My dad and I went to Mets Opening Day, which is a special time in a place that’s been largely allergic to special times for 27 years.
Well that was worth waiting for, huh? I have to admit I didn’t see any of it until just now. I went to Mets Opening Day, mistakenly thinking that the Sox and Yankees were playing Monday night instead of at the exact same time. But man oh man, was it fun watching those numbers on the Citifield scoreboard. 2-0. 5-2. 8-2. It was like watching a bear market spring to life. It was tomorrow, and, like Annie promised, the sun had finally come out.
Since this is a Jackie Bradley, Jr. blog, let’s focus on dude’s three walks and ridiculous catch in left. Walking in your first at-bat against CC Sabathia, as a lefty no less, is a good sign. Maybe the service time discussion is moot — why would the Red Sox send him down to Triple-A when they’re on pace to finish 162-0? — but it’s likely still a major issue, now that Bradley’s got to be sent to the minors for 20 days in order to delay his free agency until 2020. There seems little question that Bradley gives the Sox the best lineup they could have right now, and Ben Cherington is determined the figure out the rest later. Everything broke right for the Sox in this game, and that won’t happen every day, but it’s pretty great when it seems like ages since anything went right. The Sox are off today, then back at it tomorrow night in the Bronx. I might be there, but the Mets emptied my pocketbook to the tune of $115 per ticket for the opener. Those Mets fans love their Opening Days.
Anyhow, it was the Sox’s day. Take it away, Rodney:
Mere hours now until the crack of the bat, and Fenway at night, and me, still cable-having, taking it all in, wondering whether I’m ready. I mean sure I’m ready now but now isn’t then. Once Josh Beckett throws that first pitch we’re off toward October and there’s no going back. No more trips to the frame store, no more three mile runs in the elongated week just after Daylight Savings Time, no more whipping up last-minute travel plans, trying to get home. Baseball will be back and after a week it will hard to remember a time that it wasn’t there, pacing life like a metronome.