I have to hurry up and finish Derek Sanderson’s book.
Terry Francona and Dan “Big Bird” Shaughnessy have written a book giving lots of behind the scenes dirt on the Boston Red Sox during Francona’s tenure as manager. This is just the sort of thing that a psychotic Sox fan like me needs to read. Likewise it’s the kind of thing that non obsessed sports fans would look at and think, who gives a rats ass.
Sanderson’s book has been fun. By fun I mean fun in the way that hearing reformed alcoholics telling stories of drunken debauchery from their drinking days is fun. In other words, the stories are often really funny, but the subtext is kind of sad. Reading about him driving down the walkway in the middle of Comm Ave in Boston in an attempt to make it to Logan Airport on time, and then, despite being completely blitzed, getting a police escort into the airport, is one seriously funny story, but knowing what it was costing him is sort of painful. One thing the book is doing is making me want to read the soon to be released Bobby Orr autobiography. Sanderson gives the impression that the ’70 and ’72 Cup winning teams were more or less the result of Bobby Orr’s will alone. Bobby wasn’t the captain, but his word was law. He was King both on and off the ice.
The other thing that trying to rush through the rest of the book is doing is making my eyes tired. I’m basically seeing double as I try to type this. I need a nap.