Opening day-or Opening Day, depending on your perspective-was a bust. WHAT a disappointment. Mr. Schilling certainly did not make a strong case for an extension yesterday (I could have hit a big fly off that crawling fastball), and it appeared the Keystone Cops were running the bases. It seemed as if the Sox were just picking up where they left off last fall-a bunch of dead men walking (except, of course, when they were running into outs). No clutch hits-Alex Gonzalez could have struck out three times, Theo, and probably reached a couple of those balls, too. Our new lefty specialist was greeted rudely by having his first major-league pitch deposited over the center field wall ( "First pitch didn’t go as we planned," said Francona afterwards. Jeez, I hope not, Tito). Papi striking out in the ninth inning? Ugh. Six in a row lost at Kaufmann Stadium. Kaufmann Stadium!

I know, tomorrow is another day. The good news is that the Royals, while improved, still are not the Yanks in terms of lineup (well, neither are the Sox) and Beckett can’t possibly be as bad tomorrow as Schilling was yesterday. If a few bats wake up (are you listening, Coco? Julio?) getting to Odalis Perez shouldn’t be a problem…right?

Just one more interesting note…during the pregame show, Jerry Remy was talking about Dustin Pedroia. I heard him say, very clearly, that he was "not impressed" with him at the end of last season and didn’t see that much had changed over spring training, although he was hoping to be "pleasantly surprised." Ouch. A lot of Red Sox fans feel the same way, unfortunately, although they seem more worried about his offense than his defense, which was Remy’s issue. He did get a couple of good hits yesterday, one of which was negated by a stupid baserunning play at second, but to hear Remy comethisclose to calling out the Sox for the decision to start Pedroia was a little disconcerting.

Like everything else, time will tell.

Go Josh!

I learned a lot as I watched the inaugural Civil Rights Game. Of course, I knew about Jackie Robinson and Larry Doby. I also know all the sad history of my own beloved Red Sox on this sensitive issue (for a good chronicle of the subject, I recommend Shut Out: A Story of Race and Baseball in Boston by Howard Bryant). I listened to Frank Robinson talk about being the first African-American manager hired by MLB, then the first fired. I heard C.C. Sabathia talk thoughtfully about the larger role that African-American players should play in resparking the interest in the game amongst African-American youth. I even enjoyed listening to Joe Morgan, for a change. I’ve been watching baseball for 30 years, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t really pay much attention to the cultural shift in the game, so I was shocked to learn that less than 10% of current major leaguers are African-American. I certainly noticed the rise in Asian and Hispanic players over the past decade or so, but didn’t realize that was being accomplished at the expense of African-Americans. Good for MLB for trying to address the issue in a public way, sponsoring a weekend-long event including a panel discussion and awarding the first "Beacon Awards," to honor "contributions to civil rights and historical ties to baseball."

The weekend seemed a success. However, even in this festive atmosphere, racism in the old school mode was still on display. I think it’s fair to ask why the major league representatives of the city of Cleveland, participating in this game because of their instrumental role in breaking the American League color barrier, continue to insist on displaying an unattractive caricature of a Native American on their caps. IMO it’s long past time for this franchise-and others, including the Washington Redskins, which ironically is the team Howard Bryant left the Herald to cover-to address this issue. Yes, there are those who continue to insist it doesn’t offend, but instead glorifies Native Americans, but frankly those arguments sound suspiciously like those who shrilly defend their display of the Confederate flag as a tribute to their "heritage" (yeah, their heritage of slaveholding and attempt to secede from the Union to continue the practice. What’s not to be proud of in that?) The image is simply an offensive stereotype, and far beneath the proud city of Cleveland, it’s citizens and ballplayers.

It’s past time for the franchise and MLB to realize they’re talking out of both sides of their mouths on this issue, and when better to do that than during a weekend dedicated to baseball and civil rights? I challenge them to do what my old alma mater and many others have done over the past 10-15 years-review the history and eliminate their role in perpetuating a stereotype.

Heck, maybe the league could even start an outreach program for talented Native American athletes.

Major league baseball is still plagued with problems. Gary Matthews insists that he never took HGH, despite receiving it from a pharmacy that’s hip deep in the doping scandal. Fans are up in arms over the exclusive MLB/DirecTV deal for the Extra Innings package they’re used to getting on cable. Pete Rose continues to put on an embarrassing show that really is worthy of some Hall of Fame somewhere by trying to turn "I never bet on baseball so it didn’t affect my managing" to "I bet on baseball every night so it couldn’t've affected my managing." What a spectacle.

Dopers and liars and cheats, oh, my! That’s a lot on anybody’s plate, no pun intended. So, how does baseball respond to all this?

Just how you would expect them to: by kicking Johnny Pesky out of the dugout.

Gordon Edes reports that once again MLB has gotten back on its’ high horse and decided that since the nearly ninety-year-old Pesky is not welcome in the Red Sox dugout. The rules allow for players, manager, and six coaches in uniform and in the dugout, and since Pesky is none of those, he’s out. Senior VP for baseball operations Joe Garagiola, Jr. put it this way: "Teams feel with some justification that an extra person could be a potential advantage, an additional set of eyes and ears for a manager. Somebody’s job, for example, could be to bear down on the other club’s third base coach and pick up signs."

Okay…let’s just think about this. Johnny Pesky is eighty-eight years old. What are the chances he is sitting there slyly next to Tito, using his ancient bionic eyes to steal signs? My guess, if anything, is that Pesky is more of a distraction than a potential advantage there in the dugout. But he has been allowed to stay out of respect and affection, and as a symbol of the team’s storied past. Because it’s not just Johnny Pesky sitting there in the dugout. It’s Pesky and Williams and Yaz and the ’46 and ’67 pennants and the millions of Red Sox fans who have filed through the old park over the past 65 years. Johnny Pesky is a connection, a tangible link to a time not that long past that is captured in the living memory of fewer and fewer of us. It is to be preserved and revered, not callously discarded because it’s not in strict observance of the "rules." Joe Jr. comes from a rather storied baseball tradition himself. He should know this without me having to tell him.

Tell you what, Joe. You poll every major league team and ask them if they consider the presence of the iconic old man a threat, and see what they say. I’ll betcha not one-not even those arrogant, paranoid Yankees-will tell you they are the least bit worried about Johnny Pesky stealing their signs. If you hear all that and then still kick him out, we’ll know then that MLB is more concerned with enforcing arbitrary rules than honoring its’ own traditions and memories.

And that would be a shame. 

Does anybody here remember the one season of the XFL? I watched a few games of it back in the day, but you know the thing I remember most (well, besides "He Hate Me")? It was the contrived, made-for-TV fued between governor-come-colorman Jesse Ventura and the head coach of a team called the NY/NJ Hitmen, Rusty Tillman.  Jesse got miffed that Rusty wouldn’t participate in a lot on-field interviews (the coach was probably afraid that someone he knew would see him there) so began taunting the coach and calling him gutless. Tillman responded that Ventura should just shut up and go back to the governor’s mansion. Andy Hanaseck, XFL "analyst" (whatever that was) noted, "NBC must be licking its chops…..the prospect of seeing the Minnesota governor get clocked by Tillman, or vice versa, could drive ratings up by itself." Of course, that’s what it was supposed to do, but fell flat.

For those of you a little older, a similar situation occurred years before in 1982, when comedian Andy Kaufman got into a screaming, obscenity-laced tirade with pro wrestler Jerry Lawler (there’s those wrestlers again!) on "Late Night with David Letterman," prompting a protracted fued. Of course, it was all a stunt, played for laughs and ratings.  Lawler and Kaufman were actually friends.

Now, round three: Curt Schilling vs Dan Shaughnessy. Shaughnessy, master of the poison pen, has written several less than flattering pieces about Schilling, fondly known in intimate circles as "The Mouth." On February 2, Schilling had this to say about the way he felt Shaughnessy did his job: "I think there’s things that you write that are absolutely and totally unequivocally uncalled for. I think you take personal vendettas to the paper. I think you rip people in the paper because you don’t like them whether they’re good people or not." On his blog 38Pitches, Schill referred to Shaughnessy as a "giant sphincter."

Well, today in his column, Shaughnessy took aim and scored a direct hit, portraying the spotlight-loving Schill as an overbearing egomaniac and the usually adoring fans that post to his blog as a bunch of drooling, moon-eyed minions.

The things that make you go hmmmm….

Now, I am not cynical enough-yet, although it wouldn’t surprise me if I am wrong-to postulate that this is a completely contrived fued ala Kaufman and Lawler, but clearly there is something else going on here. I am reminded of a line oft quoted by NY Times columnist David Brooks, although he may not be the originator of it: "When two men fight over a woman, it’s the fight they want, not the woman." Since there are no two men who like a good fight better than Shaughnessy and Schilling, it stands to reason that they both have a seriously vested interest in continuing the escalating war of words and making sure it plays out in public. Already, the wagons have begun to circle.

IMO, it’s all theater. Act I over and done, and now on to Act II.

Just remember, guys, if the product on the field isn’t good, the personalities won’t matter. After all, it didn’t save the XFL…

"People ask me what I do in winter. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring."-Rogers Hornsby

There are lots of reasons one wouldn’t choose to live in the Northeast, or near the coast. The rising cost of living can rapidly outstrip one’s ability to pay for it…it’s too busy in the summer, too dead in the winter…and if we don’t do something about global warming pretty soon, then we’re all going to be under water in a few short decades anyway.  Why bother?

Well, these are the days when I remember why I make the sacrifice. It’s a beautiful day here, about 55 degrees and sunny, so I made the short (<1 mile) jaunt from my house to the beach this morning. I’m so glad I did, I feel rejuvenated, like Rip Van Winkle must have after his long nap. I was greeted by lots of smiling people with romping dogs, bursting at the seams to be out in the ocean air after being cooped up for so long. A pair of brave mockingbirds which followed me along the beach path as I reacquainted myself with what it was like to climb over rocks, sit on the craggy beach, and smell the salt air that’s made it’s way into my bloodstream. It’s spring, and life begins again.

That is, in part, I believe why we New Englanders are so fond of our Boston Red Sox. It isn’t just about the game, although that’s important too. It’s that indescribable feeling of renewal that washes over us everytime the snow starts to melt a little and we venture out of our previously battoned-down bungalows and capes for the first time after a long winter. Opening Day makes it official: If the Red Sox are playing, it must be spring, and that means that winter is finally over!

Can summer be far behind…?