some work on your home. What can I do for you? Well, what do you
need? I can have some nice new recessed lighting installed for you. Now, I can’t
promise that the lights are going to work most of the time, but I’m almost
certain that you won’t get electrocuted.
Flooring? Well, I’ll tell you what, a lot of people will tell you that
hardwood flooring is the way to go, but me, I think balsa wood is a more
efficient alternative. After all, the purpose is to cover up the dirt or
concrete or what have you, and balsa will do that just as well as any maple or
oak, plus you can make model airplanes out of your floor if you get bored.
And you want a gas hook up? Sure I can do that for you. But let me tell
you a little secret. Yes, you’re going to smell a little bit of gas, but as long
as you keep the windows open at all times, it’s no problem. Sounds great,
doesn’t it?
And I’m willing to give you a special price. I’ll do this work for you for only $4 million per year for each of the next two years… plus incentives. What kind of incentives? Well, I can get up to an additional $5 million per year, depending on how often I show up to work on the house. How’s that sound to you? Do we have a deal? We do? That’s terrific… I’ll be over next week and will start putting in a workmanlike effort every fifth day.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
Monday, June 20
6/20/05 – Sox vs. The Cleveland South Asians
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. When the Red Sox won their first World Series in 86 years last October, countless commentators, pundits and drunks form around the country speculated that baseball would be ruined for Red Sox fans. They prognosticated that the chase, as long and frustrating as it was, would prove far more enjoyable than the actual catch. They were idiots of course, winning is fantastic. It’s better than fantastic, it’s transcendent. Since Foulke tossed the ball to Mientkiewiecz, every day has been a holiday.
Sure there is pleasure to be found in pursuit, and being unfulfilled drives men to devotion, to action and accomplishment, but did we as human beings, not as Red Sox fans, truly need to have the pursuit of an elusive championship as the motivating force in our lives? No, of course not. Each and every member of Red Sox nation has his own disappointments, his own failures that drive him, that haunt him; he doesn’t need 25 strangers to provide him with existential angst.
With his goal of seeing a Red Sox championship met, Jose has been able to focus on the other great unfulfilled goal in his life. When Jose was in kindergarten many moons ago, he was one of the two hot shot readers in his class. The fame, the notoriety… it was brilliant. Jose and his friend Mark both plowed trough the 53 volumes of the “I See Sam” series of readers. (Note: These were either about the adventures of a friendly lion and his animal friends or the adventures of Sammy Sosa and his animal friends, Jose can’t remember which.) Jose and Mark then moved on to the “Monster Books,” a series of readers for superstars that told the story of a little boy and his friend, a big purple monster. Jose flew though the books and found himself with two weeks left in the school year, and one book to go, “Monster Meets Lady Monster.” Then things fell apart. Some punk kid in the other kindergarten class had “Monster Meets Lady Monster” at home, and had not brought it back.
Each day Jose and Mark would go into school and ask “Is Monster Meets Lady Monster In? Is it? Is it?” But the answer was always no. Well, it was always no until the penultimate day of the school year, when the book made its triumphant return. Bu there was a problem, as any story demands. Only one of us could take it home. The tiebreaker, and the book went to Mark, as he was on his second year of kindergarten. So Jose went home bookless, dejected, shattered, wondering if his day would ever come. His impossible dream season had ended one book short of his goal.
Jose went back to the same elementary school the next year, but he couldn’t stand to go ask if he could read “Monster Meets Lady Monster.” It wouldn’t have been the same. He would have felt the same way the Yankees felt winning the 2005 season opener over the Red Sox after bowing in seven games in the ALCS the year before – sort of happy, but ultimately even more aware of the previous year’s failures.
As the years drifted on, Jose tried to put the little paperback book out of his mind and focus on bigger books like Clifford the Big Red Dog, Curious George and the Brothers Karamazov, but the fact that he had fallen one book short continued to gnaw at him.
The book continued to haunt Jose, keeping him from being the truly great reader he could have been. He never had a single year where he read every book assigned to him, not in middle school, not in high school, not even at Boston University. Some reporters even began speculating that perhaps there was a “Curse of ‘Monster Meets Lady Monster.’” They asked publicly if the big purple monster wasn’t haunting Jose. Jose knew there was no curse, there was no evidence of a curse, but the questions were like a tick burrowing under Jose’s skin and into his psyche.
Jose’s mother asked the school if they still had the book when he graduated from high school, she thought it would be a nice surprise, but the school said they had stopped using those books in 1984 or so. No luck.
Then when the Internet took off, Jose thought that perhaps it could bring him the elusive book. The Internet confirmed that the book existed, that it wasn’t some phantasm that materialized from his addled mind, but it offered no copies. Finally, last week, Jose discovered a copy at a used book store for $4.50 on amazon.com. Jose placed his order immediately.
Jose tried to contain his excitement. He had been down this road before, where victory, which seemed certain in one moment, vanished into the ether in the next. The box arrived. The tension was immense. Jose dropped to his knees as if in prayer, folded his hands, crossed his fingers and began to open the box. As it turned out, it is extremely hard to open a well-taped box while one’s fingers are crossed and hands are folded, so Jose got a knife. He carefully cut the scotch tape, peeled back the paper and stared down on a genuine copy of “Monster Meets Lady Monster” written by Ellen Blance and Ann Cook and illustrated by Quentin Blake in 1973.
Jose sat down with the Melendezette, and he read the book aloud to her, just as he would have read it 23 years before if not for the greed and/or sloth of that kid in the other class. It was euphoric. Charlie Brown finally kicked the football, Don Quixote had fought actual giants, Jose Melendez had completed a series of kindergarten readers!!!
But that was two days ago. It is in the past, which as St. Augustine reminds us, does not exist, it only used to exist. What now, Jose asks himself? What now? Reading doesn’t feel the same anymore. For 23 years, Jose had remained literate for no reason other than being able to read “Monster Meets Lady Monster” should the opportunity ever arise. Now that he’s done it, what’s the point? Why should he bother reading now? What does it even matter if he’s literate. It’s not like reading is any fun any more, or that he can learn anything from it. Now that the goal is accomplished ,the process, the tools that it took to accomplish that goal, are moot.
So now Jose is stuck. He is illiterate since he read “Monster Meets Lady Monster,” and he hates watching baseball since the Red Sox won the World Series. What else is there to do? Perhaps he can fixate on the fact that he got cut from little league in 1987 and try to make an American Legion baseball team. But why bother? Even if he succeeds he’ll probably just lose interest in playing baseball and lose his ability to hit. Of course, if he lost all ability to hit, that would leave him pretty much where he is now, so no biggie.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
1. When the Red Sox won their first World Series in 86 years last October, countless commentators, pundits and drunks form around the country speculated that baseball would be ruined for Red Sox fans. They prognosticated that the chase, as long and frustrating as it was, would prove far more enjoyable than the actual catch. They were idiots of course, winning is fantastic. It’s better than fantastic, it’s transcendent. Since Foulke tossed the ball to Mientkiewiecz, every day has been a holiday.
Sure there is pleasure to be found in pursuit, and being unfulfilled drives men to devotion, to action and accomplishment, but did we as human beings, not as Red Sox fans, truly need to have the pursuit of an elusive championship as the motivating force in our lives? No, of course not. Each and every member of Red Sox nation has his own disappointments, his own failures that drive him, that haunt him; he doesn’t need 25 strangers to provide him with existential angst.
With his goal of seeing a Red Sox championship met, Jose has been able to focus on the other great unfulfilled goal in his life. When Jose was in kindergarten many moons ago, he was one of the two hot shot readers in his class. The fame, the notoriety… it was brilliant. Jose and his friend Mark both plowed trough the 53 volumes of the “I See Sam” series of readers. (Note: These were either about the adventures of a friendly lion and his animal friends or the adventures of Sammy Sosa and his animal friends, Jose can’t remember which.) Jose and Mark then moved on to the “Monster Books,” a series of readers for superstars that told the story of a little boy and his friend, a big purple monster. Jose flew though the books and found himself with two weeks left in the school year, and one book to go, “Monster Meets Lady Monster.” Then things fell apart. Some punk kid in the other kindergarten class had “Monster Meets Lady Monster” at home, and had not brought it back.
Each day Jose and Mark would go into school and ask “Is Monster Meets Lady Monster In? Is it? Is it?” But the answer was always no. Well, it was always no until the penultimate day of the school year, when the book made its triumphant return. Bu there was a problem, as any story demands. Only one of us could take it home. The tiebreaker, and the book went to Mark, as he was on his second year of kindergarten. So Jose went home bookless, dejected, shattered, wondering if his day would ever come. His impossible dream season had ended one book short of his goal.
Jose went back to the same elementary school the next year, but he couldn’t stand to go ask if he could read “Monster Meets Lady Monster.” It wouldn’t have been the same. He would have felt the same way the Yankees felt winning the 2005 season opener over the Red Sox after bowing in seven games in the ALCS the year before – sort of happy, but ultimately even more aware of the previous year’s failures.
As the years drifted on, Jose tried to put the little paperback book out of his mind and focus on bigger books like Clifford the Big Red Dog, Curious George and the Brothers Karamazov, but the fact that he had fallen one book short continued to gnaw at him.
The book continued to haunt Jose, keeping him from being the truly great reader he could have been. He never had a single year where he read every book assigned to him, not in middle school, not in high school, not even at Boston University. Some reporters even began speculating that perhaps there was a “Curse of ‘Monster Meets Lady Monster.’” They asked publicly if the big purple monster wasn’t haunting Jose. Jose knew there was no curse, there was no evidence of a curse, but the questions were like a tick burrowing under Jose’s skin and into his psyche.
Jose’s mother asked the school if they still had the book when he graduated from high school, she thought it would be a nice surprise, but the school said they had stopped using those books in 1984 or so. No luck.
Then when the Internet took off, Jose thought that perhaps it could bring him the elusive book. The Internet confirmed that the book existed, that it wasn’t some phantasm that materialized from his addled mind, but it offered no copies. Finally, last week, Jose discovered a copy at a used book store for $4.50 on amazon.com. Jose placed his order immediately.
Jose tried to contain his excitement. He had been down this road before, where victory, which seemed certain in one moment, vanished into the ether in the next. The box arrived. The tension was immense. Jose dropped to his knees as if in prayer, folded his hands, crossed his fingers and began to open the box. As it turned out, it is extremely hard to open a well-taped box while one’s fingers are crossed and hands are folded, so Jose got a knife. He carefully cut the scotch tape, peeled back the paper and stared down on a genuine copy of “Monster Meets Lady Monster” written by Ellen Blance and Ann Cook and illustrated by Quentin Blake in 1973.
Jose sat down with the Melendezette, and he read the book aloud to her, just as he would have read it 23 years before if not for the greed and/or sloth of that kid in the other class. It was euphoric. Charlie Brown finally kicked the football, Don Quixote had fought actual giants, Jose Melendez had completed a series of kindergarten readers!!!
But that was two days ago. It is in the past, which as St. Augustine reminds us, does not exist, it only used to exist. What now, Jose asks himself? What now? Reading doesn’t feel the same anymore. For 23 years, Jose had remained literate for no reason other than being able to read “Monster Meets Lady Monster” should the opportunity ever arise. Now that he’s done it, what’s the point? Why should he bother reading now? What does it even matter if he’s literate. It’s not like reading is any fun any more, or that he can learn anything from it. Now that the goal is accomplished ,the process, the tools that it took to accomplish that goal, are moot.
So now Jose is stuck. He is illiterate since he read “Monster Meets Lady Monster,” and he hates watching baseball since the Red Sox won the World Series. What else is there to do? Perhaps he can fixate on the fact that he got cut from little league in 1987 and try to make an American Legion baseball team. But why bother? Even if he succeeds he’ll probably just lose interest in playing baseball and lose his ability to hit. Of course, if he lost all ability to hit, that would leave him pretty much where he is now, so no biggie.
For more visit http://redsox.mostvaluablenetwork.com
Friday, June 17
6/17/05 – The Pirates’ 102 year Boston Boycott ends
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
In some ways this is a tough time of year for Jose. Yes, work is slowing down, the weather is warming up and there’s baseball every night, by all reckoning this should be the best time of year, but it isn’t… not for Jose. As the sweet pollen of summer fills the air, as the choking haze overwhelms the ocean breezes, Jose’s sinuses fill with fluid, his throat constricts and breathing becomes a laborious chore. Every day the simple act of inhaling grows more and more difficult. And with each breath Jose gasps for the little air that will sustain him. Actually, Jose in June bares remarkably similarities to the June 2005 edition of the New York Yankees, with the gasping, the struggling, and the just hoping to hang on. Heck, Jose even uses steroids to treat his allergies.
But Jose knows that in time the struggles will cease, that the air will clear and things will resolve themselves. The Yankees do not know this. They cannot wait. If George Steinbrenner had hay fever the last thing that would occur to him would be that it might just go away, or that it could be resolved with a mild course of medication. No, in Geroge’s world hay fever would require radical steps. First he’d yell at it. “I paid good money for this body,” he’d scream. “And I don’t expect it to react to particles of nothing in the air like it’s a genuine threat.” After yelling failed, he’d remove the offending organ, Steinbrenner would chop his nose clean off, in the mistaken notion that removing the symptom will solve the problem. Finally, he would get desperate; he’d panic and make a trade. He’d go directly to the medical encyclopedia and decide that his best option was to trade hay fever for colon cancer. Yes every action would make the problem worse.
And this is where the Yankees are now readying themselves for a dizzying course of ill advised quackery. By the end of the season, Jose fully expects to see A-Rod and Jeter walking around with leeches attached to their skin.
For the complete KEYS visit www.wallballsingle.com
In some ways this is a tough time of year for Jose. Yes, work is slowing down, the weather is warming up and there’s baseball every night, by all reckoning this should be the best time of year, but it isn’t… not for Jose. As the sweet pollen of summer fills the air, as the choking haze overwhelms the ocean breezes, Jose’s sinuses fill with fluid, his throat constricts and breathing becomes a laborious chore. Every day the simple act of inhaling grows more and more difficult. And with each breath Jose gasps for the little air that will sustain him. Actually, Jose in June bares remarkably similarities to the June 2005 edition of the New York Yankees, with the gasping, the struggling, and the just hoping to hang on. Heck, Jose even uses steroids to treat his allergies.
But Jose knows that in time the struggles will cease, that the air will clear and things will resolve themselves. The Yankees do not know this. They cannot wait. If George Steinbrenner had hay fever the last thing that would occur to him would be that it might just go away, or that it could be resolved with a mild course of medication. No, in Geroge’s world hay fever would require radical steps. First he’d yell at it. “I paid good money for this body,” he’d scream. “And I don’t expect it to react to particles of nothing in the air like it’s a genuine threat.” After yelling failed, he’d remove the offending organ, Steinbrenner would chop his nose clean off, in the mistaken notion that removing the symptom will solve the problem. Finally, he would get desperate; he’d panic and make a trade. He’d go directly to the medical encyclopedia and decide that his best option was to trade hay fever for colon cancer. Yes every action would make the problem worse.
And this is where the Yankees are now readying themselves for a dizzying course of ill advised quackery. By the end of the season, Jose fully expects to see A-Rod and Jeter walking around with leeches attached to their skin.
For the complete KEYS visit www.wallballsingle.com
Wednesday, June 15
6/15/05 -- 1975 World SEries Game 10
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. An open letter to Bill Simmons, a.k.a. ESPN.com’s “The Sports Guy.”
Dear Bill,
“I’m Bill Simmons and this is my column.” June 13, 2005, 2:34 p.m. ET
Hmmm... That sounds familiar. Familiar like a Joe Biden term paper. But maybe not dishonest. That can’t have been an accident, can it?
No, you were sending Jose Melendez a message or an enticement. It’s like waving the red flag in front of the proverbial bull, the doughnut in front of the proverbial David Wells or the dollar bill in front of the proverbial Roger Clemens. You used Jose’s meter, his material, his style to get Jose’s attention, to get him to charge at you with his full weight behind him.
But why? Why call Jose out? Why try to show him up in front of the tens, if not dozens of people who would actually understand the message you were trying to send? Was it a taunt? An homage?
The possibility that you are mocking Jose haunts him. You’ve been like a father to Jose, a father he’s never met, spoken with or seen and who would have been like eight years old when Jose was born, but a father nonetheless, and after 28 years of ignoring Jose, this is how you chose to contact him? It’s like you’re Greg Minor. (Note: You have the national audience, you make the Shawn Kemp jokes, Jose is local and will stick obscure Celtics, thank you very much. Besides, Jose has a Greg Minor autograph somewhere and God knows, Minor’s play on the court didn’t make it valuable, so Jose needs to talk him up.)
For so long Jose’s dreamed you would contact him. You know, show up at his office begging for gambling money or a quick fix from the Dunkin’ Donuts next door, but it never happened. Jose even wrote you once or twice, suggesting gags. You remember, don’t you? Jose wrote you suggesting that if Johnny had hit Daniel San with that kick during the skeleton/ Halloween scene, the kick that shattered that sign, he would have killed Daniel and the movie would have been called “The Murder Trial of Johnny Lawrence” rather than “Karate Kid.” Jose knew he couldn’t use it, Karate Kid jokes are your thing, so he sent it to you as a gift, as a sign of respect. But you never answered, and Jose let you drift from his mind... the pain of being ignored was too great.
Just two weeks ago, Jose thought about trying to contact you again. Jose bought 11 unopened packs of Rocky IV trading cards in Rhode Island, and he was going to send you one, because he knows you’d like it. But now? Now Jose is thinking about buying unopened Rocky V trading cards to send you, that’s how agitated he is.
Are we enemies now? Is this like Bruno Sanmartino and Larry Zybysko? (Note: Apparently, Zybysko’s real name is Lawrence Whistler… that’s right, he changed his name to Larry Zybysko.) Will Jose be forced to betray you now and spend the next 30 years referring to himself as “The Living Legend Jose Melendez?” (Note: Okay no one calls you “living legend” so would probably steal your epithet and walk around referring to himself as “ESPN Page 2’s” Jose Melendez for the next 30 years.)
So what is it? What are you trying to say? Is Timmy trapped in a well? Are the aliens monitoring your columns? Are you jealous that ESPN Page 2’s Eric (K)neel had a blurb on the back of the KEYS Book? (Note: Now available in one different language!) Jose and maybe three people on Sons of Sam Horn are dying to know.
Your pal (note: or possibly enemy, let’s see how this plays out),
Jose Melendez
For the full KEYS visit http://www.wallballsingle.com/
1. An open letter to Bill Simmons, a.k.a. ESPN.com’s “The Sports Guy.”
Dear Bill,
“I’m Bill Simmons and this is my column.” June 13, 2005, 2:34 p.m. ET
Hmmm... That sounds familiar. Familiar like a Joe Biden term paper. But maybe not dishonest. That can’t have been an accident, can it?
No, you were sending Jose Melendez a message or an enticement. It’s like waving the red flag in front of the proverbial bull, the doughnut in front of the proverbial David Wells or the dollar bill in front of the proverbial Roger Clemens. You used Jose’s meter, his material, his style to get Jose’s attention, to get him to charge at you with his full weight behind him.
But why? Why call Jose out? Why try to show him up in front of the tens, if not dozens of people who would actually understand the message you were trying to send? Was it a taunt? An homage?
The possibility that you are mocking Jose haunts him. You’ve been like a father to Jose, a father he’s never met, spoken with or seen and who would have been like eight years old when Jose was born, but a father nonetheless, and after 28 years of ignoring Jose, this is how you chose to contact him? It’s like you’re Greg Minor. (Note: You have the national audience, you make the Shawn Kemp jokes, Jose is local and will stick obscure Celtics, thank you very much. Besides, Jose has a Greg Minor autograph somewhere and God knows, Minor’s play on the court didn’t make it valuable, so Jose needs to talk him up.)
For so long Jose’s dreamed you would contact him. You know, show up at his office begging for gambling money or a quick fix from the Dunkin’ Donuts next door, but it never happened. Jose even wrote you once or twice, suggesting gags. You remember, don’t you? Jose wrote you suggesting that if Johnny had hit Daniel San with that kick during the skeleton/ Halloween scene, the kick that shattered that sign, he would have killed Daniel and the movie would have been called “The Murder Trial of Johnny Lawrence” rather than “Karate Kid.” Jose knew he couldn’t use it, Karate Kid jokes are your thing, so he sent it to you as a gift, as a sign of respect. But you never answered, and Jose let you drift from his mind... the pain of being ignored was too great.
Just two weeks ago, Jose thought about trying to contact you again. Jose bought 11 unopened packs of Rocky IV trading cards in Rhode Island, and he was going to send you one, because he knows you’d like it. But now? Now Jose is thinking about buying unopened Rocky V trading cards to send you, that’s how agitated he is.
Are we enemies now? Is this like Bruno Sanmartino and Larry Zybysko? (Note: Apparently, Zybysko’s real name is Lawrence Whistler… that’s right, he changed his name to Larry Zybysko.) Will Jose be forced to betray you now and spend the next 30 years referring to himself as “The Living Legend Jose Melendez?” (Note: Okay no one calls you “living legend” so would probably steal your epithet and walk around referring to himself as “ESPN Page 2’s” Jose Melendez for the next 30 years.)
So what is it? What are you trying to say? Is Timmy trapped in a well? Are the aliens monitoring your columns? Are you jealous that ESPN Page 2’s Eric (K)neel had a blurb on the back of the KEYS Book? (Note: Now available in one different language!) Jose and maybe three people on Sons of Sam Horn are dying to know.
Your pal (note: or possibly enemy, let’s see how this plays out),
Jose Melendez
For the full KEYS visit http://www.wallballsingle.com/
Tuesday, June 14
6/14/05 – 1975 World Series Game 9
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. In the eight inning of last night’s game, (note: at which Jose improved to 4-0) the Mo Vaughn Jumbotron announced that Jason Varitek’s wife Karen gave birth to a baby girl who they named Caroline, ostensibly after the Neil Diamond/Fenway Park classic Sweet Caroline. At least, Jose hopes that’s the reason. The other possibility is that their favorite sitcom was Caroline in the City, and that’s just too horrible to contemplate.
But all in all, this name is a good choice when one thinks of all of the other Fenway Park anthems that they could have named their daughter after. It beats the heck out of Boom Boom Boom (let me hear you say way-ooh) Varitek, Dirty Water Varitek and most especially Tessie Varitek.
So congratulations to the Variteks both on the birth of their daughter and on their shrewd naming skills.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
1. In the eight inning of last night’s game, (note: at which Jose improved to 4-0) the Mo Vaughn Jumbotron announced that Jason Varitek’s wife Karen gave birth to a baby girl who they named Caroline, ostensibly after the Neil Diamond/Fenway Park classic Sweet Caroline. At least, Jose hopes that’s the reason. The other possibility is that their favorite sitcom was Caroline in the City, and that’s just too horrible to contemplate.
But all in all, this name is a good choice when one thinks of all of the other Fenway Park anthems that they could have named their daughter after. It beats the heck out of Boom Boom Boom (let me hear you say way-ooh) Varitek, Dirty Water Varitek and most especially Tessie Varitek.
So congratulations to the Variteks both on the birth of their daughter and on their shrewd naming skills.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
Monday, June 13
6/13/05 – 1975 World Series Game 8
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Jose learned a valuable lesson this weekend. Sunscreen is a lot like starting pitching --by the time you know that it isn’t working, it’s already way too late.
When Jose went to Horseneck Beach on Sunday, he thought he was covered. He coated up with Banana Boat SPF 30 spray sun block and got ready to soak up some rays. This was a change for Jose. In the past he had always used cream sun block. He always knew exactly what he was getting with the cream. He knew its upsides, that it could be highly effective at preventing sunburns, especially on the hottest days. But he also knew the downsides, that it was sticky and difficult to spread through chest hair, sometimes resulting in uneven performance, and thus blotchy sunburns.
So Jose made a decision this winter to trade in the cream sun block for the spray. He was all too familiar with the negatives of the cream and from a distance the spray seemed like a better bet. So Jose went into his first beach day of the year with the spray, and everything felt like it was going according to plan. He sprayed when he got to the beach, he resprayed when he got out of the water and his skin remained a pasty white. That is, it remained a pasty white until about an hour after he left the beach when white turned to red more quickly and only modestly less painfully than Russia in 1917. Whoops, too late.
As it turned out, Jose’s new sun screen hadn’t gotten the job done. Under the bright lights, it was flat out ineffective. For the extremely dense among you, allow Jose to spell it out. Pedro and DLowe are cream sun block and this year’s rotation is spray on. Last year’s rotation could be uneven, but it was highly effective when it counted. And this year’s rotation? So far it has been ineffective far too often, and when that has been the case, the Red Sox have gotten burned.
But there the analogy seems to end. When Jose goes back to the beach next week, he will be packing cream sun block. Can he get anything in return for the spray? Probably not, he may just have to swallow the cost of the bottle. But the Red Sox can’t just go back to the cream, Pedro and DLowe are gone, and they aren’t coming back. The question is whether Theo Epstein can find another kind of sun block or whether he is going to have to spend the rest of the year relying on the spray on and getting burned to a crisp.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
1. Jose learned a valuable lesson this weekend. Sunscreen is a lot like starting pitching --by the time you know that it isn’t working, it’s already way too late.
When Jose went to Horseneck Beach on Sunday, he thought he was covered. He coated up with Banana Boat SPF 30 spray sun block and got ready to soak up some rays. This was a change for Jose. In the past he had always used cream sun block. He always knew exactly what he was getting with the cream. He knew its upsides, that it could be highly effective at preventing sunburns, especially on the hottest days. But he also knew the downsides, that it was sticky and difficult to spread through chest hair, sometimes resulting in uneven performance, and thus blotchy sunburns.
So Jose made a decision this winter to trade in the cream sun block for the spray. He was all too familiar with the negatives of the cream and from a distance the spray seemed like a better bet. So Jose went into his first beach day of the year with the spray, and everything felt like it was going according to plan. He sprayed when he got to the beach, he resprayed when he got out of the water and his skin remained a pasty white. That is, it remained a pasty white until about an hour after he left the beach when white turned to red more quickly and only modestly less painfully than Russia in 1917. Whoops, too late.
As it turned out, Jose’s new sun screen hadn’t gotten the job done. Under the bright lights, it was flat out ineffective. For the extremely dense among you, allow Jose to spell it out. Pedro and DLowe are cream sun block and this year’s rotation is spray on. Last year’s rotation could be uneven, but it was highly effective when it counted. And this year’s rotation? So far it has been ineffective far too often, and when that has been the case, the Red Sox have gotten burned.
But there the analogy seems to end. When Jose goes back to the beach next week, he will be packing cream sun block. Can he get anything in return for the spray? Probably not, he may just have to swallow the cost of the bottle. But the Red Sox can’t just go back to the cream, Pedro and DLowe are gone, and they aren’t coming back. The question is whether Theo Epstein can find another kind of sun block or whether he is going to have to spend the rest of the year relying on the spray on and getting burned to a crisp.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
Friday, June 10
6/10/05 – Red Sox go for Two Straight Over the Cubs
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. The Red Sox continue their swing through the National League Central today with the first game of a series against the Chicago Cubs that is completely and utterly without symbolic and historic significance. That’s right this series has no special meaning. None.
Yes, yes the Red Sox beat the Cubs to win the 1918 World Series, but so what? We beat the Pirates to win the 1903 World Series, and when we play them it’s nothing more than a footnote of modest interest. Nor does anyone recount the glory of 1915 when we play the Phillies. The Cubs are just another team with whom the Red Sox share no special relationship whatsoever aside from the fact that they both play in very old and cool stadiums. When push comes to shove the Red Sox are the defending World Champions and the Cubs are a team that believes that they were cursed by a goat. It’s true. Cubs fans (note: or at least Cubs beat writers) now track their failures to livestock rather than the cheapness of the Tribune Company. But it got Jose thinking, if the Cubs were cursed by a farm animal what animal might be responsible for the curse that has held the Yankees championshipless in the 21st century despite spending more than one-half billion dollars? Since the real source of their troubles is George Steinbrenner, Jose would have to say it’s “The Curse of the Jackass.”
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
1. The Red Sox continue their swing through the National League Central today with the first game of a series against the Chicago Cubs that is completely and utterly without symbolic and historic significance. That’s right this series has no special meaning. None.
Yes, yes the Red Sox beat the Cubs to win the 1918 World Series, but so what? We beat the Pirates to win the 1903 World Series, and when we play them it’s nothing more than a footnote of modest interest. Nor does anyone recount the glory of 1915 when we play the Phillies. The Cubs are just another team with whom the Red Sox share no special relationship whatsoever aside from the fact that they both play in very old and cool stadiums. When push comes to shove the Red Sox are the defending World Champions and the Cubs are a team that believes that they were cursed by a goat. It’s true. Cubs fans (note: or at least Cubs beat writers) now track their failures to livestock rather than the cheapness of the Tribune Company. But it got Jose thinking, if the Cubs were cursed by a farm animal what animal might be responsible for the curse that has held the Yankees championshipless in the 21st century despite spending more than one-half billion dollars? Since the real source of their troubles is George Steinbrenner, Jose would have to say it’s “The Curse of the Jackass.”
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
Wednesday, June 8
6/8/05 -- Wells vs. Carpenter
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Well, the St. Louis Cardinals are finally showing some life against the Red Sox long after the World Series spotlight has dimmed and the media hordes have drifted off. Why the difference now? Perhaps the World Series logo on the jerseys set their hitters off balance.
Yes, a two game losing streak to a very good team in June is relatively unimportant, but Jose worries that this series is highlighting the difference between this year’s Sox team and last year’s championship edition.
The reason the Red Sox had such an easy time in last year’s World Series was their starting pitching. We had great starters, they had merely good starters. Over the course of the season our rotation was not so much better than theirs, but in the October chill, our great pitchers pitched great and their good pitchers pitched poorly. (Note: Okay even our bad pitchers like DLowe, pitched great).
What troubles Jose is that when he looks at the Red Sox rotation right now, he sees the St. Louis rotation from 2004. Five perfectly good pitchers, any of whom he is happy to have in his rotation, but who among them would you like to have pitch Game 1 of the World Series for you?
Right now the Sox rotation is like playing five card draw and getting dealt a King, a Queen, a Jack a Ten all hearts, and then having a 9 of clubs. Yes, all of those cards are just fine, and any of them could be part of a great hand under the right circumstances, but with those five together, you’ve got a loser. Yes, you can bluff your way along with it for a while, but when the time comes to draw, you need to trade that nine in and pray for the ace of hearts. If you draw that ace of hearts then you have something special, if you draw any heart you’ve got something good and if you pick up any other ace or a ten you have something okay, but be assured, the status quo is not good enough. (Note: Jose knows that poker analogies are cliché, but he would like to take credit for defying fashion by using a five card draw analogy rather than a hold ‘em analogy.)
The question is how do you force the ace? Drawing a healthy Curt Euro is the clearest possibility, but who knows if it is a realistic one. So what are the other options? With Ben Sheets and Johann Santana safely tied up and Roger Clemens an overpriced relic who cannot be relied upon to beat Jeff Suppan in the big games, Jose thinks we are stuck relying on holograms or possibly robots… robots have been good before. (Note: What did you really think you were going to get sound analysis of the market for starting pitchers from KEYS TO THE GAME? If you want sounds analysis, go to the SoSH main board. If you want robots as the answer for pretty much everything, come to the KEYS.)
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
1. Well, the St. Louis Cardinals are finally showing some life against the Red Sox long after the World Series spotlight has dimmed and the media hordes have drifted off. Why the difference now? Perhaps the World Series logo on the jerseys set their hitters off balance.
Yes, a two game losing streak to a very good team in June is relatively unimportant, but Jose worries that this series is highlighting the difference between this year’s Sox team and last year’s championship edition.
The reason the Red Sox had such an easy time in last year’s World Series was their starting pitching. We had great starters, they had merely good starters. Over the course of the season our rotation was not so much better than theirs, but in the October chill, our great pitchers pitched great and their good pitchers pitched poorly. (Note: Okay even our bad pitchers like DLowe, pitched great).
What troubles Jose is that when he looks at the Red Sox rotation right now, he sees the St. Louis rotation from 2004. Five perfectly good pitchers, any of whom he is happy to have in his rotation, but who among them would you like to have pitch Game 1 of the World Series for you?
Right now the Sox rotation is like playing five card draw and getting dealt a King, a Queen, a Jack a Ten all hearts, and then having a 9 of clubs. Yes, all of those cards are just fine, and any of them could be part of a great hand under the right circumstances, but with those five together, you’ve got a loser. Yes, you can bluff your way along with it for a while, but when the time comes to draw, you need to trade that nine in and pray for the ace of hearts. If you draw that ace of hearts then you have something special, if you draw any heart you’ve got something good and if you pick up any other ace or a ten you have something okay, but be assured, the status quo is not good enough. (Note: Jose knows that poker analogies are cliché, but he would like to take credit for defying fashion by using a five card draw analogy rather than a hold ‘em analogy.)
The question is how do you force the ace? Drawing a healthy Curt Euro is the clearest possibility, but who knows if it is a realistic one. So what are the other options? With Ben Sheets and Johann Santana safely tied up and Roger Clemens an overpriced relic who cannot be relied upon to beat Jeff Suppan in the big games, Jose thinks we are stuck relying on holograms or possibly robots… robots have been good before. (Note: What did you really think you were going to get sound analysis of the market for starting pitchers from KEYS TO THE GAME? If you want sounds analysis, go to the SoSH main board. If you want robots as the answer for pretty much everything, come to the KEYS.)
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
Tuesday, June 7
6/7/05 – World’s Worst Hitter vs. World’s Worst Baserunner
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Yesterday, a friend of Jose’s forwarded an inquiry to him from a discussion board at her office.
Red Sox Dance Figure Symbolism Query (Again)
A little while ago I asked for input from Red Sox fans regarding a folkdance a friend of mine is writing. (It will be set to a tune called"The Reverse the Curse Reel," which a Boston-area fiddler wrote last fall.)
She is looking for a little more help:
"We are almost done devising this thing, and it actually seems to work.However, we're hoping to find a Red Sox or baseball connection for an odd feature we're faced with. The dance ends with parallel reels of 3 on the sides, which flow perfectly from the preceding figure. The women need to end it either awkwardly, as per RSCDS standard, or do a twiddle, which isn't standard but is more fun. We're inclined to go with the twiddle, but would love to justify it with some symbolism.
So, can you (or any of your useful connections) think of a connection for a hook, or a twiddle, or taking a long path, or any other way one could describe doing the extra loop on a reel of 3? Of course, a manager gives a pitcher the hook. Can we work that in? Is it an appropriate way to end the dance?"
[The reel is a figure in which three dancers walk the same figure of eight path simultaneously, starting in different spots. The twiddle is an extra turn or twirl the women have to put in to end in place facing in the right direction.]
Thanks.
Here’s Jose’s take on it… Huh?
As you know, Jose has made a blogging career out of connecting pretty much any human endeavor (note: wrestling, politics, crochet, fly fishing) to Red Sox baseball, but this may be beyond even his formidable powers.
Nevertheless, Jose will give it a try. But before he starts, Jose needs to define the terms here. The posting provides a definition for “twiddle” and “reel,” but not “RSCDS.” Let’s look it up. Hold on for just a moment more… There. It stands for Royal Scottish Country Dance Society. Good thing Jose looked it up; his best guesses were that it stood for either Red Sox Castoff Donnie Sadler or Red Sox Calamity Dale Sveum. Now that we’ve defined our terms let’s dive deep into the symbolism.
Now, since this is a “folk dance” the absolute easiest thing in the world would be to tie it in to closer Keith Foulke, for whom folk dancing is named. If we looked for a symbolic move based on Foulke’s performance this year, it would almost certainly involve the men spinning the women into each other and the whole group ending up in a bruised mess on the ground.
Fortunately, the dance is called the “Reverse of the Curse Reel,” so they’re probably looking for something connected to last year, thereby avoiding the pile of mangled folk dancers that is Keith Foulke’s 2005 season. In fact, last year’s accomplishment is too big to limit to Keith Foulke, as great as he was, so let’s build a dance that will honor the whole squad. Jose set off to actually learn some dance terminology that goes beyond twiddling with the help of www.wallballsingle.com
1. Yesterday, a friend of Jose’s forwarded an inquiry to him from a discussion board at her office.
Red Sox Dance Figure Symbolism Query (Again)
A little while ago I asked for input from Red Sox fans regarding a folkdance a friend of mine is writing. (It will be set to a tune called"The Reverse the Curse Reel," which a Boston-area fiddler wrote last fall.)
She is looking for a little more help:
"We are almost done devising this thing, and it actually seems to work.However, we're hoping to find a Red Sox or baseball connection for an odd feature we're faced with. The dance ends with parallel reels of 3 on the sides, which flow perfectly from the preceding figure. The women need to end it either awkwardly, as per RSCDS standard, or do a twiddle, which isn't standard but is more fun. We're inclined to go with the twiddle, but would love to justify it with some symbolism.
So, can you (or any of your useful connections) think of a connection for a hook, or a twiddle, or taking a long path, or any other way one could describe doing the extra loop on a reel of 3? Of course, a manager gives a pitcher the hook. Can we work that in? Is it an appropriate way to end the dance?"
[The reel is a figure in which three dancers walk the same figure of eight path simultaneously, starting in different spots. The twiddle is an extra turn or twirl the women have to put in to end in place facing in the right direction.]
Thanks.
Here’s Jose’s take on it… Huh?
As you know, Jose has made a blogging career out of connecting pretty much any human endeavor (note: wrestling, politics, crochet, fly fishing) to Red Sox baseball, but this may be beyond even his formidable powers.
Nevertheless, Jose will give it a try. But before he starts, Jose needs to define the terms here. The posting provides a definition for “twiddle” and “reel,” but not “RSCDS.” Let’s look it up. Hold on for just a moment more… There. It stands for Royal Scottish Country Dance Society. Good thing Jose looked it up; his best guesses were that it stood for either Red Sox Castoff Donnie Sadler or Red Sox Calamity Dale Sveum. Now that we’ve defined our terms let’s dive deep into the symbolism.
Now, since this is a “folk dance” the absolute easiest thing in the world would be to tie it in to closer Keith Foulke, for whom folk dancing is named. If we looked for a symbolic move based on Foulke’s performance this year, it would almost certainly involve the men spinning the women into each other and the whole group ending up in a bruised mess on the ground.
Fortunately, the dance is called the “Reverse of the Curse Reel,” so they’re probably looking for something connected to last year, thereby avoiding the pile of mangled folk dancers that is Keith Foulke’s 2005 season. In fact, last year’s accomplishment is too big to limit to Keith Foulke, as great as he was, so let’s build a dance that will honor the whole squad. Jose set off to actually learn some dance terminology that goes beyond twiddling with the help of www.wallballsingle.com
Monday, June 6
6/6/05 – Sox look for 5 Straight over St. Louis
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. With yesterday’s Red Sox win, Jose’s 2005 record climbed to an impressive 3-0 prompting whispers about whether he might be a dark horse candidate for the All-Star team and questions as to whether his diminished innings in the early part of the season will prevent the woes that led him to pick up losses in his final five appearances of 2004.
While Jose’s record as a patron has been terrific, his record at the Fenway attendance quiz has been the mirror image, as Jose fell to 0-3 yesterday. Jose used to get attendance quizzes right most of the time, not as often as his friend Joel, who claims to have gotten every quiz he has seen right for 15 years, but still often. Also unlike Joel, Jose is not making things up. But lately, Jose just can’t get the job done. Thankfully, Jose has a simple and logical explanation for his futility – the new Red Sox ownership.
Yes, yes, Henry, Werner and Lucchino have won a World Series, expanded Fenway and improve concessions, but what they have done to the attendance quiz is just unconscionable. Yesterday, the official attendance was 35,008. The other final choice in the attendance quiz was 35,067. That’s a difference of 59. Fifty-Nine!!! That’s less than two-tenths of one percent. Tenths of a percent may mean something for interest rates, or stock prices or whatever the heck John Henry deals in, but they mean nothing in attendance quizzes. Nothing!!! Jose believes in high standards, he opposes the soft bigotry of low expectations, but expecting fans to make a distinction that fine in the attendance quiz is setting them up for failure. It is like asking Sox manager Terry Eurona to pick a utility man from a field consisting entirely of Ramon Vasquez and Cesar Crespo. Yes, there is some infinitesimal difference, and one must be better than the other, but the differences are indistinguishable to the naked eye. Whether one is right or wrong is strictly luck.
So here is what Jose proposes, for the next attendance quiz, the Red Sox should offer the following choices:
A. The actual attendance
B. The number of chicken wings Kevin Millar has eaten in the past year
C. Alan Embree’s ERA
D. Johnny Damon’s batting average out to five decimal places.
All of those should be somewhere between 30,000 and 37,000.
For the complete KEYS visit www.wallballsingle.com
1. With yesterday’s Red Sox win, Jose’s 2005 record climbed to an impressive 3-0 prompting whispers about whether he might be a dark horse candidate for the All-Star team and questions as to whether his diminished innings in the early part of the season will prevent the woes that led him to pick up losses in his final five appearances of 2004.
While Jose’s record as a patron has been terrific, his record at the Fenway attendance quiz has been the mirror image, as Jose fell to 0-3 yesterday. Jose used to get attendance quizzes right most of the time, not as often as his friend Joel, who claims to have gotten every quiz he has seen right for 15 years, but still often. Also unlike Joel, Jose is not making things up. But lately, Jose just can’t get the job done. Thankfully, Jose has a simple and logical explanation for his futility – the new Red Sox ownership.
Yes, yes, Henry, Werner and Lucchino have won a World Series, expanded Fenway and improve concessions, but what they have done to the attendance quiz is just unconscionable. Yesterday, the official attendance was 35,008. The other final choice in the attendance quiz was 35,067. That’s a difference of 59. Fifty-Nine!!! That’s less than two-tenths of one percent. Tenths of a percent may mean something for interest rates, or stock prices or whatever the heck John Henry deals in, but they mean nothing in attendance quizzes. Nothing!!! Jose believes in high standards, he opposes the soft bigotry of low expectations, but expecting fans to make a distinction that fine in the attendance quiz is setting them up for failure. It is like asking Sox manager Terry Eurona to pick a utility man from a field consisting entirely of Ramon Vasquez and Cesar Crespo. Yes, there is some infinitesimal difference, and one must be better than the other, but the differences are indistinguishable to the naked eye. Whether one is right or wrong is strictly luck.
So here is what Jose proposes, for the next attendance quiz, the Red Sox should offer the following choices:
A. The actual attendance
B. The number of chicken wings Kevin Millar has eaten in the past year
C. Alan Embree’s ERA
D. Johnny Damon’s batting average out to five decimal places.
All of those should be somewhere between 30,000 and 37,000.
For the complete KEYS visit www.wallballsingle.com
Sunday, June 5
6/5/05 – Ohne Umlaut vs. Ohne Chance
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Earlier in the week, Jose sent this very link to a friend of a friend, let’s call her Liz, who works in publishing and had suggested that she might be able to send KEYS on to someone in the company who keeps an eye on blogs as part of a search for literary talent. (Note: Whoops, Jose forgot that when one uses a “let’s call her” one is supposed to make up a name. Nuts.) Then at a barbecue last night Jose got the heartbreaking news. Liz couldn’t understand the KEYS at all. Not the wrestling analogies, not the comic book material and certainly not any of the meager baseball commentary. And it made Jose sad. Not sad because the odds are that his slim chances of being picked up by a mid-major publishing house have dwindled to none. Jose knew that dream was as distant as the Sox winning the Series. (Note: Wait… Crap… Jose might have had a chance.) No, he is sad because of what this revelation says about the state of liberal arts education in America.
This woman went to the same private university as Jose, and yet she came out without even the most rudimentary knowledge of the history of WrestleMania or the differences between the three Green Goblins. Can the curriculum really have changed so much in the two years that separated them? Maybe it’s that Jose was in an interdisciplinary program which combined disciplines like wrestling, television and literature? Sure, she is extremely knowledgeable about literature, Latin and poetry, but can those alone truly compensate for inadequate knowledge about the card at the original SummerSlam? It just speaks to a shocking unevenness in our universities. Jose, hopes, he desperately, desperately, hopes that Boston University’s newly appointed president, Robert Brown takes a serious look at placing more emphasis on baseball, wrestling and comic books in the core curriculum.
But what does all of this have to due with baseball? After all, this is an inaccessible baseball blog, not an inaccessible something else blog. Well, Jose is worried that an improperly balanced education may be endangering the senses of humor of future generations and endangering their ability to come up with suitable bleacher patter. (Note: Did Jose succeed in making a KEY that has nothing to do with baseball about baseball? You make the call!) You know bleacher patter. The ongoing dialogue consisting largely of obscure details that two knowledgeable fans are able to maintain throughout the course of a game with the help of the demon rum. Bleacher patter is completely contingent upon a broad based education.
As Jose’s friend Karl once pointed out upon hearing a fan yell “Hey, ump if you had one more eye, you’d be a cyclops,” a good sense of humor (note: and by extension good fandom) is clearly rooted in a classical education. If we do not invest in our young people now, who will be the fans of the future? Who will compare Derek Jeter to Narcissus, or Ellis Burks to Spiderman villain the Lizard? Jose weeps for the future.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
1. Earlier in the week, Jose sent this very link to a friend of a friend, let’s call her Liz, who works in publishing and had suggested that she might be able to send KEYS on to someone in the company who keeps an eye on blogs as part of a search for literary talent. (Note: Whoops, Jose forgot that when one uses a “let’s call her” one is supposed to make up a name. Nuts.) Then at a barbecue last night Jose got the heartbreaking news. Liz couldn’t understand the KEYS at all. Not the wrestling analogies, not the comic book material and certainly not any of the meager baseball commentary. And it made Jose sad. Not sad because the odds are that his slim chances of being picked up by a mid-major publishing house have dwindled to none. Jose knew that dream was as distant as the Sox winning the Series. (Note: Wait… Crap… Jose might have had a chance.) No, he is sad because of what this revelation says about the state of liberal arts education in America.
This woman went to the same private university as Jose, and yet she came out without even the most rudimentary knowledge of the history of WrestleMania or the differences between the three Green Goblins. Can the curriculum really have changed so much in the two years that separated them? Maybe it’s that Jose was in an interdisciplinary program which combined disciplines like wrestling, television and literature? Sure, she is extremely knowledgeable about literature, Latin and poetry, but can those alone truly compensate for inadequate knowledge about the card at the original SummerSlam? It just speaks to a shocking unevenness in our universities. Jose, hopes, he desperately, desperately, hopes that Boston University’s newly appointed president, Robert Brown takes a serious look at placing more emphasis on baseball, wrestling and comic books in the core curriculum.
But what does all of this have to due with baseball? After all, this is an inaccessible baseball blog, not an inaccessible something else blog. Well, Jose is worried that an improperly balanced education may be endangering the senses of humor of future generations and endangering their ability to come up with suitable bleacher patter. (Note: Did Jose succeed in making a KEY that has nothing to do with baseball about baseball? You make the call!) You know bleacher patter. The ongoing dialogue consisting largely of obscure details that two knowledgeable fans are able to maintain throughout the course of a game with the help of the demon rum. Bleacher patter is completely contingent upon a broad based education.
As Jose’s friend Karl once pointed out upon hearing a fan yell “Hey, ump if you had one more eye, you’d be a cyclops,” a good sense of humor (note: and by extension good fandom) is clearly rooted in a classical education. If we do not invest in our young people now, who will be the fans of the future? Who will compare Derek Jeter to Narcissus, or Ellis Burks to Spiderman villain the Lizard? Jose weeps for the future.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
Thursday, June 2
6/2/05 -- Antipope Clement XV vs. Founder of UPenn
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
Jose fears that his hearing is now what it used to be. Or is it his listening? Either way.
Jose walked past Fenway last night at about nine o’clock after finishing an excellent meal at Brown Sugar Café (note: perhaps the best restaurant relative to price in Boston) and was strolling back to the North End with three friends, one of whom was in town from Baton Rouge. As we walked by the ballpark a cheer went up. Jose paused for a moment and assessed the cacophony. Then he declared “That was a good sign, those were not the sarcastic cheers of fans whose team is way behind. Those were honest, enthusiastic cheers. The Sox are either way ahead, or the game is close.”
When Jose walked a block further his best hopes were confirmed, the scoreboard showed Kelly Shoppach on the Jumbotron. Surely, his insertion into the game proved that the Sox were way ahead.
Then things started to unravel. Jose started thinking that the Sox were only two hours in to the game, and they couldn’t possibly have inserted Shoppach with Wakefield still in the game. Maybe the Sox weren’t up after all? Maybe it wasn’t even close. Then as Jose walked past the bars of Boylston Street, he saw the silhouette of Sidney Ponson’s portly frame on a dozen television screens.
Jose’s concern became denial. As Jose reached Berkley Street and entered a bar, he got his first glimpse of a scoreboard. Boston 3, Baltimore 0. They are ahead! But not by much. Then reality triumphed over hope. Jose’s eyes focused more sharply and a stream of white pixels formed a violent scratch across the zero next to Baltimore. As the zero became a heartbreaking eight, the cold, unpleasant truth of the moment slapped Jose across the face like A-Rod swatting a first baseman’s mitt.
“Eight” thought Jose! “Eight? Chinese lucky number Jose’s *ss.”
And now Jose does not know what to believe. His ears deceived him; his eyes deceived him. But perhaps, Jose is not losing his senses, perhaps the world was just senseless last night. As Jose read the paper the next day, he learned that they were heartfelt cheers that he heard, that the Sox were making a serious push to win the game. And Kelly Shoppach? Shoppach’s appearance was an odd anomaly, the act of a manager who yielded too soon.
No, it was the world that had gone mad, not Jose.
For the complete KEYS visit www.wallballsingle.com
Jose fears that his hearing is now what it used to be. Or is it his listening? Either way.
Jose walked past Fenway last night at about nine o’clock after finishing an excellent meal at Brown Sugar Café (note: perhaps the best restaurant relative to price in Boston) and was strolling back to the North End with three friends, one of whom was in town from Baton Rouge. As we walked by the ballpark a cheer went up. Jose paused for a moment and assessed the cacophony. Then he declared “That was a good sign, those were not the sarcastic cheers of fans whose team is way behind. Those were honest, enthusiastic cheers. The Sox are either way ahead, or the game is close.”
When Jose walked a block further his best hopes were confirmed, the scoreboard showed Kelly Shoppach on the Jumbotron. Surely, his insertion into the game proved that the Sox were way ahead.
Then things started to unravel. Jose started thinking that the Sox were only two hours in to the game, and they couldn’t possibly have inserted Shoppach with Wakefield still in the game. Maybe the Sox weren’t up after all? Maybe it wasn’t even close. Then as Jose walked past the bars of Boylston Street, he saw the silhouette of Sidney Ponson’s portly frame on a dozen television screens.
Jose’s concern became denial. As Jose reached Berkley Street and entered a bar, he got his first glimpse of a scoreboard. Boston 3, Baltimore 0. They are ahead! But not by much. Then reality triumphed over hope. Jose’s eyes focused more sharply and a stream of white pixels formed a violent scratch across the zero next to Baltimore. As the zero became a heartbreaking eight, the cold, unpleasant truth of the moment slapped Jose across the face like A-Rod swatting a first baseman’s mitt.
“Eight” thought Jose! “Eight? Chinese lucky number Jose’s *ss.”
And now Jose does not know what to believe. His ears deceived him; his eyes deceived him. But perhaps, Jose is not losing his senses, perhaps the world was just senseless last night. As Jose read the paper the next day, he learned that they were heartfelt cheers that he heard, that the Sox were making a serious push to win the game. And Kelly Shoppach? Shoppach’s appearance was an odd anomaly, the act of a manager who yielded too soon.
No, it was the world that had gone mad, not Jose.
For the complete KEYS visit www.wallballsingle.com
Wednesday, June 1
6/1/05 – Wakefield vs. Ponson
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Sox manager Terry Eurona removed Johnny Damon from last night’s game after the centerfielder split his head open running into the cold hard steal of the outfield fence. In Jose’s opinion this is an inexcusable managerial failure on Eurona’s part. Yes Damon was bleeding, yes his face was well on its way to becoming the proverbial “crimson mask,” but Damon was prepared to stay in and he should have.
Did King Kong Bundy’s manager Bobby “The Brain” Heenan replace him with Big John Studd when Bundy was split open during his cage match with Hulk Hogan at Wrestlemania 2? Did the Undertaker’s manager Paul Bearer yank him out of his Hell in a Cell match with Mick Foley when his face was split by iron? No, because both of those men are competitors who wanted to stay in the game, just like Johnny Damon.
There is a reason that baseball and wrestling are the only two sports that use the term “manager” rather than coach. It is because the two sports share a common flow and continuity that other sports lack, and the job of a manager, unlike a coach is to guide his team or wrestler along that flow, like a rafter managing treacherous rapids. A coach cajoles, urges, inspires, but a manager simply manages; he takes the events that come to him and makes adjustments. Eurona has been a very good manager, the best Sox manager of Jose’s lifetime, but last night’s decision was reminiscent of Arnold Skaaland’s decision to throw in the towel when his man, WWF champion Bob Backlund, was locked in the Iron Sheik’s camel clutch. Of course, the Sheik later claimed that he had bribed Skaaland with oriental carpets. So how many carpets did Lee Mazzilli give you last night Tito? How many???
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
1. Sox manager Terry Eurona removed Johnny Damon from last night’s game after the centerfielder split his head open running into the cold hard steal of the outfield fence. In Jose’s opinion this is an inexcusable managerial failure on Eurona’s part. Yes Damon was bleeding, yes his face was well on its way to becoming the proverbial “crimson mask,” but Damon was prepared to stay in and he should have.
Did King Kong Bundy’s manager Bobby “The Brain” Heenan replace him with Big John Studd when Bundy was split open during his cage match with Hulk Hogan at Wrestlemania 2? Did the Undertaker’s manager Paul Bearer yank him out of his Hell in a Cell match with Mick Foley when his face was split by iron? No, because both of those men are competitors who wanted to stay in the game, just like Johnny Damon.
There is a reason that baseball and wrestling are the only two sports that use the term “manager” rather than coach. It is because the two sports share a common flow and continuity that other sports lack, and the job of a manager, unlike a coach is to guide his team or wrestler along that flow, like a rafter managing treacherous rapids. A coach cajoles, urges, inspires, but a manager simply manages; he takes the events that come to him and makes adjustments. Eurona has been a very good manager, the best Sox manager of Jose’s lifetime, but last night’s decision was reminiscent of Arnold Skaaland’s decision to throw in the towel when his man, WWF champion Bob Backlund, was locked in the Iron Sheik’s camel clutch. Of course, the Sheik later claimed that he had bribed Skaaland with oriental carpets. So how many carpets did Lee Mazzilli give you last night Tito? How many???
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
Tuesday, May 31
5/31/05 – Miller vs. Cabrera
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. For the second straight year, the Boston Red Sox did their absolute best to ruin Jose’s drive home at the end of Memorial Day weekend with a horrific and boring loss to the Baltimore Orioles. (Note: Jose would like to remind the Red Sox that laying down their bats is not an appropriate tribute to our war heroes.) But never let it be said that Jose doesn’t learn from his mistakes. Much like Dale Sveum… wait… bad example… much like George Steinbrenner… no… that one doesn’t work either. Much like Theo Epstein, Jose will not make the same mistakes a second time.
Mistake number one: Jose went to the Cape last year, thereby forcing him to sit in endless bridge traffic during the game. This year Jose vacationed safely on the mainland side of the bridge… in Quincy. Ha ha!!! No Jose, made it a little further than that, but still well to the West of the Cape Cod Canal.
Mistake number two: Last year, Jose left at game time, resulting in the game playing a decisive role in determining whether the three hour trip would be tolerable. This year, Jose left an hour before game time and arrived at home a mere 15 minutes after first pitch, far before the game got out of hand.
Mistake number three: Last year, Jose allowed himself to believe, based on past excellence, that Megatron Lowe was a first rate, front line starter, and therefore that a game he started would at least be competitive. This year, Jose allowed himself to believe, based on past excellence that Balki Arroyo was a first rate, front line starter, and therefore that a game he started would at least be competitive. As a result…wait… crap… that’s not any different at all.
Apparently, Jose learned nothing. On the plus side, he looks forward to Arroyo duplicating DLowe’s postseason heroics this Fall.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
1. For the second straight year, the Boston Red Sox did their absolute best to ruin Jose’s drive home at the end of Memorial Day weekend with a horrific and boring loss to the Baltimore Orioles. (Note: Jose would like to remind the Red Sox that laying down their bats is not an appropriate tribute to our war heroes.) But never let it be said that Jose doesn’t learn from his mistakes. Much like Dale Sveum… wait… bad example… much like George Steinbrenner… no… that one doesn’t work either. Much like Theo Epstein, Jose will not make the same mistakes a second time.
Mistake number one: Jose went to the Cape last year, thereby forcing him to sit in endless bridge traffic during the game. This year Jose vacationed safely on the mainland side of the bridge… in Quincy. Ha ha!!! No Jose, made it a little further than that, but still well to the West of the Cape Cod Canal.
Mistake number two: Last year, Jose left at game time, resulting in the game playing a decisive role in determining whether the three hour trip would be tolerable. This year, Jose left an hour before game time and arrived at home a mere 15 minutes after first pitch, far before the game got out of hand.
Mistake number three: Last year, Jose allowed himself to believe, based on past excellence, that Megatron Lowe was a first rate, front line starter, and therefore that a game he started would at least be competitive. This year, Jose allowed himself to believe, based on past excellence that Balki Arroyo was a first rate, front line starter, and therefore that a game he started would at least be competitive. As a result…wait… crap… that’s not any different at all.
Apparently, Jose learned nothing. On the plus side, he looks forward to Arroyo duplicating DLowe’s postseason heroics this Fall.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
Sunday, May 29
5/29/05 – Malign Fatty Tumor vs. It’s Not a Tumor
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Well, that’s more like it. After dropping four straight games in terrible performances, the WORLD CHAMPION RED SOX finally showed some spark yesterday, absolutely dismantling the Yankees 17-1. Shockingly, the absolute best characterization of the days events came in the headline to a Tony Castrati story that read “Pavano no stranger to disastrous routs.” That’s terrific. In fact, it’s absolutely perfect. (Note: Jose would like to remind everyone, at this time, that reporters, as they always tell us, do not write the headlines. So Tony Castrati gets no credit. NONE!!!!)
Of course, Castrati concluded the story with the highly scientific observation that the last time Pavano took a pummeling of this sort at the hands of the Red Sox, his team went on to win the World Series, implying that this may well happen again. Jose would like to address this specious reasoning in the style of Lisa Simpson. Tony, Jose has a rock in his pocket that keeps tigers away. How do you know it keeps Tigers away? Jose doesn’t see any Tigers around him and he doesn’t even have an y Sox Tigers tickets for this year. Therefore it must keep Tigers away. It’s exactly the same as your Pavano Principle. So how about it Tony? Five hundred dollars.
But the real story was that the Red Sox yesterday were like Frankenstein’s Monster, remarkably coming to life and in anger and disorientation absolutely trashing the room and everything in their path. Now that the World Champs have been unleashed on an unsuspecting world, we need only hope that the Yankees don’t realize that we’re afraid of fire.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
1. Well, that’s more like it. After dropping four straight games in terrible performances, the WORLD CHAMPION RED SOX finally showed some spark yesterday, absolutely dismantling the Yankees 17-1. Shockingly, the absolute best characterization of the days events came in the headline to a Tony Castrati story that read “Pavano no stranger to disastrous routs.” That’s terrific. In fact, it’s absolutely perfect. (Note: Jose would like to remind everyone, at this time, that reporters, as they always tell us, do not write the headlines. So Tony Castrati gets no credit. NONE!!!!)
Of course, Castrati concluded the story with the highly scientific observation that the last time Pavano took a pummeling of this sort at the hands of the Red Sox, his team went on to win the World Series, implying that this may well happen again. Jose would like to address this specious reasoning in the style of Lisa Simpson. Tony, Jose has a rock in his pocket that keeps tigers away. How do you know it keeps Tigers away? Jose doesn’t see any Tigers around him and he doesn’t even have an y Sox Tigers tickets for this year. Therefore it must keep Tigers away. It’s exactly the same as your Pavano Principle. So how about it Tony? Five hundred dollars.
But the real story was that the Red Sox yesterday were like Frankenstein’s Monster, remarkably coming to life and in anger and disorientation absolutely trashing the room and everything in their path. Now that the World Champs have been unleashed on an unsuspecting world, we need only hope that the Yankees don’t realize that we’re afraid of fire.
For more visit www.wallballsingle.com
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