Charles Bisbee's Boston Red Sox fan blog

There’s been a lot of griping recently over the state of Boston sports, serving (for me) as another ugly reminder of the developing, spoiled and cocksure nature of fans in this area. Let’s take a quick look, shall we?

Despite not  having played superbly of late, the Celtics stand at 31-16 and hold a five-and-a-half game lead in their division over Toronto.  

The Patriots finished the season at 10-6 (and a perfect 8-0 at home) and lost in the conference semi-finals to Baltimore.

The line between the Red Sox and Yankees is becoming more blurred each year (I know, I know, blasphemous!). But the Sox pay more and more to rob smaller market teams of their best players. Last year they finished 95-67 and, again, made the playoffs.

The Bruins are apparently stinking up then Garden this year but last year made a nice push into the playoffs.

Continue reading "A Message to Boston Sports Fans"

Oh man, it’s been a bit too long and I’d like to apologize, first and foremost, to my legion of loyal readers. Who still checks in on occasion? Rogers? You still out there? Bark twice if you’re in Milwaukee!  Slim Bob? Herman? Dalton? Petey? Reginald? David Lefort from the Boston Globe? Fat chance of that… bastard…  Am I writing to myself here? Hello?

Anyway, lets talk sports. Or perhaps, I will talk sports with myself. Either way, it should be a good time.

During the past week, the Sox allowed Alex Gonzalez to stroll north of the boarder via free agency and then nabbed the man A-Gon will be replacing in Toronto, Marco Scutaro. As far as shortstop swaps go, this move has been widely praised as a coupe. Not only is Scutaro, seemingly, a superior offensive player but he also comes with a pristine reputation as a team-first, winning player. (On another note, I find it equally amusing and sickening that the Sox will pay more money to Julio Lugo to NOT play for them next season than they will pay Scutaro).

Continue reading "Checking In... And Talking Sox Shortstop Situation"

Earlier today, the Celtics awarded point guard Rajon Rondo with a 5-year contract extension believed to be in the neighborhood of $55 million. I like Rondo as a player but I’m a bit concerned about banking the future on a mercurial 23-year-old hot shot with a burgeoning prima donna complex and a history of instigating senseless scuffles.

Critics say Rondo lacks a consistent jump shot but I disagree. He’s basically money with that 15-20 foot baseline jumper. He’s not a three-point shooter but the C’s already have Ray, Pierce and Rasheed chucking the long ball on a regular basis. Furthermore, with Rondo’s speed, jump shots should be used as a last option anyway.  

What primarily concerns me is Rondo’s attitude and potentially divisive personality. During the course of his three-year career, he has engaged in numerous (and mostly pointless) altercations with other players. In addition, word is he is aloof from teammates and generally unresponsive to coaching or advice. That Danny Ainge and Doc Rivers actively shopped him this past off-season should speak volumes about management’s doubts and concerns. While supremely talented (I would rank him among the top-five point guards in the league), I think the C’s should have waited for the season to play out before making this kind of commitment to such a young and generally unproven player.

Continue reading "C's Banking on Rondo"

Its recently been brought to my attention that, over the past couple of weeks or so, my readership has doubled in volume, from 2 to 4. Thanks to these good natured and sympathetic followers, I’m left to wrestle with a serious question: Do I quit while on top (never had I anticipated the blog becoming this great a success), or do I continue to dribble out these “bi-weekly” blunderbusses, even though there is likely nowhere to go from here but down?

I’ll continue…

Lets see… The Red Sox lost. It was a rough series. I was in San Francisco, missed most of it. Jonathan Papelbon is a turkey, Daniel Bard is the second coming of Rod Beck (‘90s Rod Beck, minus the mullet and a metric ton, give or take). Lets can Pap, keep Bard and save everyone from another year of Pap’s guido shenanigans…. The Celtics won a pre-season game against Toronto the other night and Tommy Heinsohn almost invited an unknown rookie named Lester Hudson to the altar. Should be another interesting season for the C’s, provided Tommy is allowed to pursue his increasingly befuddling tangents, wherever they may take him… I’m mildly afraid for the Patriots this week. The Titans are not a 0-5 team, regardless of what their record might indicate. This is the exact same team (minus Albert “Stomp-On-Your-Face” Haynesworth) that went 10-0 to begin the season last year. And they have Jeff Fisher patrolling the sidelines, who, aside from looking like a 70’s highway cop, also happens to be a damn fine coach.   

Continue reading "Late Night Rant"

Frankly, I never liked her much to begin with. Last night, though, Serena Williams' boorish display put her on that rare pedestal with the king of self-delusion, Roger Clemens, as far as sheer idiocy and misplaced machismo is concerned. Williams may or may not have foot-vaulted during match point of her semi-final match against Kim Clijsters yesterday at the U.S. Open. What should be un-debatable is that her obscene and ridiculous death threat directed toward the unsuspecting lines-woman following the questionable call was the most gross and uncalled for display by a professional athlete this year. Please, don't twist this into some skewed positive, claiming that Serena showed us her true passion for the game last night. This was a terrible event in front of thousands of spectators and millions watching from home. Really ugly. 

Continue reading "Serena Out of Control"

When I was a lad growing up in suburban Massachusetts I idolized Michael Jordan. I'd do the whole "3 seconds on the clock, Jordan takes the ball up the court..." shabang while shooting hoops in the driveway (the difference being that most of my buzzer-beaters were clangs). If MJ had told me to wear my skivvies on my head to school one day I probably would have done so.

By the time I turned 15 or so, though, I realized that Jordan wasn't much without a basketball in his hands. I realized that he did next to nothing off the court unless it was to market or promote some product aimed toward his own financial gain. Jordan the public figure, I determined, equalled butkis. I've pretty much held this opinion ever since his (final?) retirement following the 2003 season. 

Continue reading "Jordan Impresses in Heartfelt HOF Acceptance Speech"

The main problem with Brett Favre’s ongoing retirement-waffling situation, aside from its sheer ridiculousness, is that it undermines the importance and value of training camp and the essential team building shenanigans that occur then and there.

Say what you will about Favre’s career, his past exploits and how he might have “earned” a little deferential treatment. I maintain that no player --not Lofa Tatupu, not even Y.A. Tittle-- should be allowed to stroll through the back door of a team's practice facility halfway through training camp, blindside two quarterbacks (who had been giving it their all since the beginning of July) and call into question the moral framework of an entire organization. Really, what message are the Vikings (and, specifically, Brad Childress) sending here? That it doesn’t matter how long and hard you train and work, if there’s an old geezer who doesn’t know when to say when, then you’d better be prepared to ride the pine? Favre single-handedly undercuts the team dynamic and, if I were a Vikings player (soon—I’m getting into shape), I’d have a difficult time trusting the organization from here on out. 

Continue reading "The Vikings Message"

David Ortiz is the latest in a fearsome lineup of would-be hall of famers to be dragged under the worn tarmac of performance-enhancing drug speculation. In keeping with the overall theme from my previous, related posts, I would advocate for the lifetime ban of this once-proud slugger (if proven guilty), as I would for any player caught cheating the national pastime. One day, when the smoke finally clears (whenever that day may be), Major League Baseball could be faced with a cold reality: maybe 90% of ballplayers juiced. Maybe Cal Ripken, Ken Griffey Jr., Albert Pujols, Greg Maddux, Rickey Henderson-maybe they all were cheaters.

If Bud Selig had the testicular fortitude to draw a line in the sand, he would have done so by now. Pete Rose is banished from the game for betting on his team to win games. And yet we slap blatant, omnipresent cheaters with 50 game suspensions? Manny Ramirez returns to Mannywood and is marketed just as feverishly as before his suspension? There is no consistency in Major League Baseball.

Continue reading "Initial Reaction to Ortiz Story"

There's been a less-than-pleasant bed bug infestation at the humble chateau de Bisbee/Duah. It began, as these things so often do, as a minor disturbance, a hole in the screen we thought, undoubtedly allowing in some pesky mosquitos. My negligence to nip the problem at the bud resulted in the realization of great bed bug civilizations, though, and a few nights ago I was roundly bludgeoned into a schizophrenic mess. I've remained this way since, basically-- sleeping on the living room floor while visions of human-sized arthropods and Hanley Ramirez batting lines dance through my head...

Anyway, forgive me if I write in a somewhat more-scatterbrained-than-usual fashion today. I've gotten enough sleep over the past three nights to be legally admitted into an asylum. This being said, here are some thoughts that, God-willing, might have something to do with tennis. 

Continue reading "Grumblings of a Senseless Insomniac/ Breaking Down Wimbledon"

Almost exactly a year ago I wrote and published my first blog in this here forum of journalistic excellence and opinionated sports debate. I recounted the pitfalls of a thoroughly disappointing Lakers-Celtics Finals, one that should have been steeped in drama, history and haymakers but was instead hampered by flops, bricks, and poor decision-making. I find it fitting to sit here on this most unceremonious of anniversaries (does anyone still read this? if you’re out there, send money) and begrudgingly opine on yet another, equally disappointing Finals. 

The Lakers thoroughly shellacked the Magic the other night to seal their 15th championship and catapult Phil Jackson, that opportunist of opportunists, past Red Auerbach on the all-time, championship list. I’d be remiss not to briefly point out what an insufferable pickle-eater Jackson is. The guy carved a hall of fame career by loitering around the likes of Michael, Shaq and Kobe (a trio you’d have to think a blind donkey could coach to some degree of success) and then he rewards himself with a self-indulgent yellow cap, highlighted with a Roman numeral “X”. God..

Continue reading "Another Disappointing Finals"