As we slog through this
'Winter Of Our Red Sox Discontent' (with apologies to
John Steinbeck), it's instructive to remember that the NOG (New Ownership Group) are
definitively not Boston. Maybe Red Sox President
Sam Kennedy can skate by (he
is a native of Brookline and a legitimately good person), but the rest of the bunch are interloping carpetbaggers—and always have been. From Day One—when former MLB Commissioner
Bud Selig greased the skids of their purchase—they've been over-bearing, politically-correct and just flat-out unlikeable. True, they have given us three World Series Championships—
and they will forever deserve high praise for that. But, now, they seem to be resting on their laurels and biding their time until they can sell to the highest bidder and—quite likely—make the biggest profit in sports history. No moves at the deadline last year. Dangerously close to getting no bat for 2018. And, all the while sucking dry every last dime associated with
"America's Most Beloved Ballpark". Endless concerts, and other non-baseball events (like football and soccer games) have defiled the old place. And, no matter what they tell you—
it is old,
106-years-old to be exact. When they flee town—and they
will flee—Red Sox fans will still be saddled with a creaking, cramped, obstruction-filled, infrastructure-impaired ballpark. Thanks,
John Henry! And, by the way, we bet you call those chocolate things on top of ice cream
"sprinkles".
