THE DAY AFTER
By IIH, IIF, IIc Secret Correspondent Shamus
CAMDEN, MAINE -- As the sun rises on Red Sox Nation this morning, I am reminded of a scene from one of those destruction movies, such as 'ID4', 'Cloverfield' or 'I am Legend.'
Cars are burning and overturned, bodies clad in Red Sox apparel lay motionless everywhere, and the distinct smell of raw pork hangs in the air.
Yes, fellow Yankees fans and readers, Red Sox Nation is in ruins, like the Romans at the end of their run, after Joaquin Phoenix killed his dad, Caesar, and wanted to sleep with his hotty sister.
I am eerily reminded of 2003, after getting punched in the mouth by that upstart, uppity southern Florida team, the Swordfish. Or Sea Bass. Whatever they hell they were called.
I specifically woke up at 5 am to listen to their desperate pleas fill the radio waves, as they call into the Big Jab (95.5 fm/ Portland Maine) and WEEI, aka Al-Soxzeera.
Some are near suicide. Some are in shock. Many are still drunk. On a troubling side note, with the economy in the dumper, last night didn't help one bit, b/c today none of them are going to their jobs at bars, strip clubs, McDonalds, trash collectors and plumbers. It seems all of RSN is taking the day off to lounge around the double-wide trailer and watch infomercials on NESN all day.
Some want Theo fired for his Manny debacle. Some want Tito Francona fired for his misuse of the pitching staff. Many are clamoring for them to sign and trade their way out of this nightmare.
You know its trouble when Sox fans are asking on broadcast radio if St. Louis would accept Coco Crisp, Mike Lowell and cash for Albert Pujols. Or if they can sign Peavy when he hits free agency next week.(I know, as well as you educated Yankees fans, Peavy could only be acquired via trade, but, I digress...)
I've even heard the impossible and imporbable: Sully, still hammered at 5:15 am, called WEEI while getting dressed to go to work as a trashman, and asked "what it would take for Manny to come back."
I know, I know. Things haven't been great for the Bronx Bombers since 2000. In '01 and '03, we had reason to cheer. But on the whole, we haven't had much to be happy about.
Here's what I figured out, listening to these tortured souls this morning:
We created this monster. All the years they watched us, the late 90's, etc. They wanted to win, so they sold their souls to the devil and bought the 2004 championship. After getting swept in 2005 in the first round, they spent even more money (Rice-Cake, Nancy Drew, etc.) and won it in 2007.
They have become a little version of the Evil Empire. A 'Mini-Me' of sorts. For a team that has known nothing but losing for so, so long, to win twice and resort back to losing, you'd think they'd remember how it feels. Sox fans always tell me, a Yankees fan caught behind enemy lines, in the Red Neck Backyard of Red Sox Nation, 'hey, we've won the Series twice in the last four years."
I always correct them by saying: "No, you've won two Series in the last 90 years, and yes, I want plastic, not paper please."
More reports will follow, deep in the lion's den. Deep behind enemy lines.
By IIH, IIF, IIc Secret Correspondent Shamus
CAMDEN, MAINE -- As the sun rises on Red Sox Nation this morning, I am reminded of a scene from one of those destruction movies, such as 'ID4', 'Cloverfield' or 'I am Legend.'
Cars are burning and overturned, bodies clad in Red Sox apparel lay motionless everywhere, and the distinct smell of raw pork hangs in the air.
Yes, fellow Yankees fans and readers, Red Sox Nation is in ruins, like the Romans at the end of their run, after Joaquin Phoenix killed his dad, Caesar, and wanted to sleep with his hotty sister.
I am eerily reminded of 2003, after getting punched in the mouth by that upstart, uppity southern Florida team, the Swordfish. Or Sea Bass. Whatever they hell they were called.
I specifically woke up at 5 am to listen to their desperate pleas fill the radio waves, as they call into the Big Jab (95.5 fm/ Portland Maine) and WEEI, aka Al-Soxzeera.
Some are near suicide. Some are in shock. Many are still drunk. On a troubling side note, with the economy in the dumper, last night didn't help one bit, b/c today none of them are going to their jobs at bars, strip clubs, McDonalds, trash collectors and plumbers. It seems all of RSN is taking the day off to lounge around the double-wide trailer and watch infomercials on NESN all day.
Some want Theo fired for his Manny debacle. Some want Tito Francona fired for his misuse of the pitching staff. Many are clamoring for them to sign and trade their way out of this nightmare.
You know its trouble when Sox fans are asking on broadcast radio if St. Louis would accept Coco Crisp, Mike Lowell and cash for Albert Pujols. Or if they can sign Peavy when he hits free agency next week.(I know, as well as you educated Yankees fans, Peavy could only be acquired via trade, but, I digress...)
I've even heard the impossible and imporbable: Sully, still hammered at 5:15 am, called WEEI while getting dressed to go to work as a trashman, and asked "what it would take for Manny to come back."
I know, I know. Things haven't been great for the Bronx Bombers since 2000. In '01 and '03, we had reason to cheer. But on the whole, we haven't had much to be happy about.
Here's what I figured out, listening to these tortured souls this morning:
We created this monster. All the years they watched us, the late 90's, etc. They wanted to win, so they sold their souls to the devil and bought the 2004 championship. After getting swept in 2005 in the first round, they spent even more money (Rice-Cake, Nancy Drew, etc.) and won it in 2007.
They have become a little version of the Evil Empire. A 'Mini-Me' of sorts. For a team that has known nothing but losing for so, so long, to win twice and resort back to losing, you'd think they'd remember how it feels. Sox fans always tell me, a Yankees fan caught behind enemy lines, in the Red Neck Backyard of Red Sox Nation, 'hey, we've won the Series twice in the last four years."
I always correct them by saying: "No, you've won two Series in the last 90 years, and yes, I want plastic, not paper please."
More reports will follow, deep in the lion's den. Deep behind enemy lines.
EDITORS NOTE: BE CAREFUL, OLD CHUM. DON'T LET DOWN YOUR GUARD.
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