I wanted to write about how the Red Sox keep winning but I couldn't

As you know from my last post, I’m still recovering from covid. It leaves me more tired, exhausted really, then anything else. I’m fortunate in many ways, and one of those is the amazing medical miracle that is vaccines and specifically the covid vaccine. I don’t know how I’d feel without it, but considering how I feel with it, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be good, and it might be really bad. The older I get the more I realize how precious my time with my boys is, and the thought of not being able to be there for them is a difficult one to handle.

I really wanted to write about the Red Sox 16-3 destruction of the White Sox yesterday. I wanted to write about Trevor Story’s season-in-two-weeks, another good start by Nick Pivetta, JD Martinez’s turning back of the clock, and the MVP chase of our beloved teenager Rafael Devers. I wanted to write about all of that, but how can I after yet another shooting at a school, this one in Texas yesterday which left so many children dead and scarred the lives of so many others?

I wanted to tell you about J.D. Martinez’s incredible exit velocities, how just about every ball off his bat in May has been hit hard, but doing so feels like willfully ignoring this pain that hovers at my forehead, pushes down on my shoulders, and forces me to sit down against my will. I can’t imagine what it must be like to send my son to school, to pack his lunch, give him a kiss, and send him off to learn, and then to find out that it was the last time I’ll ever see him alive. I can’t imagine having to wait all night long because the bodies of the dead are too mangled to be identified by authorities. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be without my sons and I can’t imagine asking others to make that sacrifice for anything. But that’s what we’re doing. We are all entering a death lottery. Every day. God help us if our number comes up.

I’m sorry to bring this to you. I know this is a Red Sox newsletter. I’m genuinely excited about how the team has played over the past few weeks. It’s far more indicative of what we thought they could be coming into the season. Sometimes, for whatever reason, you just start slow. Sometimes, apparently, for whatever reason, everyone just starts slow.

I don’t want this newsletter to be a bummer. But it’s also my newsletter, and this is something that won’t get out of my mind, and I’ve tried. I’m ashamed to say I’ve really tried. But it won’t go. I don’t know how we can live with this. I’m sure we’ll find a way because those in charge aren’t going to change it, and the way the government is set up right now and for the foreseeable future ensures that no change is coming. But while we must and will live with it, I don’t see how. The pain we’re forcing on so many is so great, so overwhelming as to be paralyzing. If I allow myself to think about it at all, it overcomes me and I just sob.

So I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want to read this. I didn’t want to write this, believe me. I really did want to write about the Red Sox. They’re playing so well. I guess for now that’s going to have to be enough.