The Art of Goodbye

Seeing Youk go was watching a piece of nostalgia walking away with that bald head and ballerina batting stance. But let's face it, he's not the first to go. And he's not the last

            Every bride looks beautiful, but she was elegant and angelic. Her dad walked his baby girl down the isle with a face that revealed his secret; that he would break down at any time. A tear finally rolled down his cheek as he kissed her good bye. Hearts broke as she clutched to him for one last embrace, the way things were.

            At the reception I asked him what he thought about it all.

            “Just another day,” he said and looked out to his daughter.

            And it was.

            They would hug again. He would tell her he loved her and she would always be his little girl but in one tear was a moment of purity that said potently, “life is precious and the time is fleeting.”

            On my way home I sat in a quiet airport gate, scrolling through the news that Kevin Youkilis, the Greek God of Walks had been traded.

            “Red Sox acquire INF/OF Brent Lilibridge and RHP Zach Stewart from White Sox in exchange for Youk”

            “After 9 years in Boston, Youk is changing the color of his sox”

            I read the tweets and Facebook statuses over and over. Finally I read, “Kevin Youkilis is honored on field with standing ovation after being removed from game”. Another tweet described how bellows of “Youkkkkk!” soared through the Fenway air. Something it wouldn’t do the same way ever again.

            Sitting on the hot tarmac in Pittsburgh I felt the goosebumps from imagining the sight and sound of what that good bye must have meant miles away in Boston. 

            Before then, as I went through the security checkpoint, two young teenage girls hugged each other discretely on the side of a gift shop. Their shoulders rose and fell with their sobs. Over that unmistakable human sound of weeping, I heard the delicate words, “good bye”.

            How naïve, that they thought a good thing wouldn’t come to an end.

             Even though that was true, strangers turned away because no one was strong enough to deny it was hard not to want to cry right along with them.

            No, there’s no crying in baseball. But at the very moment Youk was saying good bye to the Boston Red Sox, I was at an airport- the very place where the inevitability of life is comings and goings. And even when that’s recognized, you still can’t help but fight back the tears when touches of emotion pops into the patterns of redundancy and you remember just why you’re sad to go.

            Life returns. The girl’s tears stopped halfway through security. Youk will get walks, he will bat and play in a different uniform ( and be 1 and 4 in his first attempt). More will come and more will go. That’s why it’s so important to stop and appreciate the power of goodbye and all it teaches in being grateful for good memories.

            I read another tweet, while I sit paused in the place that is all about good byes. “David Ortiz is now the last remaining member of the 2004 team.”

             2004.
            Now those were some good memories.

           

As a player you might never know how you will be received in Fenway for the first time you're not one of them. But inside, I think you know if you'll be accepted among the greatest crowd of all. 

It's been fun, wish you the best.  

Don't Push Me 'Cause I'm Close to the Edge

Incase you don’t know, it takes a lot for Boston DH David Ortiz to get mad. And in case you REALLY don’t know, he did in fact get mad on Friday. I give you the tale of the cleverly named baseball soap opera- to be named later.

            Papi went from the loveable big guy we know and love, to the agitated beast that charged the mound against the Orioles after a batter-pitcher duel where Ortiz thought the ball went a little too far inside. Ortiz hit a fly ball to center and as he casually jogged his normal route to first, something took him off his course.

            But what could possibly poke the bear inside Papi enough to get a reaction?            

            Apparently Oriole pitcher Kevin Gregg said, something to the effect of, “Hey, get down that baseline and run.”

             NOONE tells Papi to run.

            After both benches cleared (I personally enjoyed the concerned look on Pedroia’s face as he trotted out to help his friend) Ortiz was ejected, as well as Orioles Kevin Gregg (the pitcher in question), Jim Johnson and Sox catcher Jarrod Saltalamacchia.

            If it wasn’t perfect enough to see Ortiz throwing punches (he hit nothing) but that ESPN and several MLB watchdogs were recently criticizing the league’s frequent and possibly escalating number of ejections. We the fans had before us a front row seat to the game where baseball is just baseball.  

             Speaking of that sentiment, that’s exactly what Gregg tried to get at as he talked to reporters after the game.

            He starts off, “We’re playing the game of baseball.”

            (So far so good Gregg)

            “I think you’ve got to ask David what he was thinking. It’s 3-0 and you’re up seven runs and the opposing pitcher gets upset with you hitting a weak fly ball on a 3-0 count and not running.”

            (Alright, okay- see what you’re saying)

             “You know if he thinks there’s something wrong with me saying that then he’s got other things he needs to figure out in this game.”

            Well I get everything except for the part that crowned Gregg the God of sore losers. And also, if he is done “figuring out” the game then trash talk must be the only part of the game he’s concerned about.

            But wait, he makes another point.

            “You’ve got 17 inches on the plate you’ve got to use all seventeen inches, if you don’t you’re going to get your ass kicked every time you go out there.”

            (I’m going to let the irony of the score and that previous, “get your ass kicked” statement play out for yourself.)

             “So that’s what I was doing when I was out there, they’re going to whine and complain about it because they think they’re better than everybody else but no, we have just as much a right to pitch inside as they do.”

              Touche good sir. But yet again, there is something missing in Gregg’s logic. First, I missed the part where using all 17 inches of the plate meant using your mouth and second, like a pitcher’s right to pitch inside, (especially against a batter like Ortiz) every batter has their right to be nervous when a fastball comes careening a little too close to the goods if you know what I mean. Then add an inconsistent pitcher to the equation and the nerves tend to spike when that pitcher is indeed trying to put a thread through a needle.

            Now back to the story. When Salty asked Papelbon later what he thought about Gregg calling the sox a bunch of whiners? His answer was gloriously indicative to the current flow and tone of the sox.

            “What do we have to whine about?”

            As far as the comment about the Red Sox thinking they are better than everyone else, all I can say is grow up and talk to us when you’re leading the league. Let’s not forget where you were last year, and the many years before that, okay Orioles?

            I believe ladies and gentleman, we have reached a milestone here, and the first ever true story where shutting up, making no excuses and playing like a damn champion is sooo relevant on both sides. It was fun while it lasted but it only makes everyone look stupid. More so Gregg than Papi because Gregg was just plain disrespectful.

            Oh and P.S- Something to make Sox fans happy; ESPN’s midseason awards where they cleaned house. Maybe that’s why Greggy-poo is so jealous.