Welcome to #104!
No, I’m not going to write about Phineas & Ferb’s summer vacation. Even if it’d be hilarious to inexplicably devote a second column to Bowling for Soup. Also, no Super Bowl comments, except “Go Eagles.” Any other sentiment is like rooting for the Galactic Empire and its Death Star to squash Luke, Leia, and the Rebel Alliance.
You see, today, the 1 doesn’t matter. It’s the 04.
This post will be the final on my life as a Red Sox fan.
Like 75, 78, and 86, I associate 04 with the Sox. And, oddly, I associate what should have been the happiest moment of my Sox fandom with the end of any real joy in rooting for them.
The setting: October 2004, Boston Red Sox v. New York Yankees in a best-of-7 American League Championship Series. New York won the first 3 games, with the third a shellacking that prompted The Boston Globe’s venerable Bob Ryan to write of the Sox: “They are down, 3–0, after last night’s 19–8 rout, and, in this sport, that is an official death sentence. Soon it will be over, and we will spend another dreary winter lamenting this and lamenting that.”
I felt the same. I mean, we were only a year removed from Grady Little’s disastrous decision to let Pedro Martinez pitch the 8th inning of Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS – a game (and series) that the Sox lost in typically gut-wrenching fashion. In fact, in ’04, I so strongly agreed with Ryan’s post-Game 3 assessment that, initially, I opted against accompanying my brother to Boston for Game 4. I wanted no part of an inevitable series-clinching win by the Yankees.
But I also suffer from Irish-Catholic guilt. And, the only thing worse than witnessing a New York win would be the wrath of my mother for leaving my little brother to make the drive to & from Boston all by himself. Even though he was 35. So, I went.
Believe it or not, we didn’t have tickets. Back then, there was a bar at Fenway called the Crown Royal Club. The main entrance was on the street, and you could enter without having a game ticket, but the bar was part of Fenway. My brother knew a woman who worked there. She told him she’d get us into the game.
Yeah, right. I fully expected we’d end up watching on tv from the bar.
After milling about the Crown Royal Club for a bit, some guy appeared and signaled us to follow him. He escorted us thru the kitchen to a nondescript door. As we entered, I hoped it opened back to Landsdowne Street and not to a jail cell. Shockingly, it opened into Fenway Park. We were in! Not having tickets, Patrick and I watched from spots we staked out in the Standing Room Only section.
The rest is history. I won’t bore you with the details. Suffice to say, Boston tied the game in the bottom of the 9th in what is my favorite sequence in sports history. I simply cannot describe the noise or the unbridled joy that rocked the stadium as Dave Roberts slid safely home.
At that moment, I don’t know if we expected the Sox to win. My guess is that most of Red Sox Nation thought it nothing more than a cruel prelude to another heart-break. But, for a fleeting moment, we’d landed a punch square to the mighty Yankees’ collective nose. And we were going to let it soak in before they recovered to knock us out.
But they didn’t. Boston won. Not only the game, but, miraculously, the next 3 games, and the World Series that followed. The curse had officially ended. They’d win the World Series again in 2007 and 2013. (Notably, my brother went on to be one of the final 25 candidates for President of Red Sox Nation.)
Am I happy about the 3 titles? Of course. But, for whatever reason, I miss the fan that I was that day in ’04 when the First Brother and I drove to Fenway without tickets.
Back then, as Sox fans, all we had was hope. Of course, it was a hope tempered by a dread born of experience. Not unlike Charlie Brown steadfastly trusting Lucy not to yank the ball away, we annually invested nearly all of our emotional energy in a baseball team that, as it had since 1918, regularly found new & innovative ways to devastate its fans.
Occasionaly there were moments of pure joy on the road to devastation. That was the Dave Roberts moment. The utter glee at landing a punch that staggered the bully before he knocked you into oblivion.
I miss those moments.
My good friend JJ is Hand Of Bar Counsel, this blog’s official King in the East, and Lord Protector of House Badger. He’s also a huge Sox fan. As he told me yesterday, now, it’s house money, not our hearts & souls. Not only that, in a way, we’ve become the Yankees.
He’s right. Sure 3 championships in 10 years is great. But, this year, I didn’t even take the afternoon off to watch the Red Sox playoff games on TV. Try to explain that to the me who cried in 75, 78, and 86, and who drove to Boston in ’04, without tickets, to watch a game we’d surely lose.
For me, as a Sox fan, it’ll never be better than that day in ’04 when we didn’t have titles or a massive payroll, but we had the pure joy of momentarily staggering the Yankees before they knocked us out yet again.
Only they didn’t. And, in a bizarre way, I wonder if I’d be happier if they had.
Onto the quiz!
- None. Open book, open search engine, text/phone/email-a-friend.
- Exception: Question 5. We try to play that one honest.
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- Team entries welcome, creative team names even more welcome.
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Under the rules, which is treated differently from the others?
- A. Client intends to commit a criminal act that Lawyer reasonably believes is likely to result in the death of someone other than Client;
- B. Client intends to use Lawyer’s services to commit a criminal act that is reasonably certain to result in substantial injury to the financial interests of another;
- C. Client intends to commit a criminal act that Lawyer reasonably believes is likely to result in substantial bodily harm to Client.
- D. Trick question. The rule treats them all the same.
Fill in the blank. (2 words)
” are not prohibited in domestic relations matters which involve the collection of (i) spousal maintenance or property division due after a final judgment is entered; or (ii) child support and maintenance supplement arrearages due after final judgment, provided that court approves . . .”
Lawyer called me with an inquiry. I listened, then said “yes, for the sole purpose of paying service charges or fees on the account, and only in an amount necessary for that purpose.”
What did Lawyer call to ask?
Lawyer represents Client and, in order to act, needs Client’s “informed consent, confirmed in writing.”
Lawyer calls Client. Client gives informed consent over the phone, but does not provide it in writing. Lawyer promptly transmits to Client a writing that confirms Client’s spoken informed consent.
For the purposes of the rules, has Client provided “informed consent, confirmed in writing?”
A timely question.
Okay campers, rise & shine, and don’t forget your booties cuz it’s coolllllddd out there today!
You’re an attorney who has been assigned to represent Phil Connors. Phil is a weatherman who has been charged with simple assault. He allegedly punched Ned Ryerson in the face.
Phil tells you that he doesn’t remember much about Ryerson, but that the two went to high school together. The State’s discovery reflects that Ryerson, or “Needlenose Ned,” did the whistling-belly-button trick at the senior talent show, and even dated Phil’s sister until Phil told him not to. Bing!
Phil tells you that he hasn’t seen Ryerson in years. However, lately, they’ve run into each other often on the street.
As a competent and diligent lawyer, you argue to the prosecutor that your client isn’t a criminal, but a Renaissance man! After all, he’s very recently learned how to speak French, play piano, and carve ice sculptures.
What movie are you in?
Bonus: what song does your client wake to every morning?