When Johnny Comes Marching Home
When Johnny comes marching home againNot that there’s anything wrong with that.
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We’ll give him a hearty welcome then
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The men will cheer and the boys will shout
The ladies they will all turn out
And we’ll all feel gay
If I were as clever or funny as Bill Simmons, I would write a column about how Johnny Damon is that type of girlfriend who leaves you for a richer guy living in a glamorous city. Then Mr. Moneybags dumps her and she has to move to Detroit. You offer to move her to Boston even though she is living in Detroit, but she feels so wronged by you she’d rather stay in Detroit.
People who live in Detroit don’t want to live in Detroit. If LeBron James’s hometown were Detroit, they’d be happy if he took his talent to South Beach. Brett Favre went through all those retirement shenanigans because he wanted to be farther away from Detroit (550 miles between the Motor City and Minnesota, 288 miles between Detroit and Green Bay).
As disappointed as I was seeing Damon sign with the Yankees, as disgusted I felt watching him frolic around the field when they won the World Series last year, I would not have minded him back on the team. The noodle-arm throws to the infield would annoy me as they always have, especially after witnessing Ryan Kalish’s and Darnell McDonald’s respectable guns, but by all accounts he’s great in the clubhouse. David Ortiz and Jason Varitek tried to convince him to return and they know far more about what would be good for the team than I do.
If Damon changes his mind before the 1:30 PM deadline tomorrow, I’ll just get used to rooting for him again. The team needs all the help it can get.
I somehow got used to cheering for John Lackey and he didn’t even have the any of the goodwill of 2004 that Damon does. Lackey didn’t even fulfill his role as an Angel and fold against the Red Sox in the ALDS.
Lackey had one of his best starts of the season: 8 innings pitched, 6 hits, 3 runs (2 earned), 2 walks, and 10 strikeouts. To be sure, the Mariners lineup isn’t an offensive juggernaut. But they aren’t a National League team, either.
I would think Jerry Remy and Don Orsillo, both products of Massachusetts, could sound out a Samoan name. They had years of practice to pronounce Mosi Tatupu. Granted, “Tuiasosopo” has a few more syllables, but it’s still shorter than “Saltalamacchia.” Orsillo never pronounced it the same way twice and Remy avoided the name as much as he could. Repeat after me: TOO-ee-ah-so-SO-po. As they said on Seinfield, “No soup for you!”
| Game 126: August 23, 2010 | ||
| Mariners 49-76 | 3 | L: Doug Fister (4-9) |
| No extra base hits. | ||
 Red Sox72-54 | 6 | W: John Lackey (12-7) S: Jonathan Papelbon (31) |
| No extra base hits. | ||
