Remy the player was just alright. Scrappy. Tenacious. Hit .275 and belted a paltry seven homers, but wasn’t afraid to dirty up a shirt or two, and we like that around here. He was also a key element in the Red Sox’ covert “Little Guys with Moustaches” operation, which ended abruptly with Jody Reed’s departure. [Also, for what it's worth, if the Red Sox were a sitcom, and Remy left the show, tell me that Jody Reed wouldn't have been brought in to play Rem's slightly effeminate younger brother. I do believe this was part of Duquette's plan.]
Remy the announcer is another story entirely. An eterna-All Star. Utterly invaluable to each and every game. Sends us all home with big goofy grins and mussed-up hair, even if the Sox got shellacked. I’ll be honest: They could have anyone from Mitt Romney to The Pussycat Dolls working the Red Sox play-by-play [note to NESN: Feel free to pull out that last one for "sweeps week"] and I’d still watch the games with a fervor usually reserved for church-going or slamming Jaegermeister shots with teenaged Russian chicks. But in my mind, the presence of Jerry Remy turns each game into a religious experience. There’s a reason a little part of our hearts withers and dies with every national Sox broadcast: absence of Remy. Admit it: Even as you danced and tripped over your tongue and poured beer all over yourself during the 2004 World Series, there was something missing. Something just didn’t feel quite right. It was the lack of RemDawg. Sure, we got to see him on the NESN post-game shows, but the sound of his voice would have pushed it over the top, possibly leading to seizures and spontaneous bursts of lust throughout RSN.
Anyway, the Dawg has gotten his due. Remy has been named to the Red Sox Hall of Fame. And it just couldn’t have happened to a better dude.
For those about to Rem, we salute you.
Oh, and in the “too much knowledge” department comes this Trot Nixon gem from today’s Globe: “I’ve got more body hair than Billy [Mueller]. That makes me look a little darker.”
Breakfast? No, I’ll pass, thanks.