Fenway sounds (or, A Town Called Malice)

We made our first trip to Fenway Park this year to see the Sox take down the Nationals on Monday night, with Terri’s parents. Some random notes:

  • Another reason to like Mike Lowell: his at-bat song is “London Calling”
  • We got a chuckle when the Fenway sound crew played the “Three’s Company” theme song when two Nationals went out to the pitcher’s mound for a conference.
  • Happy to see Gabe Kapler back at Fenway for the first time since his utterly bizarre Achilles tendon rupture last year. He got a standing O; in anyplace other than Fenway, a standing O for a part-time outfielder would seem weird.
  • So, I can’t figure out if the Fenway sound people played “A Town Called Malice” by The Jam when lackluster reliever Rudy Seanez came out of the pen because Rudy picked it, or because the sound guys were making a comment on the fact that he was getting booed mercilessly. If it’s the latter, might I suggest “A Message to You, Rudy” for next time?
  • Terri and I resumed our standing discussion of what our closer songs would be. I still stick by “Stigmata” by Ministry. Terri, in a similar vein, but far more ingeniously, sticks with, “Control I’m Here” by Nitzer Ebb, which I should let her explain, because I don’t want to steal her thunder more than I just did. I wish I had thought of it.
  • And here’s an mp3 of the fans singing along to Sweet Caroline. A few seconds in you can hear an announcement that the Nationals put in former Sox and Damon-noggin-clocker Damien Jackson.

The child is the father of the man

Unremitting Failure reminds me of that Wordsworth poem, and that reminds me that there’s something that has always bugged me about the Romantics, and it’s similar to what bugs me about all this indigo children crap. It’s this faith in children, this faith in the benevolence of nature. Children are mean little shits. Nature can kill a hundred thousand people in a matter of minutes.

Of course, the only people worse than people that worship nature are those who believe that you need to fight it. I’m not so mean spirited to think that you should fight nature, and certainly not so hubristic to think that you can win. But you can pick your battles.