“Happiness, Serenity and the 2019 Red Sox”
By Nathan Graziano
(BOSTON) It’s October of 2003, the bottom of the 10th inning in the old Yankee Stadium. Grady Little already left Pedro Martinez in way too long, a brain fart that blew a three-run eighth inning lead. I’m sitting in a rocking chair in the living room of my old house, waiting for the next hammer to fall, when Aaron Boone launches a Tim Wakefield knuckle-ball over the left-field porch.
Catatonic, I stare at the television, convinced I will never in my lifetime witness the Red Sox win a World Series, never celebrate with my fellowship of Sox fans, never open the bottle of champagne I foolishly bought earlier that day.
I’ll never experience happiness again.
Now it’s March of 2019, days before Opening Day, which so happens coincides with my birthday this year. The Boston Red Sox have won four World Series rings since 2003. They are—like the New England Patriots—the most dominant franchise of the 21st Century in their respective sport. The halcyon days of New England dominance seems infinite.
I am happy.
Last season, the 2018 World Series Champion Boston Red Sox boasted the best record in the franchise’s storied history, and minus closer Craig Kimbrel—who was a postseason heart attack—and Joe Kelly, who was always erratic, they’re fielding essentially the same team this season.
Like the Buddha, I am serene.
In fact, it seems like I exist in a strange land of complacency these days. I cannot remember another Hot Stove or Spring Training where the buzz around the Red Sox became a brittle batting of wings.
Have the Red Sox been so successful in the past 15 years that we, the fans, can now fold our hands on our bellies and whistle into the wind?
Perhaps—other than aforementioned bullpen concerns—it is the fact that we know the Red Sox will be good again, we know they’ll compete. The infield is nearly identical, although a hobbled Dustin Pedroia might attempt a comeback. In the batting order, last year’s AL MVP Mookie Betts—likely playing his final two-years in Boston—will flip spots with Andrew Benitendi, who will bat lead-off. JD Martinez and Xander Bogaerts will remain big bats in this potent line-up, and some are predicting centerfielder Jackie Bradley Jr. to come into his own this season at the plate.
Other than adding fire-baller Nathan Eovaldi to the rotation, the Sox have the same starting pitching staff. Chris Sale—locked up for the next five years—is still the ace. Former Cy Young winner and Fortnite star, David Price (and his dog, Astro), who opted to stay in Boston, will join fellow Cy Young winner Rick Porcello to round out the two and three holes, and Eduardo Rodriguez will likely anchor the rotation to start the season.
While the closer position remains a question mark going into Thursday, Ryan Brasier seems to be manager Alex Cora’s most likely candidate to come out in the ninth inning.
Usually, nothing excites me quite like the start of baseball season. The rhythms of the game, the certainty of the schedule—it’s as close as I get to a religious experience. Yet it seems surreal that a mere 16 years ago, at this moment, I harbored so much hostility, anger and despair.
And now, on the brink of my 44th birthday and the first time Opening Day I can remember coinciding with the first pitch, I am serene and I am happy.
Could this be a bad thing?
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“Hungry and stacked: The 2019 Yankees”
By Michael Kasdan
(NEW YORK) In a word, yes. The happiness and complacency of the Boston Red Sox fan base and its team sure could be a bad thing. For the Red Sox. For the Yankees, its just fine.
To paraphrase Tom Hanks, “There’s no happiness in baseball!” Championship baseball teams are forged in the competitive fires of coming oh-so-far but coming up just short. In 2017, the ahead-of-schedule Baby Bombers pushed the eventual champion Houston Astros to an elimination game. In 2018, the Bomber won 100 games but were eliminated by an admittedly juggernaut of a Red Sox team that won even more games and had a magical playoff run where literally every single move made by Manager Alex “Midas Touch” Cora worked perfectly. (Jackie Bradley Jr.!? Steve Pearce? Brock Holt? Please.)
Sure, the Red Sox success this past decade has taken its toll. Gone are the days where a Yankees fan could smugly answer any Red Sox fan’s taunt with a simple “1918” or a reference to “27 World Championships.” They’ve done a lot of winning lately. And they have built on the legacy of Pedro Martinez and David Ortiz by continuing to fill out an imposing lineup of (gulp) likable stars like Mookie Betts and JD Martinez.
But because of their success, to an even larger degree than when we last discussed it, The Rivalry, is alive and well. That much was made apparent by last year’s much-talked-about brawl, even though its main protagonists (Joe Kelly and Tyler Austin) are no longer with their respective teams.
The Yankees had a workmanlike but not splashy (in relative Yankee terms) off-season. No, they didn’t reel in (or even try to sign) the hottest big ticket names like Manny Machado or Bryce Harper or even Patrick Corbin. Instead, they shrewdly added a potential ace lefty pitcher in James Paxton, jettisoned the disaster that was Sonny Gray and resigned a tried-and-tested-can-pitch-in-NY veteran in JA Happ, strengthened the already elite bullpen by adding Adam “I Can Strike Out Babe Ruth” Ottavino, resigned their two veteran leaders, CC Sabathia and Brett Gardner, to short-term deals, and took a few fliers on some infield depth in DJ LaMahieu and Troy Tulowitzki. First base will be manned by the Laurel and Hardy combination of beefy barrel-everythinged Luke Voit, who was acquired late last year and quickly became a fan favorite, and the frail but sweet-swinging Greg Bird, long an organization favorite who hasn’t been able to stay healthy and perform in the majors. They also began the process of locking up their young stars, signing fireballing ace Luis Severino and Aaron Hicks to team-friendly long-term contract extensions.
This edition of the Bronx Bombers have built off the first arrivals of their young core in Severino, Aaron Judge and Gary Sanchez, by adding the slugging Giancarlo Stanton last off-season, and then adding another homegrown dynamic duo of Gleyber Torres and Miguel Andujar last year. That’s a lot of fire-power, and all can improve off of last season, when Judge missed time with a fluky injury, Stanton was adjusting to New York, Sanchez disappeared completely, and Gleyber and Andujar were mere rookies.
Judge is a capital ‘s” Superstar, the de facto Captain, and the Face of the Yankees. Larger than life, unassuming, and charismatic, it’s as if some mad scientist combined Derek Jeter’s quiet leadership and team-first grace with Paul Bunyan’s body and then added Mike Strahan’s gap-tooth for good measure. The franchise couldn’t be in better hands.
For all the good, of course, this season will not be without its challenges.
Severino promptly got hurt after signing his extension and will miss the first month. And when he does return, he’ll have to put his perplexingly ineffective second half of 2018 behind him. The starting pitching depth will be tested. So will the catcher. Gary Sanchez is coming off of a brutally bad season, both offensively and defensively, in which he was injured and seemed to have lost his confidence. The Kraken will be out to prove that he remains the best offensive catcher in the game. The Yankees biggest challenge may be the loss of their clubhouse leader, up-the-middle defensive stalwart, and incredibly clutch lefty #3 hole hitter, Didi Gregorious. (Not to mention that his smile absolutely *lights up* a room.) Didi hurt his throwing elbow during the playoff series against Boston, had surgery, and will miss at least half the season. The Yankees will attempt to replace him with some combination of Gleyber Torres, who can slide from second base to his natural short-stop position, and reclamation project Troy Tulowitzski, who has been ravaged by injuries these past few years after he appeared destined to be an all-time great when he first arrived in the bigs.
And then there are the Red Sox to contend with.
That, as they say, is what makes baseball.
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