Friday, August 13, 2010

Why I Hate the Red Sox

No, you’re not seeing things. I’ve come back. You see, there are a couple reasons I stopped writing this column:

  1. I got so busy at work that by the time it was Friday, I didn’t realize it was Friday until I was at work and waist deep in Crap I Need to Get Done.

Yes, I’m aware there are thousands of other things I could have written about while I was on my little hiatus (LeBron James, Tyler Seguin, Ilya Kovalchuk…) but I’m putting so much energy into not watching the Red Sox that those topics slipped my mind.

I’m sure I’m not the only one, but the Red Sox are boring me to tears this season. If the Boyfriend turns the game on, I play solitaire on my phone. It’s like a chain reaction I just can’t prevent.

Why? Well I have some theories:

  1. Who the hell is Josh Reddick?! I feel like I don’t know this team anymore. I realized I was a Red Sox fan after a year of denial because one of my friends got me to name the entire starting line up and all the starting pitchers. I figured if I cared enough to know who all the players were, I must be a fan. Now, turning on the TV to watch a Sox game is like rolling dice. Who will be injured and who will be called up is a total mystery.
  2. I friggin hate you, Theo Epstein. He said it was a bridge year, then he took it back. Then he didn’t add anyone at the trade deadline despite the fact that this team could be a contender if they weren’t plagued by injury. I mean, if you think about it, they had a fighting chance at the beginning of the season and all things considered, they’re a solid team. They don’t have solid bones, but they’re a solid team. (Drink more milk, kids.) Theo is all “la de da” this season and I want to punch him in the balls.
  3. Mike Lowell. If I watch a Sox game and pay attention, it’s for the best that I bring along a bottle of Prozac. Is anyone else incredibly distressed by this whole Lowell situation? I mean, you bench the guy, you send him to the minors, and then when you finally have him play, he knocks it out of the park. Literally. It’s just depressing. If I were him I would flip everyone the bird, grab my nut sack, and say PEACE, BITCHES at a press conference. I would still respect him. I might even respect him more.
  4. Baseball is not hockey. This past hockey season crushed my spirit and broke my heart. Despite all that, I yearn for the fast-paced game play and the comfortable chill of a hockey rink. I’m sick of sweating in 90 degree weather and trying to watch a baseball game in agony. Bring me the Bruins, some sweater weather, and Tyler Seguin.

Hell, even those sneaker squeaking basketball primadonnas would be better than this…

Samantha Lewis is a work-a-holic and would like to apologize to the readers of this column for dissapearing for long periods of time. If you would like, you can follow her on Twitter here, and nugde her to write more by using the hash tag #FreeSlew (Seriously, it works).


perryglasser said...

Nice to have you back!

clewis said...

Come back to the dark side, Bear!
Love, Dad


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