As I woke this morning, I found myself remembering stories about my Dad, Hubert J. Kelley.

Dad was a big Red Sox fan. Before he reached his first birthday, the Sox won the World Series. Before he hit two they won it again. And a third time before he hit four. Then came the big wait.

He went to Boston Latin, the oldest public high school in America, Class of 1931. Traditionally, Boston Latin would seat the 50th reunion class in the front row at Commencement, with the current class sitting right behind them starting with row two. At his 50th in 1981, Dad turned to the young lady sitting behind him and said, “When I was sitting where you’re sitting, the guy sitting where I’m sitting was from the Class of 1881.” Yikes. She had no idea what to say to that.

Dad was a Freshman at Harvard when he was 16, Class of1935. He was recruited on campus as a coxswain for the rowing team. Supposedly someone passed him in the Yard and said, “Hey, you’re pretty short – wanna be a coxswain?” While at Harvard he met my mother, Barbara Riley, Radcliffe ’36. They married in 1941.

When my older brother Hugh was born, my Grandmother announced that that baby must be named Hubert J. Kelley, Jr. or she wouldn’t even come and look at it. (Never let the truth stand in the way?) Dad, having grown up as Hubert, wouldn’t wish that name on any kid. So they named my brother Hugh, perhaps hoping that Grandma wouldn’t figure it out.

When I was born, Dad wanted to name me after Bobby Doerr, the Red Sox Hall of Fame 2nd baseman. The retired #1 at Fenway is for Doerr. Robert Pershing Doerr Kelley. My mother would have none of it.

When Hugh and I were little, Dad would tell us bedtime stories about the “Wellesley Indians” with a left-handed chief, or about Walt Dropo’s shoes. Dropo was Rookie of the Year in 1950 and evidently had huge feet. Or huge shoes, anyway. Dad still smoked back then (at the time smoking wasn’t dangerous – according to the ads it actually helped your digestion). As he told us stories in the dark you could see just the red tip of the cigarette, then the whole room would light up for a second when he took a puff, then it was dark again.

He deliberately misunderstood song lyrics. He thought (or claimed to think) that “She’s About A Mover” by the Sir Douglas Quintet was “Peanut Butter Nougat.” Or that “Wild Thing” by the Troggs was “Wow Zing.” Basically, this was an open plea for a “Come on, Dad!”

Back in my Junior High days, Dad decided that Stephanie Hart, who lived on Marvin Road near the bottom of the hill on Radcliffe Road, was a “snappy dish.” He mentioned numerous girls in the ensuing years who he regarded as a snappy dish, or SD, and that one of us boys might want to pursue. Never happened. Our idea of an SD and Dad’s did not completely jibe.

Dad always appreciated a funny card. Once he gave me a birthday card that said, “Happy Bat Mitzvah.” He wrote, “It’s not the right card, of course, but it was half-price.”

“Never let the the truth stand in the way of a good story.” Good storytelling is a hallmark of the Irish, and this is an excellent line that I’ve quoted many times.

“Whoever you marry, make sure it’s someone you can get along with on a daily basis.” In my experience that’s as true as anything I ever heard.

Wherever you go to to school, it should be a place that, when you name it, no one asks, “Where is that?” Easy for him to say, of course. He went to Harvard.

When I told him that I wanted to get into radio and I was really impressed when Victor Best, the owner of Northeast Broadcasting School, came to Wellesley High on career day. He told me to go ask someone in the business what he thought of NBS. I chased down Arnie “Woo Woo” Ginsburg at remote at Dario Ford in Boston’s South End, and Arnie told me, “Don’t do it. Go to a regular four-year college and get a job at the campus radio station.” Which is what I did. Dad was eternally grateful to Woo Woo.

Growing up, I was definitely the black sheep of the family. One day, in about 1975, I was in the kitchen at my parent’s house and Dad looked at me and said, “You know, you’ve turned into a fairly reasonable person.” That was his sense of humor, but I really appreciated it.

In 1978, the Red Sox had an A- season, getting off to an excellent start and building up a 14-game lead over the Yankees by the All-Star break. The Yankees chipped away, caught up and then went ahead by 3-1/2 games during the “Boston Massacre” weekend in September. The Sox caught the Yankees on the final day of the regular season, forcing a one-game playoff. That was the Bucky-bleeping-Dent game. The cheap homer by Dent was served up by former Yankee and Wellesley resident Mike Torrez (the last guy to wear #21 prior to Clemens) . Dad was on the Wellesley Board of Assessors, and the next day they convened an emergency meeting to raise the assessment on Torrez‘ house. That’ll teach him.

In 1986 the Red Sox had another A- season, taking hold of 1st place in May and never relinquishing it. In the ALCS they were losing to the Angels, 3 games to 1, and losing in Game 4 in Anaheim. We were watching on the porch of my house in Syracuse and Dad left the room is disgust when the Brian Downing fly ball bounced off Dave Henderson’s glove and over the fence for a home run. He missed it in the top of the next inning when Hendu made up for it with a home run to the same spot that gave the Sox the win.

He claimed that he could get from any place in Greater Boston to any other place faster than anyone…without speeding or breaking any laws. This was because he knew exactly which roads to take, which lane to be in an any point, and how to avoid as many lights as possible. At my uncle’s funeral in 1985, as we headed from the church to the cemetery, Dad pointed out that a funeral procession does not have to stop for red lights. “Isn’t it ironic? You spend you whole life waiting for red lights. Then, when you’re dead and it doesn’t matter anymore, you can go through them.”

He died on June 8, 1989. 20 years ago this month.

On what would have been his 90th birthday, December 1, 2004, I stopped by the grave where he and my mother are buried. I said out loud, “Happy 90th, Dad. Here are a couple of headlines you’d like: The Red Sox won the World Series. And Kara got into Harvard!” My daughter, Kara, indeed got into Harvard, Class of 2009, and graduated just a couple of weeks ago. Dad would have been absolutely tickled silly to be there.

On this Father’s Day, 2009, I deeply appreciate what a great Dad he was. I’ve tried to live up to that standard with my daughters, Caitlin and Kara. They have both been – and continue to be – an absolute joy. They write me the greatest cards you can imagine.

There are many, but here are a few recent ones for me. I’m only counting games that I attended.

2004 ALCS Game 3. The Sox were already down 2 games to none as Ace #1 – Curt Schilling – couldn’t make 50,000 New Yorkers shut up. Ace #2 – Pedro Martinez – didn’t fare any better. The series moved to Boston for Game 3, but torrential downpours forced the game to be moved back a day. On Saturday night, October 16th, I took my daughter Kara to Game 3 and it went from washout to blowout. We actually left in the 7th when it was 17-6. It wound up being 19-8. They were making jokes about it that night on SNL.

Game 4 was Sunday night, and I took my other daughter,
Caitlin. We saw Larry David on the way in. I decided to say something to him, but not a no-shit comment like, “Hey, you’re Larry David.” So I said to him, “Larry, are you rooting for the San Diego Padres?” He looked at me with that “Huh?”expression of this. “Why would I say that?” Because I was thinking of an episode of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” where he was invited to a Yankees-Padres Interleague game and he winds up stiffing the guy. I couldn’t remember which episode that was. The Red Sox were ahead 3-1 until the 8th, when Derek Jeter hit a bases-loaded triple to make it 4-3. New York. As we went to the bottom of the 9th Mariano Rivera took the mound for New York. Boston was down three games to none – a defecit no team had even overcome – and we’re losing in the 9th inning of game 4. We were seemingly on the verge of getting swept by the Damn Yankees. Kevin Millar leads off the 9th with a walk. Dave Roberts pinch runs for Millar, who describes himself as “slow as molasses.” Everyone in the ballpark and across New England knows that Roberts is going to attempt a steal. Before Rivera throws the first pitch to Bill Mueller he throws over to 1st to keep Roberts close. And again. And again. On the third throw over to 1st Roberts dives back head first, then gets us and starts heading toward the dugout. Dammit, he got picked off! The View From Section 29 really made it look he’d been picked off. There goes our last chance. But no, he was just brushing the dirt off his pants. Roberts returns to 1st. Rivera delivers a pitch to Mueller and Roberts makes the “steal of the century” (the century being four years old at that point). Safe. On the next pitch Mueller singles to center and Roberts scores the tying run. On it went until about 1:30 in the morning when Big Papi launched one into the night for the 6-4 win. We got home at 2AM and I couldn’t sleep. An incredibly exciting game. Also, I couldn’t stop thinking about my run-in with Larry David. What the hell episode was it where he skips the Yankees-Padres game? Was I thinking of the episode where he picks up a hooker whose car broke down? No, that was in LA and he takes her to the game. This took place in New York. I went to the Curb Your Enthusiasm site and scoured the episode guide. Nothing. At 6AM, after very little sleep, I called the morning show and told them my dilemma. They thought I was nuts, but they also didn’t know the answer. Later that day it came to me. It wasn’t Curb Your Enthusiasm, it was The Sopranos. Vito invites Meadow’s boyfriend Finn to game and Finn is wary (with good reason) and doesn’t show. No wonder Larry David didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.

Game 5 was at 5PM on Monday. I went with my brother Hugh. The early start time turned out to be helpful, as this one went on for 14 innings. Tim Wakefield pitched five scoreless innings in relief. We were both scoring the game, as usual, and each time we flipped the book over to to who the Yankees had coming up it seemed like it was Jeter, A Rod, Giambi, Matsui, Sheffield and Posada.every inning. It finally ending when Ortiz doubled and Johnny Damon scored. Those were absolutely unforgettable games.

Opening Day, 2005. Yankees in town. They had to stand there and watch the whole Red Sox ring ceremony. You gotta love it.

April 22, 2007. I’m at the game with Kara. Sunday night ESPN Game of the Week. Dike-K facing a Chase Wright. The Red Sox are down 3-0 in the 3rd when Manny launches a skyrocket into the Monster seats, so we’re on the board. Next up is JD Drew, who plants one in the Red Sox bullpen. Then comes Mikey Lowell, who sends a shot exactly where Manny did. And then Jason Varitek hits the first pitch into the same spot as Manny and Lowell. Back-to-back-to-back-to-back home runs. It was like watching instant replay live.

April 24, 2009. Friday night, Kathy and I have a date. Yankees in town for the first series of the year. Joba Chamberlain starts for New York, and walks Jacoby Ellsbury to open the game. Jacoby moves to second on a Joba balk. Then there’s a pitch in the dirt that goes to the backstop. Jacoby, who is off on the pitch, barrels around third and scores. (This is the second time he has scored from 2nd on a passed ball.) As the game goes on, New York pulls ahead 4-2. With two outs in the bottom of the 9th Jason Bay hits a homer just over the Monster by the flag pole to tie it up. In the bottom of the 11th Youk launches a shot that everyone knew was gone the moment it left the bat. Cue up Dirty Water and Tessie.

April 25, 2009. The next night the Yankees jump out to a 6-0 lead in the 4th, but the Sox answer big time. The final is 16-11. Boston.

April 26, 2009. On Sunday night, on national TV, Andy Pettitte is on the mound for New York. Pettitte is well-known for his excellent pickoff move and almost no one steals on him. Bases are loaded. Ellsbury on 3rd. As Pettitte starts his windup, Ellsbury takes off and steals home. TV cameras didn’t catch it because it was unexpected. Sox won, 4-1.

June 9, 2009. The Yankees come back to town in 1st place with a one-game lead. In game one Beckett shuts out New York, 7-0. Big Papi homered and got an amazing fan reaction for a guy who’s BA is below the Mendoza line. He even got s curtain call.

June 10th, Wakefield wins his 8th game and Wang goes to 0-4. Lowell and Youk both homer. Papelbon makes it interesting in the 9th, but the Sox hold on, 6-5.

June 11th. Brad Penny vs. CC Sabbathia. David Oritz omers again in the 2nd, another curtain call. Manny Delcarmen takes over in the 7th and blows the lead by giving up a single, a double, a walk, and another double. A Rod only got to gloat for an inning. Bottom of the 8th five straight singles and a sac bunt, and we’re back on top. Papelbon has a rare 1-2-3 9th, and we win 4-3. That’s 8 stright against the Yankees. Hasn’t happened since 1912.

A few stupid lines from commercials.
“A few” always means three, right? A couple is two, a few is three, and several is four or more. I could give you a hundred without blinking, but here are three recent ones.

We live here, too.
No you don’t. Last summer Bank of America ran a series of ads claiming that they’re a local bank and they live here, just like us, and they’re huge Red Sox fans.

W: What do the numbers 6, 10 and 17 mean?
M: I’m not sure.
W: That’s the number of Red Sox World Series Championships, American League Pennants and playoff appearances.

No wonder the guy didn’t know. Those numbers were wrong. The ad was probably written by a junior copywriter in New York who’s a Yankee fan at heart. The correct numbers – as of last September – would have been 7, 12 and 19. Today it would be 7, 12 and 20. World Series Championships in 1903, 1912, 1915, 1916, 1918, 2004 and 2007. American League Pennants in 1903, 1904, 1912, 1915, 1916, 1918, 1946, 1967, 1975, 1986, 2004, 2007. Additional playoff appearances in 1988, 1990, 1995, 1998, 1999, 2003, 2005 and 2008.

Where did they get those incorrect numbers?
I actually called the ad agency in New York to point out their mistakes – simply to be helpful. After all, they’re spending a lot of money on ads saying they live here and they’re fans and they’re quoting numbers that any true fan knows are wrong. They got the idea that the Boston Americans, who won the very first World Series in 1903 and won the the American League Pennant in 1904 were a different team than the Red Sox, which is clearly incorrect. I pointed out that the Boston team has been the same since 1901 and they sell lots of t-shirts saying that. True, the nickname wasn’t adopted until December of 1907 when they got new uniforms with socks that were red instead of blue. By the way, team nickname changes were not uncommon back then. In fact, every original team except the Detroit Tigers has changed its nickname at some point. The Yankess were the HIghlanders, the Dodgers were the Robins, the Indians were the Blues, the Braves were the Beaneaters, and so on. I pointed out that the 1907 Americans and the 1908 Red Sox had the same owner, same manager, played in the same ballpark, and had eight of the same starters. Including Cy Young.

They told me they had called the Red Sox office and a spokesperson confirmed that the numbers they quoted were correct. Obvious bullshit. There’s no way anyone on Yawkey Way said that. I sent them a picture of the pennants hanging off the building that start with “1903 World Champions” and “1904 American League Champions” and have the Red Sox logo. (The Red Sox should probably be awarded the 1904 World Championship by default, as the NL Champion New York Giants were annoyed that the upstart AL had won the first Series the previous year and refused to participate in the 1904 Series.) I pointed out that even the Yankee fans knew the correct number. Rememebr the “Got rings?” t-shirts that were printed after 2004? They showed 6 Red Sox rings and 26 Yankee rings. (2007 hadn’t happened yet.)

Re-cutting the ad would have cost them money and they didn’t really care whether they sounded like fake fans who don’t really live here.

A walkoff triple?
Last summer Friendly’s ran an ad about going to a Little League game on a warm night. Bobby hits a walkoff triple and they all go to Friendly’s to enjoy Happy Ending sundaes. What’s wrong? There’s no such thing as a walkoff triple. To get a walkoff, you have to be either tied or trailing in the bottom of the last inning. If the game is tied and there’s a runner on first when Bobby gets a hit and the runner comes around for the game-winning run, Bobby gets credit for a double. If that runner is on second, Bobby’s hit is an RBI single, because a runner on second is considered to be in scoring position. If the team is down by a run and there are runners on second and third, a hit will win the game, but the batter only gets credit for a single. Let’s say there are runners on first and second and Bobby gets a hit that scores both runners. It’s a walkoff double. If you’re down by two runs and the bases are loaded and Bobby has a bases-clearing hit that wins the game…it’s still a walkoff double. If you’re down by three and the bases are loaded it requires a grand slam. A homer, of course, is a homer…but only if it goes over the fence. In a field with no fence that game would end when the winning run crosses the plate – regardless of where the batter is at that point. Talking about a walkoff triple means the copywriter doesn’t know what he or she is talking about.

One more like that.
There’s a Papa Gino’s ad currently running that says, “Rally your team with the Papa Ginos double-play deal.” It’s two pizzas for the price of one or something like that. The problem? If your team is trying to rally and there’s a double-play…what happens? The rally is killed, that’s what. Just ask Julio Lugo.

There’s more than one.
There’s a rocky ledge. It looks like the place they used in “Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid” during the “Who are those guys?” scene. On the top of the ledge you see a Grand Cherokee. And a Liberty. And a Wrangler. The super says “Jeep. There’s only one.” I know what they mean, of course, but it sure looks like a few Jeeps to me.

I don’t want to drive all over the state.
This is a radio ad. What I call a “Hey, honey” dialogue commercial. It opens with the woman.

W: Hey honey, how about we take in some great live music tonight?
M: I’m listening.
W: Then catch a rising comedian.
M: Sounds good.
W: After that we can try our luck with the slot machines.
M: Hmm.
W: Then use our winnings to get a great steak and an Irish brew.
M: Great. But I don’t want to drive all over the state.
W: Honey, we don’t have to. It’s all right here at Twin River.

So what’s wrong here? First, Twin River is a goofy name. Shouldn’t it be Twin Rivers? More importantly, Twin River Casino is the former Lincoln Park Dog Track in Lincoln, RI. The commercials run in Boston. So when the guy says he doesn’t want to drive all over the state to get all this great stuff she should say, “We don’t. We have to drive to another state.”

Just one more.
McDonald’s is running a current campaign that says, “You only get one breakfast…so stop by McDonald’s and get two Egg McMuffins for the price of one.” That sounds like two breakfasts.

I realize that was several, not a few, but I was on a roll.

A couple of groups representing performing artists – most notably “musicFIRST” have gained enough support to get HR 848…the Performance Rights Act…to get out of Committee and onto the House floor. Representative John Conyers (D-MI) is the main sponsor. A similar bill in the Senate has support from Senator Patrick Leahy, Barbara Boxer and several others.

What’s this all about? A group of artists is complaining that AM and FM radio (mostly FM, of course) play their music without compensating them. They claim that radio rakes in $19 billion a year by playing their music and they get bupkus.

The NAB – National Association of Broadcasters – and radio stations across America have responded with the Local Radio Freedom Act, designed to insure that local radio stations can continue to play music without an exorbitant Performance Rights Tax.

Who’s telling the truth here?

The facts of the matter are these: Radio has, for decades, enjoyed an exemption from paying performance rights to artists because of the inherent benefit to the artist that radio airplay generates. Ask any artist if he or she would like to have a song hit #1 on the charts? 99% will say, “absolutely!” The benefit of a #1 song – or anything in the top 10 – is legendary.

How do you hit #1? The charts are based on radio airplay. The song that is played the most in a given week – or “gets the most spins” as the industry says – is #1. Simple as that. So if you don’t get played on the radio, you never hit number one… or, for that matter, number anything.

Radio airplay makes stars out of artists. Even one-hit wonders. Ever hear of the Bellamy Brothers? They had a #1 song in 1976, “Let Your Love Flow” that is currently in use on a national TV spot for the Toyota Prius. That was the only hit they ever had, and it went to #1. What about Percy Sledge? He wrote and did the original version of “When a Man Loves a Woman” in 1966.

The reach of radio is astronomical. 94% of all households in America hear the radio every week. That’s approximately three times as many as use Google in a week. Think about that for a second.

Is it true that radio pays nothing for the music? No. Radio pays annual public performance royalties in the millions to BMI (Broadcast Music, Inc.) and to ASCAP (the American Society of Composers, Authors and Producers). I’m not talking millions for the whole industry, I’m talking about 3-4 million to both BMI and ASCAP for one major market station. Add another $60,000 or so for SESAC, a licensing company whose only Pop hit was CW McCall’s “Convoy” in 1976.

So what’s the problem? The problem is that the substantial fees that radio pays to BMI and ASCAP go to the songwriters and producers, not the artists. This is the way the labels set it up years ago.

How much of a tax are we talking? It’s supposed to be .008 cents per performance. Doesn’t sound like that much. But understand that a “performance” is any time anyone hears a song (or portion thereof) on the radio. Let’s do the math for a moment. Take a major market music-based AC station that plays an average of 12 songs per hour. Multiply that times 24 hours, then by 7 days a week, times .008 cents. Then multiply that by the station’s average weekly audience, which is 1.3 million people. The answer is staggering. And that’s just for one station. And that’s on top of the 6 or 7 million already paid to BMI and ASCAP.

What’s more, this is in an economy where local advertising is off by over 20% and many stations have resorted to nationally syndicated programming. Other than top tier stations in major markets, it’s a struggle, and many local radio stations won’t be able to afford it.

What type of artists are waving the musicFIRST flag? Artists who aren’t getting any airplay, that’s who. Maybe they had a hit or two back in the day, but time has passed them by. Today there’s a Town Hall-style meeting in Detroit where a couple of artists representing musicFIRST will debate the issue with local radio stations. The artists are Dionne Warwick and Martha Reeves of the Vandellas. Dionne’s last hit was 25 years ago. Martha’s was over 40 years ago. The other supporters of HR 848 are emerging acts that have yet to emerge. If radio has to pay a tax for every song played, getting airplay will be tougher, not easier. Program Directors will be loath to spend money playing a song that does not have a proven track record of audience appeal. Why take a chance? There’s an old radio adage that goes, “What you don’t play won’t hurt you.” Another one says, “Shut up and play the hits.”

The artists should focus their attention on ASCAP and BMI..and get them to split the songwriter proceeds with the singers. Don’t try to make an adversary out of radio.

Kara and I took a one-day road trip to Minneapolis on Monday. It was the opener of the Red Sox final series at the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome. We flew on Midwest – an excellent airline – with a stop in Milwaukee. I’d been in Wisconsin before – went to Miller Park in 2006 and saw a Brewers-Giants game. This didn’t count as a visited state for Kara, though, as we never left the airport. Airport-only visits don’t count. We landed at he airport in St. Paul at 10:15. Plenty of time to noodle around and check things out. Would Kara like to see the biggest mall in the world? Yes, she would. The Mall of America is, as advertised, huge. Every chain is there. We have all of them in Boston, but not in the same building. The Nickelodeon rollercoaster in the middle – it spins you right round as you drop 100 feet – is a guaranteeed lunch-blower.

On to the Metrodome. Nothing special there. No special songs. About 28,000 showed up. The scoreboard is very rudimentary. The original completely crappy turf field was replaced with a slightly less crappy – but nonetheless crappy – new turf field in 2004. It still sucks. No infield except for base cutouts. The center field fence is a short baggy held in place by wobbly sticks like you’d put along your driveway as a guide for the plow guy. About the height and consistency of a Glad lawn & leaf bag. Toward right field it’s a little taller. In right field they have football seats that collapse like the stands in a high school gym. A baggie is attached to the lower portion of the folded seats. If a ball hits the baggie it’s in play. If it hits above the baggie in the area of the folded up seats it’s a home run. A cheap one. The roof is white canvas, making it difficult to track a fly ball. The bubble roof is held up by air pressure, so the only way to exit the Metrodome is through revolving doors. Imagine how long that takes with 28,00 people filing out through four revolving doors.

An impressive number of Red Sox fans were there. Enough that you could easily hear the “Yooooouuuk” when Youkilis did something. The Sox wore red hats with a blue B that had stars embedded, no doubt because it was Memorial Day. The umpires also wore red hats. I chatted with several people from Minneapolis who readily admitted that the Metrodome is no Fenway Park. “Only 53 games left…then we move to the new open-air Target Field.” People are midwest friendly. One complaint – when Hidecki Okajima came on to pitch the 7th they played “Born In the USA.” Maybe it was an oversight. But I added the Metrodome as the 33rd notch in my major league ballpark tour. I also added Minnesota as the 39th state I’ve visited.

Sonya Sotomayor, President Obama’s nominee for the Supreme Court, is credited with saving baseball. The strike that ended the 1994 season early, canceled the 1994 playoffs and World Series, and delayed the start of the 1995 season finally ended when Judge Sotomayor ruled against the owners in favor of the players.

From the New York Times:

The owners were trying to subvert the labor system, she said, and the strike had “placed the entire concept of collective bargaining on trial.”

After play resumed, The Philadelphia Inquirer wrote that by saving the season, Judge Sotomayor joined forever the ranks of Joe DiMaggio, Willie Mays, Jackie Robinson and Ted Williams. The Chicago Sun-Times said she “delivered a wicked fastball” to baseball owners and emerged as one of the most inspiring figures in the history of the sport.

So Judge Sotomayor grew up in the South Bronx and saved baseball in 1995. The year the Yankees made the playoffs for the first time in 14 years. She’s gotta be a Yankee fan.

A dump button is the radio and TV term for the way to bleep something out of a “live” broadcast that’s actually on a slight delay of seven seconds or so. I didn’t hear it live because I was at the game with my daughter Caitlin. Opening night of Interleague play, Mets at Red Sox. Johan Santana going for New York, Dike-K for Boston in his first start after coming off the DL. He had three good innings followed by a bad one where he gave up a ground-rule double, a walk, then four straight hits.

The next thing you know, it’s 5-1 bad guys. On came Justin Masterson. In my very first post I said that Eckersley is a good color guy…saying things that many color guys wouldn’t come up with. Check the link below, sent to me courtesy of Mark Laurence.

Eck needs a dump button

Big Papi finally homered last Wednesday night and got a rousing ovation. He said the monkey was off his back.

Is the old Ortiz indeed back? Let’s see what he’s done since then. On Wednesday he took a called 3rd on the next at bat, then doubled in the 9th. On Thursday he grounded to 2nd, grounded to the pitcher, singled to right and lined to second. On Friday he struck out three times (two swinging, one called) and grounded into a 4-6-3 double play. On Saturday he struck out twice, walked and grounded to second. On Sunday he struck out twice, flied to left twice and lined to 1st. That’s that’s 2 for 18 with a walk and 1 RBI since the homer. From Thursday on he’s 1 for 16. Over the weekend he went 0 for 13 with 16 runners left on base. Not by the team…by David. And these are all home games. His average has dropped from a lofty .211 on Wednesday to .195. On Sunday the Sox had 16 hits and scored 12 times. Everyone in the lineup except Big Papi had at least one hit and one run scored.

I don’t believe the roid rumors. I do suspect that Ortiz might need lasik. I also suspect that we might see Lars Anderson come up as a DH at some point this season.

Meanwhile, the shortstop problem continues. Nick Green leads the majors in errors, and he’s only played in 24 games. Lugo has another 4. Both have made game-blowing errors in the last week. Combine the Green and Lugo errors and you have 12 in only a quarter of the season. That’s a pace for 48, way worse than Edgar Rent-a-wreck in 2005. And that number doesn’t allow for all those “singles” that were really bobbles or bad throws or balls that Lugo didn’t get to. Compare that to Jed Lowrie, who played short in 49 games last year with zero errors. He’s due back in July.

Mets fans at Fenway are louder than Yankee fans. At least this weekend they were. During the clapping portion of the “Let’s go Red Sox” chant the Mets fans would chime in with an almost equally loud “Let’s go Mets.” But The Sox had the last laugh with a sold win on Sunday, and they moved into 1st place.

I’m off to Minneapolis in the morning with my daughter, Kara. It’s the Red Sox final series at the Homer Dome and we’re taking in the Memorial Day afternoon game.

Last night, Tuesday, I was at Fenway with Kara and had my HD video camera rolling for every pitch that David Ortiz faced. It wasn’t worth saving, as he walked, grounded to second and struck out twice. Before I left work to head to Fenway our afternoon guy, Dan Justin, asked me if I thought that Oritz would homer tonight. I said no. We discussed the idea that Lasik might help him. He doesn’t seem to be “seeing the ball real good.”

Tonight I was at home flipping back and forth between American Idol and the Red Sox game. The Sox were ahead 2-0 when I flipped over to Idol. When I flipped back at the next break it was 8-0! Papi had gone yard to straightaway center…and I missed it. There were three Jason jacks in the game as well. Two by Varitek and one off the bat of Bay. The season is less than a quarter gone and Varitek is pacing for 28 homers. Bay is pacing for 52 (more than Manny has ever hit in a season).

I saw Kris Allen upset Adam Lambert in Idol. I’m not surprised, because the judges were gushing all over Adam so much, week after week, that I suspected a setup. At the last minute (actually about five minutes late) Kris is announced as the winner. Keeps things interesting until the last second.

But I missed the Papi home run. Reruns on TV are not the same. In the postgame interview he said he really appreciated the fans sticking by him. Oritz is a good guy and I’m glad he got the monkey of his back.