Bad sport

Back in April, when the Boston Red Sox played their first home game after the Marathon bombing, their big stud muffin slugger David “Big Papi” Ortiz took the microphone before the first pitch and addressed the sold out crowd at Fenway Park. “This jersey we wear today, it doesn't say Red Sox. It says Boston. This is our fucking city. And nobody's going to dictate our freedom. Stay strong.”

The joint went bananas. Right now, in light of the Sox winning the Series, that's looking like the F-bomb of the year, maybe of the millenium (which, granted, is still only 13 years old).

•

I had the chance to attend a Sox game at Fenway this summer while in Boston, and I must report, it was a stone cold gas. It was on Sunday, Sept. 15. It was the last game of the season between the hated Yankees and the Sox. I just sorta assumed that the game was sold out, as most games are at dinky little Fenway, especially Yankee games, but I strolled on down to the ball park anyway. For one thing, the party scene around that joint is totally tremendous. Nothing but swingin' sports bars and souvenir shops on two sides of the stadium. The area is absolutely rockin' on game night. And not, amazingly, just by old baseball farts with hair in their ears.

So I walk up to the box office at 5 o'clock. Not a soul in line. I figured it was closed. But I look again, and there is indeed one ticket clerk. I ask about tonight, expecting a scoff. He says, “Where do you want?” Crazy! I yank out the Visa and get a seat just above the third base dugout for 99 bucks. Had an absolute ball at the ball game, even if I do hate the Yankees, and the Sox can go ahead and kiss my ass, too. But, still. Just an utterly splendid evening. And the food in that joint!

•

Next season, the final four college football teams to play for the national championship will be decided by a group of 16 “experts.” One of those “experts,” it was recently announced, will be Condoleeza Rice. Wait. What? Excuse me? Condi Rice? WTF does Madam Mongoose know about college football? Did the organizing committee think they needed a quasi-war criminal to round out the group? They were desperate for an XX set of chromosomes on the panel? If that was the case, why pick the Mongoose? The University of Nevada, Reno's ex-athletic director Cary Groth knows a thousand times more about quality college football than Condi. Hell, I'm a better choice than Condi!

Obviously, they wanted a “name” female on their little committee. So instead of choosing any of a dozen completely qualified national female sports columnists, they went with—Condi? Quite honestly, I still can't figure this out. Haven't the foggiest. This is Twilight Zone material, man! If you're one of the other panelists, don't you look at Rice during your first meeting and say to yourself, “What the hell is she doing here?”