PATRICK MCVAY

WRITER

My Musings

This text is currently hidden by a css change. Alow's me to go directly to the category description because it is editable in the front end,

They Lack That In Great Quantities

I wish I had the job of a baseball color commentator. Some of them know a thing or two about the game, having played it at the big-league level, sometimes well, but often not terribly well at all, though well enough to have made it to the biggest stage in the world before embarrassing themselves with two out in the bottom of the ninth and the whole world watching. Most don't know so much more than you or I about baseball. They just know some of the game's famous players, having showered alongside them when they were having their so-called "cup of coffee" in the majors. 

And yet, here they come into our living rooms with important-sounding titles such as "analyst," which suggests that they have received advance training to interpret your dreams or pick apart your psyche. Maybe they just know how to read data tables. In truth, they are there because fans would rather listen to former ballplayers talk about the game nostalgically and with a modicum of objectivity, rather than listen to you whine about a call that, in truth, was probably correct.

This may be how Lou Merloni, who played a bit part for his hometown Red Sox from 1998 to 2002, is allowed to "commentate" (a word that needn't ever have been created, given the existence of "comment") on Red Sox radio broadcasts now and again. This season, early on, Lou managed to concoct a phrase that I had never heard a baseball analyst utter. Speaking of the young Red Sox, Lou noted that Alex Cora's squad had "a ton of inexperience."

This turn of phrase – indicating that the absence of something – experience – was really the presence of something else – inexperience, was clever, even if Lou didn't mean it to be. It's like saying that you have an infinite amount of nothing.

Reminds me of a former roommate I had when I lived on Murdock Street in Brighton, who once replied affirmatively, sort of, to some question I had tossed his way by saying, "For sure, probably." 

Thanks for being clear. 

Continue reading
  102 Hits

Let's Cut To The Chase

It seems like just yesterday – ok, maybe two or three days ago – that the Red Sox were disencumbering the 2004 Yankees of yet more American League Championship hardware by winning the final four games of that seven-game series to cap the most excruciating and scintillating era of sports in my lifetime. The series included Dave Roberts' stolen base and tying run, an 11-inning game, a 14-inning game, a bloody sock, and the absolute pummeling of the despised (by me) Yanks in the Bronx. My life was changed forever!

Prior to that moment, everything was shit. I had nothing to live for. Sure, I had a wife who loved me (well, liked me – I think) and a dog who loved me as well (well, appreciated that I fed her), a house, a good job, and bike. But I also had one hell of an attitude and clothing that fit poorly.

When the Sox finally won a World Series after 86 years of frustration, avenues of hope opened for me. I became the head of a large corporation and everyone, even my dog, became effusive with adoration. (You can fact check that; I'll give you some highly reliable sources.) People threw jobs at me for which I was completely unqualified. To show my appreciation I rose to the occasion, mostly by taking night classes. I became famous in the quiet sort of way that humble people like myself become famous, which is to say not terribly famous at all. Still, people looked at me differently. They said that I had a bounce in my step, which people had formerly misinterpreted as a limp. Ha, me, limp. Not a chance!

Anyway, today those same Red Sox (sort of) will be playing those same Yankees (kind of, ish,) to determine who has the right to lose to the Rays in the divisional series. (Why does the world have to have Rays anyway!). A one-game long series in which you win or go home. No six-game lead-up to the final chapter or any of that other nonsense!

I'll be watching. Will you? 

Continue reading
  638 Hits

 

 

J'Biden Era Haikuage

 

People's Arms. That's right!

200 million shots

In 100 days

 

We are good people

But we still have far to go

Repair. Restore. Heal.

 

There's nothing new here

The Affordable Care Act

We're restoring it 

 

America's Day

Democracy is fragile

The world is watching 

 

Strategy is based

On Science, not politics

Truth, not denial

 

 

Subscribe To The Blog

Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!

Tag Cloud

Mass General Hospital Folk Music People I know My Estate Work Bill Monroe afterlife Spice Girls Soviet Union Vaccines COVID Good Reads Syracuse War and Peace Chowder Vaughn Diseases vacation First World Problems Fiction Eating and Drinking Allergies BB King Hurricanes China Ice Dancing town square Mike Doughty Cornhole star The Old Days Pats Peacekeeping Them Kids Canada Hot Air Balloon tambourrine curling shoes coronavirus Mustard Soup Car Dealerships The Past Big Shoes Guns and Ammo Cars Bands I haven't seen cornhole Drumming Coyotes Roommates I've Had Theater Christmas Elvis Presley Hawaii Liz Phair Bodysurfing Golf the sea Food Skiing seasons Existential Crisis Boston US Senate Brain Surgery Knots My grandparents soapbox rantings Politics As Usual Red Sox My sisters Accounting Beer Bands I've seen Hand Planes acerbic high school principal The Future Ukraine Bikes weather Barber Shops Reveillon 1980s Advertising Bicycles Art When I die Audubon Bar Bunker Hache Verde Ticketmaster Wind Higher Education Martinis Eclipse Audio The future Scotch and Sirloin the future Things I've done midwinter vacations My Parents technology Sports Earth Grass Skiing Texting Biden Putin Ketchup Quebect plan mid-winter vacations Godfather TV Rabbit Hole Marketing Gimmicks Religion Dad advice Cats Snow Guns Royal Stuff Bob Dylan Joan Jett Stairs Soul Coughing NPR Plastic Weather high winds Me Tom Waits Yeast Bands I've Seen Canadiana nukes Trump Rock Bands Spoon the band Sugarbush Music New England Climate Change Zoom gathering throngs Skating Belgian Ales Imaginings baseball Communication Channels punk music COVID-19 Email Mom and Dad