Finally...the Playoffs!!!

There is no other time of year I enjoy more at Fenway Park than October.  While many members of Red Sox Nation complained last year about the TBS commentators and coverage overall, I was sitting in my right field box seats, watching the Sox destroy the Los Angeles Angels of Aneheim (playing in Orange County, in the state of California, United States of America, planet Earth in the Milky Way Galaxy).  It was not until watching Game 3 of the ALDS that I felt everyone's pain. 

Playoffs at Fenway mean more excitement, louder crowds, flyovers, The Dropkick Murphy's and (oh yeah), concentration on the game of baseball.  It is rare we do the wave.  People are there to watch the game and cheer on the Olde Towne Team, not to sing Sweet Caroline (don't get me wrong, I love Sweet Caroline in the 8th inning...but it's not the primary reason I show up to games).  The game matters...people talk about pitching around a batter, stealing a base or pinch hitters.  There is little talk about marriage proposals, or birthdays and no questions during the seventh inning stretch ("I thought THIS is when they played Sweet Caroline?!?!?!").

I have been accused by more than one of my friends of being a "season ticket snob."  This is a term I welcome with open arms; I go to the games to have fun, to sit among my fellow members of Red Sox Nation and to watch the game.  If the media room at Fenway Park decided to go back to all organ music, or take away the jumbo-tron screen, I would still show up.  If Aramark stopped selling hot dogs and beer, I would still be in my seats (ok, that might be a deal breaker).

Playoffs to me mean the fans who show up to Fenway for the "experience" go home.  They casually watch the game while reading a book, or check the web the next day to see if they won.  I do not begrudge these fans their Fenway experience, and certainly they are part of the reason The Red Sox have broken the all time record for consecutive sell-outs.  I also will not degrade these fans by referring to them as "The Pink Hats;" it has been my experience these fans wear all sorts of different hats, and come in both male and female form.  However, it is now time for the fans at the park to focus on the game, time for all the season ticket holders to come back to the park and not give (or sell) their tickets. 

My desire for the playoffs to start usually begins around the end of August.  It is at this point many of the "Fenway Experience" fans are able to get tickets and make it to a game.  By mid-September, I usually utter at least twice a game, "I cannot wait for the playoffs to start!"  This usually occurs after someone sitting near me wonders why they are playing that song AGAIN when Jason Veritek comes up to bat.  And I am not lying about people asking why they didn't play Sweet Caroline during the seventh inning stretch; the question is asked about 4 or 5 times a season, and almost always in September.

So go ahead, call me a snob.  Just don't call my cell phone unless it's between innings.

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I can say with complete honesty I have never booed a former member of the Red Sox when they return to Fenway Park playing for another team.  I cheered Mo Vaughn (well, I would have if I wasn't sick the first time he returned to Fenway), neither cheered nor booed for Johnny Damon, cheered Pedro Martinez and stood to applaud Roger Clemens as we walked off the mound for what we all assumed would be his last appearance at Fenway Park.  The closest I ever came to booing a player is every time Kevin Millar came to bat once he began to play for the Baltimore Orioles (For the record, I think I almost booed him when he played with the Sox!  I couldn't stand him when he was with the Red Sox, and still can't stand him now).  I will boo some players:  Barry Bonds got an earful from me (along with 37,000 other fans) each time he came to bat when the Giants came to Boston.  But I have never been one to complain when players choose to play somewhere else.  If someone offered me a 30% raise to do the same job I do now in another city, I would jump at the chance.

However, this non-booing of former Red Sox policy may fly out the window the next time the Red Sox play against Manny Ramirez.  I bought into the idea of "Manny being Manny" more times than I would care to admit.  I laughed at some of his antics, and cried when he didn't run hard to first base.  I accepted with a wink and a nod when Manny did something stupid; he could hit the ball, and hit it well.  So long as he keeps doing that, we can put up with the rest.

His comments to T.J. Simmers of the L.A. Times, published on Sunday, have caused me to second guess giving former players the silent treatment.  Among other comments, he blames the Boston media for his problems here, and said he would have liked to have brought his kids to the park, but someone would have wanted to interview them.

He went on to admit that he now "runs out everything" in L.A., implying that this was not always the case at Fenway.  Maybe Joe Torre has shown him the light, but this is inexcusable.  "That's just people looking for stuff," was Manny's excuse as to why it was such an issue in Boston. 

You're right, Manny, we were looking for stuff.  We were looking for you to play the game the way it is supposed to be played.  We wanted you to give it your all everyday, not just the days you felt like it.  We loved to watch you launch home-runs over the Green Monster, but we would have loved a few infield singles as well. 

Truth be told, Manny has way too much talent for playing the game of baseball for it to be wasted.  I hope Manny has figured it out, and continues to hit the ball for the next four or five years.  But sorry Manny, you may be the very first former member of the Boston Red Sox I vocally show my displeasure towards.  I might have a change of heart if you show up here in the Spring, but if it's a Dodgers vs. Red Sox World Series, all bets are off.