OK, so we’re only a couple of games into the 2011 season.  The hype of the offseason is already a distant memory.  You know what this is like?  Christmas Day as a kid.  All December, you’re looking forward to Christmas morning.  You’ve written to Santa.  You’ve been extra good.  All you want is that shiny new bike, or,  in this day and age, a laptop or Wii…anyway you get the point.  You fly down the stairs and start tearing into the gifts.  Socks, bathrobe, a book, a game…no bike!  You don’t want to act like a jerk, so you feign happiness.  I can’t feign!  What a horrible start.  Boston has lost its’ first two games by a collective score of 21-10.

     You’re starving.  You’ve worked hard all day.  You can’t wait to get home for dinner.  You’re imagining one of your favorites.  Ribs, steak, pork chops.  You’re salivating as you pull the car into the driveway.  You open the door and boom, a punch to the chest. Something horrrible like lentil soup, beef stew or corned beef and cabbage.  Jon Lester, Daniel Bard, Jon Lackey and the rest of the bullpen has melted down.  The Sox are 0-2.

     You haven’t had a date in a while.  A friend says “I’ve got the perfect girl for you.”  “What’s she look like?” you ask.  “What a personality!”  “Great” you say.  “But what does she look like?”  “She sings like a bird”  your friend continues.  “Terrific” you perist.  “But what does she look like?” (yeah, guys are that shallow.  But so are women)  After the friend tells you “It’s a match made in heaven.” You relent.  You knock on the door hoping that Pia Toscano will answer (watch American Idol), but no, it’s Susan Boyle.  Carl Crawford is 0 for his first 7.  And to make matters worse, the Yankees are 2-0.

     On Thursday, as the PawSox open their 2011 season, I flip the switch and again, I’m a professional broadcaster.  I’ll still love the Red Sox and PawSox as well.  I’m just hoping that they’ll both love me back this season.  This is who I am.  An average Red Sox fan, who is really ticked right now.  I know it will get better.  But I didn’t want a book or lentil soup or Susan Boyle.

     I wanted to ride my shiny new bike over to Pia’s house for a steak dinner.


     I would be remiss if I didn’t offer my condolences to the family and friends of Lou Gorman.  The former Red Sox General Manager died on Opening Day at the age of 82.  He was a really nice man, always willing to share his time and expertise.  Lou will be missed.


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