Unforgettable day in Boston
Ninety-nine percent of the time, this column lead is going to be about the players and the stats, not about me. But here's a rare case where an exception to the rule applies.
By now you surely know all about the tragic events that took place in Boston on Monday afternoon. Hateful acts and destructive consequences are never easy for anyone to view or understand, but there's an extra layer of pain that applies when the events occur in your home area.
I don't live in New England currently – it's actually been more than a decade since I moved away. But I grew up in Massachusetts and attended college in Rhode Island; all of my roots are in the area. Boston is my city as much as any city has ever been, and anytime I go back to visit New England, it feels like I'm going home.
Every year on Patriots' Day, I have friends at the marathon and in the marathon. My closest friend growing up was a distance runner (he's since passed the running baton to his wife), and I've spent Marathon Monday in The Hub on several occasions. To see a fun and joyous day turned into a day of terror makes my stomach sick.
I'm writing Closing Time because it's what I do, and I'm thankful and grateful to have this daily forum. But for one edition at least, you'll have to excuse me if my heart wasn't completely in it, if rooting for a save here or a stolen base there didn't carry the same worth it might on a normal day. I realize sports serve as a welcome distraction and diversion in most of our lives, and I'm fine with that; I know why you're coming here and what my job is. Just know my mind was elsewhere as I watched baseball Monday evening; it would be false to write this column without that disclosure.
You're in my thoughts, Boston. I'm proud of how you've responded. Keep taking care of one another.
Thanks for listening. Now let's get back to work, back to the sandlots.Read More »from Closing Time: A hat tip to Boston