Red Sox Rant: My selective ire as the season fades well into September

The Boston Red Sox can make my baseball heart flutter or my blood boil. This particular rant is all about the boiling part.

The 2017 Boston Red Sox schedule is winding down and this is the first season in decades I have gone to less than ten home games. The reason is this team is as exciting as reading the dictionary. My spouse – The Lovely Cynthia – despises baseball as “slow, boring and a waste of a good afternoon or evening.” This season Ms. Lovely will get no argument from me. This is a dreadful collection of non-personalities. Watching this team on NESN is so bad I make sure my Kindle is fully charged.

The ownership – meaning John Henry – is also on my special just go away meter. The Yawkey Way fiasco just crowned off a continuation of corporate skullduggery from Apple Watches to playing fiscal roulette with the International signings market. Also, John, ditch that straw hat since you look like Ray Bolger in the Wizard of Oz.

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The next rant on my soapbox is Mo, Larry, and Curley – not the famed Three Stooges, but our outfield collection that does their happy dance after every victory. I doubt Tommy Tune has given the boys any instructions since their moves are about as dreadful as their hitting. Can someone please – I’ll even do pretty please – put an end to that nonsense.

The food at Fenway Park makes the lunches I had to attempt to eat in high school decades ago seem palatable. That was culinary PTSD. Forget the ballpark cost – that happens everywhere, but the slop they dish out has convinced me greed has overwhelmed any basic culinary acuity. If Thomas de Torquemada was still upright he could put away the instruments of torture and replace it with the Fenway chicken finger meal. I would instantaneously confess to anything.

Chris Sale could lose 50 games, but in my book he does the one thing that is as rare as a cognizant post from me – he pitches quickly. Sale gets the ball and throws the ball. Sale does not do a Clay Buchholz and attempt to communicate with the spirit world when he has the ball. Hmmm…this seems a bit positive? I’ll get back on rant track.

Ms. Lovely certainly has some negative input and some of it is all centered on spitting, chewing, scratching, and the inevitable grabbing of certain athletic equipment. I explained this as “A guy thing” and her response was “The guy thing” is in front of 30,000 people. I am now exceedingly private and careful around the homestead.

What is the issue with batting practice? Back in the day, the fun was to get to the park early enough to watch your guys having some fun with the club. Nothing like watching a few pitchers having their own version of home run derby. No more. I do believe you do have an early entry if you have sold a kidney to buy a season luxury box.

The Monster Seats are a total con. Maybe a flim-flam, rip-off, swindle, – I am now out of synonyms. They are just vastly overpriced bleacher seats and nothing more. The view is awful unless you are in row one where it is passible. Doing this for the “experience” is like driving your car 100 MPH into a bridge abutment for the “experience.”