Once icon, once bitter, always Nomar.(sportsofboston.com)
This past Wednesday, it was if another part of my childhood reached a conclusion when Nomar decided to come back (for one day) and retired in the uni in which it all began. Nomar's retirement not only grabbed the attention of the many Sox fanatics who witnessed him play, but also stirred up some emotions that hadn't been touched in over a half decade, maybe longer. For me, it's a kaleidoscope of childhood memories of emulating his stance, remembering the messy divorce of 2004 and the thoughts of possibly could have been in a whole array of situations. In short, my thoughts as varied as the many idiosyncrasies in the shortstop's stance. Even before he started rolling .300s on major league pitching, I remember my first Pawsox game, a game in which some shortstop with a unrecognizable last name hit the go-ahead homer in a wild game against the Syracuse Chiefs. Not only did I remember that name from then on out, but probably like many other fans who see a future major league star catch a glimpse of greatness before the bigs, we were all part owners of his MLB experience. The seed of emotional investment was already planted even before his breakout rookie campaign the year after. The multi-grand slam games, the hit streaks, the OCD that we all imitated and the SNL sketches, it was not hard for a baseball-crazed city to fall for 'Nomah'. But then he became the cover boy of all Sports Illustrated cover boys when he tweaked his wrist in Spring Training, slowly rolling his stellar career into a downhill trajectory. Even worse is that after looking at a ripped Nomar though the lens of a steroid-crazed sports society, there is that unavoidable wondering of whether PEDs were part of the rise and fall of what could have been a Hall of Fame career. Sure his batting averages were still stellar and he was still in the triumvirate of titans at shortstop along with A-Rod and Jeter, but his diminishing defensive range and his knack for swinging at nearly every pitch made the gruesome divorce inevitable, especially when an OBP/defense conscious ownership came to play ball for the Sox. We all know the story. A 4-year, $60 million dollar contract was turned down, he was a few million dollars away from being traded away from the city that adored him in exchange for another part of the shortstop triumvirate and only bitterness remained. I was totally against the trade not only for Nomar, but a Manny Ramirez in his prime would be shipped out along with a emerging left-handed pitcher named Jon Lester, however I was on the side of many others that Nomar should have seen this a business. He did turn down the biggest offer the team made, so naturally an organization will cue up other options. But at the same time, you can't blame him for being human. I mean, I've been laid-off by a company I had worked at for a long time near Christmas time, but he found out about the trade on his honeymoon for crying out loud. It wasn't necessarily an excuse to carry that animosity into a clubhouse of guys who have no involvement with the wheeling and dealing, especially when your rival counterpart flies into the seats while you're on the bench. However, I do understand the exhaustion of compassion and lack of motivation. Still, neither myself or the rest of us Sox fanatics were not prepared for what was to come on that last day of July, 2004.
The best medicine for idol departure.(blogs.riverfronttimes.com)
I remember going on ESPN.com that day seeing Nomar, photo shopped into a Cubs uniform. The departure finally happened. With all the vitriol between player and organization, I guess I had to prepare for the inevitability. He did all he could here, but it was a mixture of declining skill and Boston fatigue that did him in the end. The story has been repeated many times. The Sox get O-Cab and would obtain their first title in almost nine decades, all without the guy that we thought was going to be the alpha dog in the day when the Sox finally got to the throne of coronation. It was sort of that last slap to the face that at the time seemed as if it erased everything that Nomar did and what he meant to us in this city, a sense that those 8 seasons had a fraudulent feel to them. But with deep reflection and the return of Nomar in a Sox uniform at Fort Myers on Wednesday, I totally disagree with all of that. The overall legacy of Nomar in the end has to be a positive one, and the one day re-signing has to be some proof of that. Nomar coming back to us is a sign that somehow, the Red Sox themselves are doing something right in reconciling with stars of years past. Even after the bitterness of the '03-'04 offseason, there were still moodier men and sloppier breakups than this one. Teddy Ballgame and Yaz weren't exactly the jolliest of characters while in Boston and took a long time to muster up any sort of mutual goodwill after their playing days were over, and I think we all know that Roger's tenure with the Sox ended in a prematurely empty locker in the 1996 season. Hell, even the Manny divorce made the Nomar one feel like a Fiji honeymoon, with the faked knee injuries and traveling secretaries a-tumbling under that big top of a mess. Yes, Nomar is that last face of the franchise that symbolized the 'almost, but never quite make it in to the station' Red Sox teams, but all the blame can't be placed on him for that. He also made known that despite his iconic status in a city full of seamheads, in a similar fashion to other Boston heroes of the past, he wasn't going to be an easy-access sound bite. On the same token, it's pretty hard to imagine nowadays the scrutiny and weight that came with being the main cog of lifting a hex that was brought on by a chubby slugger of years past, even only 6 years after obtaining that virtually elusive title. After 8 years of constant poking and prodding, I'd probably be a little ornery, too. You can't remove the fact that he was my buddy Mike's favorite player, and even influenced him, as well as many other youngsters, to be a shortstop extraordinaire. Even with all that Boston fatigue, Nomar never showed any malice towards those fans, such as my buddy Mike, that worshiped the ground he walked on. Along with Mo Vaughn and Pedro Martinez, Nomar was an embraced minority superstar in a city that to this day scares many off. So I could be Dan Shaughnessy and dwell on the bitterness of 2004, or how he got a flat tire on the road to Cooperstown. But by worrying about the peccadilloes, I would be avoiding what a true icon he was on and off the field. Retirements naturally bring about the act of overall reflection on one's legacy, and it's now clearer than ever that Nomar will remain an icon in all the hearts of the fans that followed him back in the day. The injuries and that summer of bitterness can't take away all of the other fantastic memories he provided us, even if one of those was by Jimmy Fallon. He many not have his number 5 retired in the rafters, but he will retire in my heart as a true MVP of this city.
Can't believe that it has taken a music aficionado like me this long to create a section about the songs that have been barricading themselves in my head and putting up a stand. Kinda like the Nomar scenario, my musical mind is a diversely faceted being. There's songs of past and present, beloved and despised and ranging from multiple genres. Don't be surprised if some Scandinavian death metal group makes an appearance or two. Now, let's get the opener ready, ladies and gents!
'Break Your Heart' - Taio Cruz
Simple, but catchy R&B/pop blended song with a repetitive chorus that's simply viral. Basically, it's similar to 'Tie Me Down' in attitude with a Euro synth beat that makes me reminisce of Akon's 'Freedom' album. So catchy, that it has the capability to define a year in music, like Lady Gaga's 'Just Dance' and 'Poker Face' will always remind me of my most prominent memories of 2009. Not bad for a guy who had spent his career writing hits for Britney and Justin. This tune definitely wont break break, break, break, break your heart (Had to do it!).
'Gin & Juice' - The Gourds
I admit it. I probably wouldn't be caught deceased at a bluegrass festival. I haven't even heard any other songs from this group, but this classic cover has enough joy and amusement to live off of forever. Nothing like an old Snoop Dogg classic with a Southern twang and a banjo, but the brilliant thing is that the Texan group actually pulled it off. Never thought that gangsta rap could go Nashville and have me not only set the track on repeat, but having me question my allegiance to the original. I would also consider this to be the lead song if they were to do a funkier remake of 'Deliverance'. Now have the sudden urge to grab a banjo and make a Tupac song work. On second thought, it's not worth the risk.
R.I.P. To A Lost Boy
Corey Haim (December 23, 1971 – March 10, 2010)(img.slate.com)
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