I was moving. And you know how it is when you’re moving. Hauling boxes. Feeling every fiber of every muscle in your body screaming. Knowing there ain’t a friend in the world who wants to come share in the agony. No one to help cart those boxes of CDs or bubble-wrap the oversized, limited edition Blade Runner movie posters or put on the special acid-free mittens to safely move your first edition Fitzgeralds. I was just about ready to puke or shit myself or collapse headlong onto the hardwood when I heard it on the radio.
We got Curt Schilling. He was coming to pitch for us.
At the time, it was tantalizing. Of course, we’d seen a steady stream of gods and false prophets stroll through the clubhouse door. Pedro was the guy who was gonna get us that trophy. If not him, then definitely Manny. Or that Damon fellow. But this time it just felt different. And, as it turns out, Schill was just the kick in the ass we needed to get to that place I honestly never believed we’d reach in my lifetime. Like Andy Dufresne showing up at Shawshank and letting every know that there was more to life than bad food and sodomy.
I’ve spent so much of the past 48 hours looking back on assorted bits of Curtaphenalia, I felt compelled to share what I consider to be the top five “Curt Moments” from his tenure with the Red Sox.
1. The Bloody Sock: I’ve said pretty much all I can say on the subject in this post from October 2004. But let me just reiterate: It was simply the greatest thing my don’t-know-nothin’-but-losin’ eyes had ever seen at the time.
3. “I’m not sure I can think of any scenario more enjoyable than making 55,000 people from New York shut up.” Making bold proclamations against the Yankees hadn’t been working too well for us. The mighty Pedro Martinez once threatened to drill the Bambino in the ass, only to end up calling the Yankees his “daddy” a few years later. So when Curt dropped this gem before the 2004 ALCS, I naturally panicked. But then he made good on his promise. And to someone who was used to seeing the exact opposite of what I’d wish for occur, it was a odd and wonderful feeling.
4. The One-Hitter: Look, I’m the guy what f@#ked it up for him. It was in the bag, sealed and signed for, and I broke the cardinal rule by calling Rossi and telling her, “Holy shyte, I think Curt’s gonna do it.” It was a total high school move and it blew up in my face moments after I hung up the phone. And it killed me, far more than it hurt the night Pedro came thisclose to no-hitting the Devil Rays. But he just looked out into the field, stiffened his lip, and ended it with the next batter. Because, really, what else could you do?
Feel free to agree, disagree, or add your own…