It's been a long day here in the land of hurricanes and Spring training camps. 35 friggin' degrees when we went down to board our vans at 6:30 this morning; wicked winds all day long, two losses (but close games); big muscle pulls in places I did not know I had muscles and more ice on me at the end of the day than in the Bering Straits in winter.
Sound ugly? Kinda off, but there was fun as big Sox stars were in camp; we finished early; I enjoyed a local cigar bar with my team and had lots of good smokes, free pizza and beer and great Sox talk. Not all bad, except I have to air my clothes out for a week before I come home!
Had a couple of hits and ran the bases hard and that was my downfall as in Game 2 in 55 degree weather with 2030 mph winds that had us all layering up like Eskimos. I hit a shot down the third baseline off "Oil Can Boyd" and beat the throw but when it went over the first baseman's head, motored down to second base and aabout half way there, I felt a twinge and pulling sensation and all at once my hamstring on the right side and my groin tightened up like someone using giant vice grip pliers on my legs getting a great deal of satisfaction increasing the pain ala the villians in all those late night grip and rip movies.
I really hurt at the end of the day and the wonderful trainers wrapped me up good and I sat with ice for about 20 minutes after they stretched me out and I screamed non stop for the 15 minutes I was on one of the trainers tables. They mentioned muscles I had never heard of and things I thought only real jocks could suffer; but no, we rank amatuers have this stuff to, but the difference is we can't and don't ever use theses hidden wonders of our bodies and when we do, we screw them up good as we have not preparred for this kind of continuous useage.
Several players giggled as I hobbled down to my stall wrapped tighter than King Tut in his small mummy case. F---k you I said to several of the coaches and players who tortured me with locker room jock crap. I simply told them all to burn in hell or become Yankee fans! Shut them up god!
In the morning after the Daily Fine Forum (and one of our guys was late to the start of a game so we all had to pay a buck into the kitty), we saw current Sox star Kevin Youkilis sitting at a locker and we descended upon his with bats, cards and baseballs to sign and cameras to shoot pix of us with "Youk," who is a Gold Glove winner, a feared slugger and who finished fourth in last year's MVP voting. He accomodated us all and I tod him that "Us Jewish guys have to stick together." He laughed. He is half Jewish but what the heck!!!!!!!!! We'll take him although he looks like a combination of a Hell's Angel and Popeye.
Outside where we warm up as an entire group, Sox superstar pitcher John Lester and reliever Manny del Carmen who tossing lightly at 90 mph and I stood by the bullpen where Lester, looking 8 feet tall was throwing even harder. Got a good pic of him as he finished his delivery.
Awesome looking dude who beat cancer two years ago to become a Major League Baseball superstar. Yes, I will attempt to publish the fotos and send you a link to them all.
Froze our butts off in both games and some ugly defense did us in, but I did get another hit off "The Can" and that means more drinks at the bar on me! By the way, the name "Oil Can" comeds from the fact that his family were Moonshiners from Alabama and "shine" is often called "oil" and stored in any kind of can these hillbilly distillers can find.
Skipper Troell told us all that he has spent 23 years as a minor league pitching coach and now is in charge of ALL Sox minor league pitchers. Interesting life but he has a World Series ring with Detroit in '84 and two with the Sox in 2004 and 2007. He talked about all the hot shot pitchers he has been around, some dumber than bags of hammers and others smart and personable. For those of you who know Sox phenom pitcher Clay Buckholz, remind we to tell you about the party with Miss Penthouse at Donald Trump's joint in LA. Whew! What a life these kids lead. You have no idea of the parties, women, temptations and trouble these folks get into.
We are taking The Can and Troell out for dinner Friday night to thank them for guiding us to a probable record of 2-6. Couldn't have done it without you guys! We'll go to Burger King which is gourmet dining in Ft. Myers.
Former Sox hotshot All Star left fielder Mike "Gator" Greenwell was at lunch signing stuff and he was very friendly, personable and nice. Took fotos with all of us and when someone asked how he got the nickname "Gator" he told us of a story that created the legendary name ( at least among those of us in Red Sox Nation).
In the 80s, Greenwell was a veteran player and the Sox brought up a ho shot rookie outfielder named Ellis Burks who spent many great years in Beantown. Seems like Burks had a bit of a swagger and Greenwell actually put a 3 foot alligator in Burk's locker and cover it up with a towel. When Ellis came out of the shower buck naked and reached for a towel Gator lunged and Burks jumped about 14 feet in the air and sped off as the players roared. Hence the name "Gator" stuck with Mike who is also from Florida.
He also came out onto the warm up field and told some funny stories about his career and us guys loved it. Very humble and down to earth stuff.
THE FINISH OF THURSDAY'S POST
Losing ain't fun but we have a great group of guys I will tell you about in Friday's post. Most of them were like me at the end of the day-- ready for cigars, free drinks and pizza and the Celtics-Lakes game at the Reserve Cigar Bar just down the road from the hotel As I stated earlier, the choice for Thursday night's activities was wiffle ball at the park with beer and BBQ or cigars. For me it was no choice. Thank you Sox for providing this wonderful night of sitting around with some of the great things in life.
The joint was nothing special but it was nice and had a good ventilation system so that the smoke was not too bade. We had some non-smokers with us who didn't think the smell was so bad and a couple of doctors did not want to be photographed holding cigars lest their wives or girlfriends give them a ton of grief.
I conducted a clinic for 10 or so of the guys on cigar etiquette such as how to light, smoke and handle the ash properly. They were most impressed as I was the cigar pro and they were the rookies just like the deal at Fantasy Camp. The Sox provided free cigars but I had brought about a half dozen from my humidor and gave some out to some of the guys plus Luis Tiant and Rick Wise, former Sox pitchers who enjoy a good smoke.
What was nice was the atmosphere where we learned more about each other, our families, wives, girlfriends, jobs and of course favorite Sox stories. Then there were the waitresses who were very diligent in serving adult beverages, taking pictures with us and flashing some outrageously large female acoutremonts hanging out of little barmaid dresses that left nothing to the imagination. You will see some photos soon but rest assured, several of the guys fell in love with "Ample Amy" and her cohorts. These girls made the Hooters girls seemed undernourished.
The booze, pizza, lovely ladies and cigars briefly took our minds off our record (1-5) and our injuries but whenever we got back to the hotel ( I have no idea about the Celtics-Lakers game as other distractions interceded), the alcohol that hid the pain or sore legs, quads, hammies and groins returned with a vengence and what to do? I guess go down to the bar and see if a few swigs of spirits would hide the agony until the morning work over by the training staff. The answer was yes and no! Temporary relief but bedtime return of suffering.
So I wrote most the the Thursday blog and before I knew it, it was midnight and the alarm would be going off at 6 am. So I filled two baggies with ice (thank you Art for those as his camper has everything you could want or need to be self sufficient, laid down on the bed with two ice packs under my legs and promptly fell asleep. When I woke up at 1:30 am I felt like a frozen dessert but what a relief so that I could get a few hours of sleep without pain.
Thinking of Amy also helped me fall quickly into Dreamland. May have to visit the Reserve again before I go!
Friday will come later but have to get ready to take Manager Troell and The Can to what will be a hilarious, obscenity-laced event with free flowing grain spirits that may cause me to blog early Saturday as we play the pros and a quaking in our boots at the prospects of facing 80 mph pitching from former big leaguers. More on that later.
Hal
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