I can take another loss to the Rays. We always seem to stoke the fires in their bellies when we come to town, and it’s no surprise to see them use a homestand against us as the jetpack to drive them further up in the AL East standings.
What I find more troubling is this brave new Remy-free world I’m forced to live in. What, precisely, is wrong with our fearless leader and when can we expect him to return to his proper position at the top of the baseball commentator food chain? Is it pneumonia? Swine flu? Yellow fever? Did he eat at the Hard Rock at Yankee Stadium? Or, worse, did desperation lead him to ingest one of Fenway’s “Monster Dogs”? If Javier Lopez, after botching that play a couple nights ago, had come out and said, “I have no excuse, other than my mind was on the health of my good friend, Jerry Remy,” I would have overlooked his gaffe on the spot. And perhaps even seen about the two of us finally getting together for that dinner at the Capital Grille.
Don’t get me wrong: I loves me some DO. But a game without Remy is like an episode of Charlie’s Angels without Bosley. You just don’t even think it, man.
So here’s hoping you get well soon, Remdawg. Not just for me, but for the entire Nation.