Red Sox Winter Weekend is here to remind us what's gone wrong
Red Sox Winter Weekend is here to remind us what's gone wrong originally appeared on NBC Sports Boston
Everything presently wrong with the Red Sox can be summed up in two words: Winter Weekend.
If last year's fanstravaganza-turned-peasant-uprising highlighted the growing dissatisfaction felt by the paying mob, then this year's edition already feels marked by gross indifference.
Last year, angry fans booed owner John Henry and chief baseball officer Chaim Bloom, forcing NESN into some creative editing, but at least they faced the heat. The only members of ownership currently scheduled to attend this weekend in Springfield are CEO Sam Kennedy and chairman Tom Werner. Conspicuous by his absence is John Henry, who could always change his mind, but otherwise will only feed the perception that he has lost interest in what was once the jewel of his bloated portfolio.
His actions this winter, or lack thereof, already make a damning case.
Werner famously promised the team would go "full throttle" in its pursuit of talent, but the Red Sox have instead subtracted as much as they've added, replacing Chris Sale, Justin Turner, Alex Verdugo, and Adam Duvall with Lucas Giolito, Tyler O'Neill, and Vaughn Grissom. According to a big-league source, the Red Sox hope to cut even more payroll before spring training begins next month, with All-Star closer Kenley Jansen and his $16 million salary on the block, too.
Werner has worn that quote all winter, but I actually believe he uttered it in reasonably good faith. Henry controls the purse strings, and it's abundantly clear the principal owner has recalibrated his principles to prioritize fiscal restraint over whatever-it-takes swings.
The result? A lackluster offseason directed by new chief baseball officer Craig Breslow that rivals any of Bloom's for dreariness. When inaction bridges front office regimes, it's fair to surmise the problems start higher on the masthead.
We'd let fans inquire, but that ain't happening. Last year, the owners took the stage for a Q&A and were shocked by the unrelenting hostility. So rather than face the unruly masses again, Kennedy and Werner are expected to answer questions from the media only, with the town hall replaced by a "talk-show style segment" led by former Red Sox closer Jonathan Papelbon.
File that one under "careful what you wish for," because the mercurial Cinco Ocho is looser than an unmoored 1820s cannon in rough seas, and he exudes Paul Pierce-style IDGAF energy. He's liable to hammer the team once he gets rolling.
Needless to say, it's a terrible look to charge some of the highest ticket prices in baseball, subtract from your roster after a third last-place finish in four years, and then decline to face the music, but indifference isn't limited to ownership or the event schedule.
There's also the fact that Rafael Devers isn't listed among the attendees. It's hard to tell the fans to care about the weekend when the only superstar on the roster won't be here. The same goes for Jansen, last year's lone All-Star, though given the rumors about the team dumping his salary, I can't say I blame him.
So that means the Red Sox hope to galvanize the paying customers with an event that won't include their owner or two best players. Instead, fans can meet Wilyer Abreu, Cooper Criswell, Reese McGuire, and Zack Weiss, and good for them for coming out during a January cold snap, but they're not exactly brimming with Pedro-Papi-Manny star power.
For five years, I hosted WEEI talk shows at Winter Weekend, and even though they invariably took place in a blizzard during another Patriots march to the Super Bowl, they were mobbed. Fans cheered the town halls rapturously, stars like David Ortiz, Xander Bogaerts, and Chris Sale were treated with reverence, and the squeals of delight every time a certain segment of the fanbase caught a glimpse of Andrew Benintendi evoked Beatlemania.
Those Red Sox teams earned their spot at the center of the baseball universe, and fans couldn't get enough, the $95 admission for a weekend pass worth every penny. Now it's hard to imagine anyone caring less, starting with the owner, who probably shouldn't be so worried about boos – they're hardly worth anyone's breath.
