Here's Fred Lynn, in a uniform a lot of people don't remember him wearing.

Here’s Fred Lynn, in a uniform a lot of people don’t remember him wearing.

At this very moment, I’m not watching baseball. The Red Sox are hosting the Angels at Fenway Park and apparently Mike Napoli has already hit a home run, but I don’t think watching a game is in the cards for tonight.

Instead, I’m sitting here, reading about other experiences loosely tied to the game and listening to Elvis in my newly rearranged living room, realizing that I’m not quite writing about the game, or anything else, with the kind of frequency I’d like. I still write enough, in whatever that sense may be, and I’m still following along, watching as Hanley Ramirez tries to hit through a bad shoulder and the Sox continue to let great performances by a suddenly rejuvenated starting rotation fall by the wayside. They’re struggling. It’s reality and it’s not ideal but I’m comfortable with that.

But it’s in this moment that I wanted to write about baseball, even if the urge to watch a game they may or may not be winning is, at the moment, nonexistent. Just something to reflect on this thing that’s here for half of the year, just about always when it’s needed, always present regardless of whether or not I’m paying attention. (more…)

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This is my oldest card by at least five years.

When I’m furiously typing away to the sound of the radio, hearing that a legendary major leaguer is about to speak is enough to distract me for a few minutes.

And a few days ago, that legend was Fred Lynn, he of the Red Sox’ center field in the 1970s, one half of the Gold Dust Twins (with Jim Rice) and all around nice guy, was on 98.5 FM to talk baseball, past and present.

I tuned in, and Lynn had some great thoughts on the current Sox, on what it meant to play at Fenway, and a bit of inside dirt on how he was traded to the California Angels against his will in 1981.

He also had a funny story on how it feels to be completely over matched by a pitcher:

“A guy that used to give me a lot of trouble was Franky Tanana, when he first came up with the Angels, because he and (Nolan) Ryan both were striking out 300 guys a year. And Franky, being a lefty, had four pitches, and he knew how to pitch. … (more…)