A Message from Tru (and his heart)

Photo of Joe West's grab-action with Terry Francona courtesy of Kelly O'Connor and used with permission.

At sixty years old, I have lived more than half of my life expectancy. The actuarial tables employed by the insurance industry dictate that I should live for another 20 or so years, which I suppose is okay.

According to popular trends, the latest geriatric medical advances, Men’s Health magazine and a dash of myth tossed in, the heady brew I’m indulging in is supposed to make these remaining years pass in relative good health.    I even bought a new bicycle to use not just in the summer months, but also over the long winter, where I can use a trainer.  I’m trying to maintain a heart healthy status.  I’m trying to piss off the insurance industry too.

Also part of my regimen is to be able to climb stairs.  I like to take this exercise into Fenway Park, where I walk along concourses, ascend, descend, ascend, descend and do it all over again, game after game that I get to attend.  You would think that because of this rigorous exercise routine that my heart would be happy about it.  Physically, my heart seems tip top, or so my doctor says.  Sure, he’d prefer to see me lose some weight, stop smoking cigars, lay off staying up to watch west coast games, and pay better attention to what I eat.

But my heart is asking me about seeing a mental health professional.

Heart: I’m kind of in a funk
Tru: What?
Heart:  Yeah, I’m really blue
Tru: What’s your problem?  I’m doing everything to keep you in great shape!
Heart: Look, there’s more to me than being in good physical form.  You know this, right?
Tru:  Well, I honestly didn’t know.
Heart: Don’t you talk to your mind?  I mean, why aren’t you talking to your mind?
Tru:  Well, I do sometimes, but it didn’t seem to come up.  But that’s beside the point.  What is it that I can do for you?
Heart:  Don’t abandon me.
Tru:  What?  Why would I abandon you?
Heart: Don’t patronize me.  You know damned well what I’m talking about.
Tru: Oh.  Them.  You’re talking about the Sox.  Am I right?
Heart:  You’re a savant sometimes, you know that?

Year in and year out the Red Sox show up and so does everyone else.  I’m included in everyone else and part and parcel of this proposition is never giving in to the nit picking feelings that somehow wants to take me down a notch from believing in my team.  But my heart is beginning to weaken.  I’m surrounded by all these things, all this evidence that says there is a huge difference between what we should see and what we are seeing.

I’m quite able to break down a game into areas where the key things that occurred led to the outcome.  To be honest, I do that more when the Sox lose than when they win.  However, I’ve been doing a lot of that lately.  Now I know the media has gone off on the Sox before the season started, picking them to win it all.  Didn’t this happen to the 2008 Tigers?  Even some of our own players believed the season would be spectacular.  Yet, here it is that I’m beginning to look at the team in ways that I cannot explain.

I’m not giving up on the team.  I’ve never done that, and am not about to begin.

But, I’ve scheduled time for my mind to meet with my heart and see if they can find some way to resolve whatever issues there are.

I’ll be damned if the insurance company believes they can cheat me.

Oh, one last thing.  Angel Hernandez and Joe West can kiss my ass.

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