Potential who’s who proves a no-hitter

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As Butch said repeatedly to Sundance, “Who are these guys?” The thought occurred to me often last Saturday as I basked in the Fort Myers sun and watched the Pittsburgh Pirates play the alleged Red Sox. I drove 2,500 miles across 10…
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As Butch said repeatedly to Sundance, “Who are these guys?”

The thought occurred to me often last Saturday as I basked in the Fort Myers sun and watched the Pittsburgh Pirates play the alleged Red Sox.

I drove 2,500 miles across 10 states in a 17-mile-per-gallon Tundra (at least $300 in gas) to see my idiot-heroes Manny, Ortiz, Muellar and Millar, Veritek and Johnny (Jesus) Damon.

What I got was Luke Allen (honest to God) in left field, because Manny Ramirez was still pouting after the Red Sox failed to trade him, as requested. Apparently, $20 million, or a million dollar paycheck every two weeks, is not enough.

David Ortiz, my current favorite player, was gone to play for the Dominican Republic team in the World Baseball Classic. Serving as designated hitter for the day was the immortal Tyler Minges (honest to God).

Old friend third-baseman Bill Mueller was traded to the Dodgers and happy-go-lucky first-baseman Kevin Millar was shipped to the Orioles.

Gone.

Catcher Jason Varitek was sitting the Saturday game out, so the catching duties were performed by someone called Josh Bard.

Who are these guys?

The immortal Willie Harris was in center field, with traitor Johnny Damon gone to the Yankees because $40 million was not enough for him. He shall be called Benedict Arnold from this day forth and be reminded daily that he throws like a girl.

I used to know the starting Red Sox lineup by heart, including, naturally, their team numbers. I go back to Clyde Vollmer, for heaven sake. The only reason I knew the team that took the field on Saturday was the “Red Sox” on their chests.

Zack Borowiak (I am not kidding) took a turn at second.

It got funnier and funnier as the afternoon wore on and the names got even more obscure. Section 113 started making up imaginary fathers for the obscure players.

Rodney Nye (possibly Louis’ son) played a little third base.

Ron Calloway, (possibly Cab’s son) appeared briefly as a pinch hitter. Josh Pressley, (possibly Elvis’ son), played a few innings at first and got a big RBI hit.

Tyler Minges (possibly Charlie’s son) played a little designated hitter.

Possibly, years from now, I can bore people at Camden’s Waterfront Restaurant when these fledgling players make it to “the Bigs” and appear in a televised Sox game. “Why, I saw him play in Fort Myers. You could tell he was headed for the majors,” I will say as people head for the door. I do that now with Trot Nixon, Nomar Garciaparra and some others.

I did recognize the starting pitcher, Bronson Arroyo, but not for long. He gave up three runs and never finished the second inning.

With this stellar lineup, the Sox, not surprisingly, dropped the game to Pittsburgh 7-6.

If it wasn’t 19 degrees in Camden and 75 degrees in Fort Myers, the entire day could have been ruined.

Did I mention that the Quality Motel pool is heated?

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.


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