Welcome Back Kapler

Last night, Gabe "the babe" Kapler, one of Heeb Magazine's top 100 Jews, returned to Boston.

I had just missed him in Lowell - as I had tickets to last Saturday's game, the day he debuted in Pawtucket on the accelerated spring training tour. I didn't have a chance to catch the PawSox this week, so I had to wait.

Oh and it was worth the wait. Tonight he was hot (and I'm not just talking about filling out those tight white pants) going 2 for 4 and scoring two runs as well as doing a great job outstanding in Nixon's field.

So let me say: Welcome back from your Japanese vacation, we missed you. To be honest, your Japanese in that ad… well, it left a bit to be desired. (Of course, if you brought me back one of those cute Yomiuri Giants bunny mascot shirts, I promise I won't make fun your accent. I am not proud, I can be bribed.)

Once you get everything out of storage and you're settled back in, maybe you and Johnny O can work a deal on the numbers the way Wells and Renteria did. (Speaking of which - did anyone ever find out how much Wells paid for #16?) Even if you stick with 44, I can cope - I'm just happy you're home.

A Home for Manny

So it has been confirmed - Manny is worried about a lack of privacy. He likes the team, he likes the players, he likes the staff; but he doesn't like being hounded everywhere he goes - I can appreciate that. I remember walking down the street with my son one day and someone I've never seen in my life (until that moment) pulling up to yell out the car window, "I loved your column last week. Keep giving them hell!"

My son looked at me and said, "That was creepy."

It is creepy and worrisome when you're a parent. Especially one raking in the big bucks the way Manny is.

So what's the solution? Well, there are the two obvious ones: send him to New York or LA where everyone, but the tourists, is like, "Big deal, you play baseball. Now if you were a movie star." I don't think Manny's ego could handle that (but it might work for Johnny Damon who wants to be a movie star). I just don't like that idea - partially because when Manny's hot, he's hot and when he's lukewarm, he's hot. It works nicely for us.

But I have an idea: move to one of the tonier suburbs of Boston. The "W" towns - like Wellesley or Weston have more than their share of well-heeled, well-connected types that would give a sniff and say, "Well, at least an autographed baseball or bat or something would bring in some good money at the PTO auction this year." He could move over to Chestnut Hill and take up residence next door to James Taylor. That way he could take Manny Jr. trick or treating with the other famous faces that grace the south side of Newton.

My favorite solution - and this is something that would make the most sense: move to a working class style neighborhood like "the Lake" - also known as the village of Nonantum - in Newton. People in tight knit neighborhoods are protective of celebrities in their midst. If he were to purchase a home in the Lake, after the initial star stuff wore off, he'd find that most of the people around here would treat him like everyone else.

If what he truly wants is to be able to live, then move to my neck of the woods and give me a call. We may not have the a-list hot spots in our 'burb, but we do have some of the best public schools in the state and bunch of great restaurants, parks and a well run little league system where Manny Junior wouldn't get star treatment unless he was a star player and Mrs. Manny would still have to pull her concession stand shifts like every one else.

So what do you say Manny? Are you willing to give us a try? It ain't New York or LA, it's better.

Save Arroyo

Forget baseball’s winter hot stove rumors. The league is currently smoldering around a ridiculous summer bonfire. The only thing that the never-ending and always-changing reports confirm is that lot of teams want what very few are willing to give.

Naturally, the Red Sox are right in the thick of the trade rumors. For some reason, several teams have become infatuated with Florida’s A.J. Burnett – Boston included. Apparently, the cool thing to do if you’re a team in need of pitching is to hop on the Burnett bandwagon. If you want to have any chance at making the playoffs this year, your front office should clearly make the Marlins an offer.

Shortly after the Orioles-Marlins trade fizzled after Florida tried to attach the overpriced third baseman Mike Lowell, the Red Sox allegedly starting working a trade for Burnett. Unfortunately, the price for the "best starter available" seems to be concentrated on Boston pitcher Bronson Arroyo.

I’m here to make a plea to save Bronson Arroyo.

Putting aside my bias for a moment towards Arroyo as my favorite pitcher, the trade just does not make sense. Arroyo is 8-6 with a 4.26 ERA, Burnett is 7-6 with a 3.48 ERA. So what if Arroyo’s let a few more balls fly? When he’s been on, he’s been fantastic. He has had his fair share of shaky starts, but so has Burnett, who is even more streaky than Arroyo (I’m not just talking out of my ass here; Burnett is on my fantasy team and I have followed all of his starts, frequently considering dropping him from my roster.)

As far as I am concerned, the two pitchers are almost comparable. I honestly do not think that Burnett will make such an obvious and wonderfully positive impact that a trade is worth completing. Arroyo comes cheap, Burnett does not. And Burnett’s contract is up in a year and, following this summer’s hype, will certainly be trying to sell himself as a necessary ace.

But Arroyo has been through the trenches with the Red Sox. He got his first taste of postseason pressure last year and can only be looking to improve. And the right hander certainly has some balls. Arroyo never seems to be afraid to throw inside at a batter, and his pitches have certainly improved during his two years as a starter.

And besides, I love watching Arroyo pitch. His leg kick is one of the most exciting in the league and he seems to thrill in the spotlight whenever he takes the mound. But the best part about Arroyo is that whenever he gets taken out of a game, he looks genuinely angry at himself for wasting his opportunities. Arroyo is a competitor, and that means a lot more to me than any number of strikeouts Burnett may have already acquired this season.

I want as many of the players from last year’s championship team as possible to try and vie for a championship this year. Boston’s starting pitching is not as bad as many people are making it out to seem, nor is it nearly as bad as many other teams.’ The starters they have now are fine (Schilling should be back soon, hopefully,) – it is the relievers that need help.

The Red Sox should stop concentrating on adding another starter and fix their ever-decaying bullpen. In the meantime, I, personally, cannot wait for Bronson Arroyo’s next start. Boston has a great pitcher who loves the city he plays in, loves the team he plays for, and loves the game he plays. Please, save Bronson Arroyo.

Praying for Clement

The plan was simple. After I finished writing the articles and columns I was assigned for my paper, I was going to sit down this morning and write about the fantasy games played in Fenway on Sunday.

Then I saw Trot Nixon in real pain in the top of the third. Just as I was able to block that out and focus back on the game, I saw Matt Clement literally knocked off his feet by a Crawford line drive.

Like most of those who witnessed that horrible event, for five minutes I prayed and prayed hard. I remember my first three prayers, in quick succession.

My first prayer was, "Please let him be OK."

My second was, "Please let someone be sitting next to his wife who could comfort her when she saw it."

My third was "Please don't let his baby have seen that."

OK, the second two were more wishes than prayers - because there was nothing that could be done about those two things after the fact. The fact still remains that for five long minutes, I prayed and prayed hard for Clement to be alive and well.

This morning, hoping to escape the horrible endless loop of replays, I turned on CNN to find out what else was going on in the world. But there it was - the replay yet again along with some snotty commentator going on about, "This is why pitchers should wear helmets…" and then speculated maybe they didn't because wear helmets because it wasn't "manly."

I went to check my AOhelL email and there it is on my opening screen, "Red Sox pitcher hit in head by line drive."

We can't escape what happened - but we can do something, we can hope and pray that Clement is fine, that he is able to come back and do something he loves: pitch; and that he can do it without fear.

I'll write about the fantasy game later, but for now, my thoughts and prayers are with Clement, the Sox and his family.

Groovin' on a Summer Afternoon

I decided to take a couple of weeks off when I was so angry at the Red Sox that I took off my cap and threw it on the floor. A couple of plays later, I kicked it across the room and it limply sat there until I calmed down enough to look at it again.

I'm not proud - and I don't have those kinds of tantrums often when it comes to the Sox but when we keep hanging onto guys like Mark "go ahead, strike me out, I know you can" Bellhorn… well, it's enough to make a girl throw her baseball cap on the floor and kick it across the room.

But I missed the Sox, I missed the ups and downs and inside outs of the game. Oh sure, I spent some time in Pawtucket and Lowell as a way to remind myself of what players who actually care about playing look like - but it really isn't the same thing.

So today, instead of selling my ticket, I headed into Fenway for one of my afternoon "indulgences." Ahh… to watch a game without a kid up my backside - the luxury of it all defies words.

Today was a good day and not just because we won. The weather, while hot, was good. There was a nice breeze and the infield grand stands were under cover, so it was comfortable. I ended up surrounded by real fans - people who watched the minors and could tell the players without a program, my favorite kinds of fans.

Today was one of my typical game days as I showed up early to try and get an autograph for the kids I left at home (or, in this case, at camp) and today I came up with some pay dirt. Curt Schilling came along canvas alley signing for kids only. I yelled out that it was for my son, but he passed me by so I ran down the row and got ahead of him. When a kid shoved something out but didn't have a pen, Schilling took mine and signed the kid's thing and then my son's hat. I walked away knowing that nothing was going to top that for my youngest.

I showed my buddy, Bob, one of the ushers over by field box 18. We joked around a little before I headed up to my seat. I have to say a word here about Bob and his co-workers. I adore this guy. When I slipped and fell heading for canvas alley a while back, he was one of the first there to try and help me up. This is a guy who's been around the park for quite some time and has the stories to tell about it as well - but doesn't because he's making sure that everyone is finding their seats and comfortable. He takes a lot of abuse from people who are over the top (usually the drunks who sneak down into the box seats and are reluctant to give them up when the person with the ticket appears) and yet year after year, he is there with his towel and his smile making sure we have a "pleasant day" at Fenway. So folks, let me end this digression with reminding you to let the folks at Fenway know when you run into guys like Bob and how well they've done their job. We complain fast enough - we need to compliment twice as fast.

Now back to your irregularly scheduled observations of the game.

If I had one thing to say to the upper management team is that throwing out the first pitch is getting ridiculous. Today was a guy who's company raised a bunch of money for charity (gee that's nice, but is it as nice as a kid who gives up his allowance?), the Nutcracker advertising that the Boston Ballet will be performing at the newly restored Opera House this year and JP Villamon's kids.

Sorry Theo - your guys screwed up on this. Villamon's kids should have been the only ones out there today. You weakened the honor of a damn good broadcaster's memory with an advertiser and a money guy.

One of the advantages of sitting with fans is that they can fill you in on what you missed when you're in line for something. They're also the guys that get creative in their heckling. None of the standard "you suck" stuff - not the guys I was in with today. These are the guys yelling stuff to Halama like "How do you score 'choke'?"

Now, I like Halama, he's a class act who really strikes me as a good and decent man. He's the type of guy a mother likes to hold up as what a professional should be, but he's got to get back in the groove or he'll be joining Embree in calling the real estate agent to put his place on the market. (Alan, keep your base around the corner from my friend Tom's house and your kids in school around here and commute during the season…. please, I beg you.)

Of course this brings me back to a general observation that lead to the abuse of my poor hat. The Sox seem to be in and out of their groove lately. Wells pitched a good game, but something seemed off. Even Damon admitted it the other night when he was talking about how his bat just didn't feel right during his streak. I know they'll find their groove and settle back in, they're the Red Sox. I just hope it's soon - I don't think my hat could take another beating.

Why Raffy is a Hall of Famer

I have never been a huge Rafael Palmeiro fan. Not that I disliked the man, but in an age of more exciting, more marketable superstars he was never a guy who’s poster I would have put up on my wall. Most of us youngsters growing up during Raffy’s heydays with the Texas Rangers and Baltimore Orioles were pre-occupied with more marketable stars like Ken Griffey Junior, Frank Thomas and of course my boy Mikey Piazza. Rafael Palmeiro has been just one steady, consistent rock of a ball-player. He is now one of only four player to have hit 500 home runs and 3,000 hits. Think about that. If you missed the last two weeks, and had to pick which current superstar had just achieved that plateau, most people wouldn’t choose Palmeiro. He’s known more for his role as a Viagra spokesman than as a hall-of-fame candidate, but that is exactly what he is.

The first thing hanging over him is the steroid allegations (especially after he was named in Jose Canseco’s "book"). I don’t see how any player can be punished by steroid allegations. Regardless of how obvious steroid use may seem to US, without hard physical evidence against these Mark McGwire’s or Sammy Sosa’s, the hall-of-fame must consider them. I realize a lot of fans don’t agree with me, and some arrogant writers this spring even went so far as to say that Roger Maris should be re-instated as the home run king, (even after they wrote articles in 1998 about how great McGwire was, ie. RICK REILLY). All of these ball-players should be guilty until proven innocent, and unfortunately for McGwire, it may cost him the hall, which is a tragedy.

I think the largest problem facing Raffy is that he’s not a big name star. He’s never led a team on a pennant drive (although that’s not really that important anymore) and although he has two 47 home run seasons to his credit, he has never been in serious consideration for any MVP awards (to my knowledge). Part of his problem is he constantly played his career in other player’s shadows. In Texas he was under the shadow of players like Ruben Sierra, Juan Gonzalez and Ivan Rodriguez. In Baltimore he had to deal with being a second fiddle to Cal Ripken Jr. and Roberto Alomar. Even in college he was the second fiddle to Will Clark.

Compare Palmeiro’s numbers to another player who has had hall of fame talk and is a known superstar, Frank Thomas. Thomas has a career batting average of .307 with a career OPS of .995, he has 2,134 hits, 447 home runs, and 1,464 RBI’s.
Raffy’s numbers are: a career average of .289, OPS of 887, 3,004 hits, 567 home runs and 1,827 RBI’s. Palmeiro played in 2, 811 games, while Thomas has 1,956 games to his credit.
I think these numbers basically even out, and Thomas will probably reach the level that Palmeiro is at now before he retires. So my point is, why would Thomas then be considered a legitimate hall-of-fame candidate, when Palmeiro is not? Whenever a milestone such as 3,000 hits comes up, there are plenty of columns and opinions that fire out about that particular player. I wanted to contribute to this, simply because I don’t feel Palmeiro was getting the love he deserves and I wanted to make things right by a real classy ball player.

In the subject of "we should have kicked them when they were down" we venture to the New York Yankees. Due to Boston and Baltimore both playing mediocre baseball as of late, New York has been able to slink and creep their way back into the AL East division race. Going into tonight’s action, the Yankees were only a half game behind the Red Sox; although hopefully the Red Sox can do some damage to the "AAA" Tampa Bay Devil Rays. I bring this up for one important reason, this weekend’s 17-1 Red Sox blow out of the Yankees. Lately, it has seemed that every time one team blows about another in this rivalry, the winning team embarks on a slide. It happened in the playoffs last year, and it happened to the Yankees again this year. This makes me worry that the Red Sox might start a slide, and with Baltimore and Toronto not really impressing lately, The Yankees, after all their seasons struggles, may be able to build themselves a lead in the AL east, and after that all bets are off. All I can say is, this week, let’s go Texas!

YS.com AOL Chat

What?: This is a online chat to talk about the Red Sox vs Yankees game tonight.

CLICK CONTINUE READING TO FIND OUT HOW TO GET IN!

Where?: The official YankeesSuck.com: Red Sox vs Yankees Chat will be on AOL or AOL Instant Messenger.

How?: Go to your buddy list.
Right-Click on yourself if you are on it. If you aren't, add yourself then proceed.
After you right-click, click on "send chat invitation".
Type the chat room name "yankssox" without the quotations
You should be there.

When?: Game time is 1, if you'd join around 12:30 to get some pre-game talk going, that would be fine.

Note: I am in the chat right now but I will not be talking during the game as I will be watching the game at another location.

Shaken and Stirred

Finally – if only temporarily – Red Sox fans can rejoice about Keith Foulke. In an announcement that warranted a collective "Duh!" from Boston fans, the team’s closer has finally been put on the disabled list. The same day Boston Globe columnist Bob Ryan proclaimed Foulke to be "transcendently horrible," Manager Terry Francona explained that the struggling pitcher will undergo arthroscopic surgery to correct a knee problem.

If the unveiling of Foulke’s injury was not enough cause for celebration, the Red Sox also announced that Curt Schilling will fill the void as the team’s temporary closer. His expectedly short stint out of the bullpen is intended to provide the necessary rehab for his full return as a starter. Mike Timlin, Boston’s only solid reliever this season, is also projected to help share the closing duties.

For a closer of his stature, Foulke has blown far too many save opportunities this season, and Red Sox fans have been calling for his demotion for many weeks now. Timlin, who currently holds a stellar E.R.A. of 1.73, was the other obvious choice for a replacement. There is also talk that Bronson Arroyo and Schilling may switch spots once the veteran power pitcher is ready to open a game.

As the July 31 trade deadline grows near, Sox fans have been waiting for General Manager Theo Epstein to patch up the team’s relief pitching. Theo’s shakeups started last week by trading backup infielder Ramon Vazquez for Cleveland infielder Alex Cora. Epstein also called up (the maybe overly anticipated) speedy outfielder Adam Stern, fresh off the disabled list. Both Cora and Stern started for Boston last night in Baltimore.

Unfortunately, in order to make way for the two new additions, the Red Sox designated outfielder Jay Payton for assignment. Although Payton was a great asset as a compliment to leftfielder Trot Nixon, he stated that he was unhappy serving the team as simply a backup. Epstein now has ten days to either trade or release the outfielder. We can only hope that Payton’s bat and glove will be enough incentive to acquire competent relievers.

With Epstein at the helm of the team’s personnel, it should not surprise anyone to see even more movement within the Red Sox roster. By trading Nomar Garciaparra midway through last season, the general manager proved he has the balls to do what is in the best interest of the team (and we all know where last season’s trades took us.)

Despite the team’s narrow first place stature, fans should be brimming with excitement over the possibilities of a Foulke-less bullpen anchored by Schilling. Do not fear the almost inevitable good-bye to a player or two (could Kevin Millar really be dealt?), for a trade by Theo is bound to turn out right in the end. In the meantime, send Keith Foulke some flowers and a card telling him to take his time recovering; arthroscopic knee surgery is no joke.

The first half of the season has been filled with flourishes by the Red Sox. It’s finally time to put it all together. So, sit back, revel in Boston’s All-Star game representatives, and get pumped for what should be a great ride into October.

{Facts from mlb.com and a Boston Globe article from July 6 were used in this article.}

Lessons through the All-Star Break

Baseball has been teaching us some lessons this year. This season has been full of ups, downs and surprises. The White Sox and The Nationals have been two of the seasons more pleasant surprises, while the Yankees and the Athletics have really had disappointing seasons (for their fans of course). I would like to highlight some great player performances, as well as anything I deem newsworthy (too bad if you don’t).

Derek Lee. Sportscasters addicted to the first letter, first part of last name fiasco (V-Mart, A-Rod, I-Rob, etc.) have named him D-Lee. He has inspired some Triple Crown talk (and some classic flip-flopping on Pardon the Interruption). It is refreshing to see him (and Brian Roberts of Baltimore) having break out seasons that can finally not be blamed on steroids. However, many people have pointed to Lee playing far over his career numbers and are waiting for him to come back to earth.

The Ex-Expos. Who would have ever thought that Montreal’s refuge would suddenly become a division leader. Their success has been a GREAT story in baseball this year and I hope their success continues. Frank Robinson is probably one of the best managers in baseball and he finally has the ability to take a team to the playoffs. The Nationals are looking to add some quality players before the trading deadline.

The collapse of perennial contenders San Francisco, New York, Oakland and Atlanta.Although it could be argued that Atlanta has not collapsed, they must quickly turn around if they wish to continue their division championship streak in baseball’s most competitive division this year. They have a multitude of injuries and if the Marlins ever get their hitting going, they will have trouble holding on to that number two spot. Oakland has been horrendous this year, starting right at the top with slugger Eric Chavez and ace Barry Zito. Both have been very weak this year and Chavez is one of three third basemen (or fantasy guys who qualify at 3B) who are having terrible years, along with Mike Lowell and Aubrey Huff. San Francisco has proven that they have been a one-man team for years without Barry Bonds. Not having Bonds has caused them to collapse, although his return could spark a run in that weak NL West.

The Yankees struggles have been well documented on this website and the general media. Frankly it comes from having a team too top heavy without solid prospects or back-ups, and a razor thin pitching staff. The Yankees have gone from popular World Series pick this year, to a fledgling team in trouble of making the playoffs (I keep hoping the Jays will be able to leap ahead of them). It could be quite a few years before the Yanks are able to regain their dominance, simply because of long-term, big-money contracts.

The Gambler doesn’t know when to fold them. Kenny Rogers was the biggest story of last week, after his attack on a cameraman. I feel that every time an incident like this happens, the media blows it way out of proportion. I think this is the media’s way of protecting their own. They go out of their way to make an athlete look terrible in the public light and heap criticism on them. Sometimes, while I do not condone the actions, I really feel for the player. Everyone has a bad day. Many members of the media (I am thinking of a certain ESPN television personality who is burning) are simply there for shock value. These reporters (who are not the majority) will taunt players and push their buttons, only to get a rise out of them (or even a lawsuit). I don’t know if this happened in the Rogers situation, but I think the media needs to lay off this guy and give him a break.

Small ball is back! The White Sox have been baseball’s most successful team this half year based on the staples, pitching, base running, hitting and defense. In the age of steroids, home runs and Moneyball, you have seen teams shying away from this approach. Everything in sports is cyclical. You may see more teams, with reduced resources focusing more on these staples rather than swinging for the fences. You only need to score more runs than your opponents to win, it doesn’t matter who many more.

And the last thing baseball has taught us this year, is that we don’t know anything about baseball. Many teams and players have played much better or much worse than expected, and no one expected it. Derek Lee and Brian Roberts are both all-star starters when they are playing miles over their head. The Nats are up, The A’s are down and we don’t know why. This season has been full of surprises, and I am enjoying it.

Hope everybody enjoys the mid-summer classic and keep having a great summer!

Why I care

While watching the rain-shortened game the other night, one of the boys asked me a simple question: "Why do you care so much?"

It's a hard question to answer - why do I care so much? I'm not on the team, I don't make money if they win (or lose) and it's not as if I have any close friends or family members playing - so why do I care so much? In some ways, it's like asking, "Why is the sky blue?" I know it has to do with light refraction and various principles of physics and light and stuff - but it's all Greek to me.

So I gave him the simple answer: because I do.

But it is worth thinking about - why do I care so much? In order to answer it I have to take a couple of steps back in time. It goes deeper than the Zen concept of the back and forth duels with no clock and rhythms that ebb and flow. It goes deeper than spiritual metaphors that people often pull out of their hats.

It goes back to the bond between a sister and a brother. I tell the story of how my brother - the same one who began calling me Karlsie - put me in a box and said, "There's your box seat, now shut up and watch the game," got me started. And he did. But there was something about being able to watch the game with my brothers and dad on a summer afternoon that felt like… well, like belonging. Even though I was a girl in a time when girls didn't play baseball, weren't allowed in little league and were expected to grow up to be wives and mommies - baseball felt good and right. Even then, always aware of my gender, I didn't watch the way boys could justify - but I watched enough to be able to talk baseball and trade cards intelligently so I knew which players (other than the Yankees) to clip to my bike wheels and which ones to save.

It was the only sandlot game that, when choosing up sides, I was the first one picked instead of the last. When most girls dreamed of being ballerinas and nurses, I wanted to be a catcher for the Sox and hear Sherm Feller (of blessed memory) call my name over the loudspeaker at Fenway introducing me to the cheers of the crowd. It wasn't part of the growing feminism movement going around me. I didn't want to be the first woman to play for the Sox, I just wanted to play for the Sox. When I was 12 and my mother gave me a boy cut after gum got stuck in my hair, one of the kids on my street wanted me to sign up for his little league team as "Karl." I was scared my parents would catch me and there'd be hell to pay, it never occurred to me that every coach in town knew my parents and wouldn't be fooled by leaving the final "a" off my name in spite of my childish body and short hair.

Of course girls had softball, but I got tired of constantly saying, "It's not the same thing." I finally gave up after a while and kept my love of baseball quiet. When '75 rolled around, it was a new age. Women were going to college and climbing career ladders. Title IX was kicking into effect and it was a brave, new world. I no longer had to keep my love of baseball secret.

Through the rest of high school, in college and adult life, I could go to Fenway with my friends and watch the games with a couple of beers and yell at the TV and no one said "boo" to me. The little girl who was slightly ahead of her time finally found that place of belonging that I discovered on those weekend afternoons in the summer with my brothers and dad.

I never knew the gender of my babies until they were born. I figured it was an exercise in patience - after all, what's nine months when stacked against the rest of my life? So when people would ask, "What do want?" I would reply "a starting short stop for the Sox."

"So you want a boy."

"I didn't say that."

Yes, it confused people - but there were others who just smiled and understood at the pregnancy classes. For his first holidays, I bought my son his first baseball glove - a soft fabric mitt with a Velcro covered ball. My (then) husband shook his head and said, "I will not have you push this child into your dream." He was not a baseball fan and he wanted a jazz musician.

When I was pregnant with my second and people asked what I wanted, I replied, "The second part of the 6-4-3 double play combination."

The year both boys were on the Red Sox, their coach put the oldest as short and his brother on second so I could honestly see my boys start as part of the 6-4-3 combo for the Sox.

I never played ball with the kids in the backyard. I did keep on them about practicing when they took clarinet, violin and sax. It wasn't until my oldest boy's last year in Little League that I actually got involved as more than a team mom. I would hit fungos to the kids that showed up early so they could work on their fielding. One day my son asked why I hadn't practiced with him like that all along and that was one I could answer: "Because I wanted you to live your dreams, not mine."

On the day of game four of the World Series, the two youngest boys had a brotherly spat that went that hair too far and blood was drawn. I arrived in the waiting room of the local ER with the older of the two waiting to see if there was real damage there. My Pi-guy was snuggled up to me in the waiting room when the game started. He immediately stood up, took his hat off and placed it over his heart for the National Anthem and yelled, "Play Ball" at the end - much to the delight of the other patients and staff there. When the nurse called us back, she made sure to put us in a room with a TV so we could watch the game together while waiting for the harried doctors.

The doctor entered the room, turned off the TV and immediately my son and I let out a cry of protest. He looked and said, "It's just a baseball game, why do you care so much?"

"It's history," my son replied. "If they win tonight, it's history."

The doctor shook his head and examined my son. When he left to touch base with the specialist on call, we turned the game back on. The specialist came in, examined my son and they discussed the game during the examination. He asked my son who his favorite player was ("Duh, that's easy - Tek and Nixon!") and all those sorts of questions. He decided my son needed some antibiotics, but not stitches and looked at him and said, "Do you think you're well enough to go home?"

"I will be in about an hour."

The doctor looked up and saw what inning it was, smiled and said, "You can go home at the change of innings and listen in the car. You don't live that far away. When you grow up, what position do you want to play?"

"My mom wanted me to be a second baseman, but I want to be the catcher - it's the best job on the team."

I had never told my boys about how I wanted to be a catcher when I grew up - I don't even own a catcher's mitt in spite of having my last glove (Mickey Mantle signature Rawlings) from when I was his age. In that moment, the connection I felt with things came full circle. Here was my baby who had been through hell over the years with his kidney problems and all that went with it and he wanted to be a catcher. I almost started crying like the girl I am - but instead I just managed a smile and hugged him.

The boys get along like brothers. The oldest gave up on baseball a couple of years ago when he realized he played the game for fun but kids his age play for blood. He's entered the second phase of fandom, the "I don't care and it doesn't hurt as much" phase. He took up running and excels at it. I can't say I'm surprised as he was the kid who couldn't connect with the ball, but when he got on base, the other coaches worried because, if you blinked, he was on third and was never picked off when he stole. The middle one aged out of the system last year and is thinking about going out for the middle school team or playing lacrosse - he can't make up his mind. He still wants to go to Little League camp for 13-15 year olds next summer in Pennsylvania and maybe going back to Bristol as a counselor in a couple of years. His younger brother just played his last year of Little League but really wants to be a pitcher next year.

The other day I overheard the two of them talking. "Perhaps we can be a dynamic duo - you on the mound, me behind the plate - that really makes the other teams shake in their shoes."

"That would be pretty cool."

I often pull out the quote, "It was if something came and took me by the hand and said, 'I am baseball, come with me,'" to answer that why I care question. I have been known to say, "I can't help it, it's genetic." In the end, I realize that it is a deeper thing that spans across generations and wraps us in its arms.

I have never switched loyalties and the Sox are part of the reason I chose to stay and settle in Boston after college instead of moving to DC. They are as much a part of me as my eye and hair color. I care because they are the Sox and they are mine… win or lose.

So yes, if they lose it's a shame - but today, I'm hoping for the win.

Honoring a Fallen Hero

Baseball is meant to take our minds off the horrors of the world. Maj. Steve Reich was no exception.

Reich had carried the American flag while representing Team USA in 1993 at the World University games on a team that also included current major leaguers Paul Wilson, Todd Helton, Todd Walker and Dustin Hermanson. He pitched briefly in the Baltimore Orioles system in 1996 before the military recalled him to active duty.

Helton, now a first baseman for the Colorado Rockies, remembered Reich as "one of the nicest guys I ever met."

However, last week Reich was shot down in Eastern Afghanistan with 15 other U.S. soldiers in a helicopter.

Reich, 34, was on his fourth tour of duty. He had been a company commander in the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment at Hunter Army Airfield, Ga., and had been married just four months earlier.

His awards and decorations include the Bronze Star, the Meritorious Service Medal, the Army Commendation Medal, the Army Achievement Medal, the Joint Meritorious Unit Award, and the Senior Aviator, Airborne, and Air Assault Badges. He was posthumously awarded the Purple Heart, the Meritorious Service Medal, the Bronze Star Medal and an Air Medal with Valor device and the Combat Action Badge.

His life will be remembered at the town hall in Washington, CT this Sunday. In Washington, he is a role model, a hero, a son, and a baseball player.

July 10th, I will be personally connected to Reich. I have volunteered to perform the ceremonial "Taps" at his service. It will be an honor to perform this for such an honorable man.

Information from the AP was used in this article.

July!

Whenever I rub into Yankee fans faces' that their team is struggling in April, May, and June, I usually get, "It's only *insert month here,*" and a, "Wait 'till October!"

Well July is usually the time of the year when I can't say that anymore, and usually around the All Star break. Well this year I can safely say that I will be able to face Yankee fans well after the All Star break.

The Red Sox are poised to win the AL East but not just because they have been playing great baseball. The Baltimore Orioles have struggled in June, losing 15 games. They were on top of the AL East by 3 games a few weeks ago. Now they are on the opposite end, looking up at the Red Sox down by 2.5 games.

Time will tell if the Baltimore Orioles will have an Atlanta Braves attitude. The Orioles are hurting and need to step up if they want to play with the big spenders. Tim Hudson, Mike Hampton and Chipper Jones, three key members of the Braves are out, they are 4.5 games out of the NL East, yet they are leading the Wild Card race. The Orioles are without Javy Lopez, Erik Bedard and BJ Surhoff. Recently, Steve Kline lost his cool with an umpire and is now suspended 4 games, further hindering the Oriole roster.

The Yankees are in an even bigger hole. Looking at the Red Sox down by 6 games. Good news for the Yankee fans is that they are at least over .500. Bad news is that Gary Sheffield is causing trouble in the clubhouse and Cashman is looking to move the big bat to other teams. The NY Post recently posted a supposedly proposed trade that would have sent Sheffield to the Mets and Mike Cameron to the Yankees. Sheffield followed up with complaints (like usual) and threats, which he is been accustomed to do lately. Sheffield's complaints include telling reporters that he will not try on a team other than the Yankees. Sheffield has also been suspended 2 games for throwing his helmet and getting up into a first-base umpires' face and screaming. Classy, indeed.

Also recently, the Yankees designated experienced relievers Mike Stanton and Paul Quantrill for assignment. And in a matter of weeks, will be released from the team or traded.

July will only tell if the Yankees desperate moves will help or further handicap the Yankees. Jaret Wright and Kevin Brown should both come off the DL in the July and will be important for their stretch run. However, Kevin Brown hasn't been known to exactly help the Yankees (See: Wall punching incident). But Wright who was their best pitcher up until going on the DL will probably help the Yankees.

At the end of July we will know if the Yankees will rise to the occasion or choke, like their 2004 predecessors (well, not as bad as that but you get the point). With a tough schedule for the rest of the year, the AL East will be less than likely to produce the Wild Card this year, which will make the Pennant chase even more exciting towards September and into October.

Explaining the game to the cat

There's an old philosophy among the early generations of computer programs: before starting any new project - try explaining it to your cat. With that in mind, and a bottle (or few) of Mike's hard lime in hand, last night; I sat down and tried to explain baseball to the cat.

Yes, I am one of those idiot cat owners who converse with her cat. Further, after enough Mike's, I start to understand what she's saying as well. You have to understand, I have the most beautiful cat in the world and she usually watches the games with me - that's how she is. But she never really paid attention - so I figured I'd help explain some of the finer points of the game to her as I watched and maybe she'd take more interest. And, for a while, it worked.

Of course, her questions tended to be along the lines of: What the hell is that thing on Doug Mirabelli's chin? Did a caterpillar die there on its way to eat the New Hampshire foliage? What's with Toronto's uniforms - they're almost as pitiful as that sleeveless look some teams are going for these days. Why do baseball players spit so much?

She did ask me one huge question that still has me pondering: if you're making a million five a year in the lower 48 and get traded to Canada, do they adjust your salary to account for the exchange rate? What about if you get traded to the lower 48 - do they adjust accordingly as well?

In the meantime, I answered the questions I could - such as why batters step out of the box so frequently. Sometimes it's to look for the signal and other times it's to throw off the pitcher's timing. At one point, I asked her my favorite trivia question: who is the only man to have played for the Red Sox, Celtics and Bruins? John Kiley, the organist. She then gave me that look that only a cat can give and told me to the leave the trivia to the announcers and notice how Matt Clement must be a cat owner as he practiced cat breathing on the mound during some of the close ups. Of course, that was before he totally lost it and they brought in Meyers to give up a grand slam with two out in the 6th.

We discussed the possibility of a Sheffield trade. Her attitude was: Florida's too good for him - he deserves to be in Kansas City or maybe he'd be better suited to Texas where lashing out at the fans isn't unusual. We both decided these damn Zen ads are a cruel thing to do to people - who gets the damn Ricoh ads anyway? The Infinity ads - well you expect a certain Zen-like quality, after all, this is a car line that was launched with a series of ads of haiku being read over artful, serene shots of water dripping into a pond and such. Even then, now we know what the hell it is, enough with the Zen.

I wondered where Francona's 4-color pen went to. (Terry, if you need a new one, I have a couple of blue barrel 4-colors at home - just drop me a line and I'll run it over to Fenway for you later today.) She agreed with me that whoever came up with the idea of the 30 second theme song as someone comes up to bat should be beaten senseless before we jump up and down on them. It wouldn't surprise either of us if this is really MLB's next cash venture: download your favorite player's theme song; click here for a 30 second preview and show your team loyalty with an MLB sanctioned credit card with your team's logo.

She was overjoyed that the Big Unit is demonstrating that we got the better half of the old Diamondbacks Dynamic Duo of Schilling and Johnson and suggested maybe, just maybe, the Sox bullpen shouldn't act as though the game is over once they took a big hit. She stared me down with the thought, "Imagine a little league team being shellacked in a similar fashion. Don't they find something to get mad at or something to drive them so that they at least make it look like they care?"

Finally, by the 7th inning, she had enough and turned her back on the game. I hate to admit it, but when the score hit 15-1, so did I. The Mike's was gone, it was late and I had spent the day on the road driving to Bristol to pick up the youngest at Little League camp. I don't normally turn in early, but I was starting to doze off in the chair waiting for yet another Sox pitcher to take the mound and warm up.

I took off the green rubber wrist band I purchased earlier in the day that had the words of the Little League credo on there: character, courage, loyalty. Sometimes I think that you should hang the credo as well as the motto: I will play fair and strive to win, but win or lose, I will always do my best; in the Sox bull pen.

The cat knows, they should have remembered it last night. She hasn't given up yet though. Tonight we're watching the game - this time with some Mike's lemonade to see if a different taste help the Sox play a different tune.