Wry & Ginger: Things that go ‘batter up’ in the night - News - MailTribune.com - Medford, OR

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2015-10-17

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0 of 3 Premium Clicks used this month SUBSCRIBE Print + Online Subscriber Activation  |  Register x Forgot Password | Need an Account? e-edition | subscribe | newsletter | deals Classifieds Jobs Autos Real Estate FEATURED   » NEWS NOW   Josephine County brothers die in single-car crash       ...       Since You Asked: Pedestrians can be cited for carelessness       ...       Wolf once believed to be dead shows up near Crater Lake       ...       Josephine County brothers die in single-car crash       ...       Since You Asked: Pedestrians can be cited for carelessness       ...       Wolf once believed to be dead shows up near Crater Lake       ...           Wry & Ginger: Things that go 'batter up' in the night Comment By Sid McKeen More Content Now MailTribune.com By Sid McKeen More Content Now Posted Mar. 16, 2015 at 9:41 AM By Sid McKeen More Content Now Posted Mar. 16, 2015 at 9:41 AM »  Social News You’re not going to believe what was going down in our bathroom the other night. I woke from a sound sleep about quarter to 3 a.m. to an earsplitting cacophony of smashing noises. The sounds were deafening. I sprang from my bed, like the guy in the Christmas poem, to see what was the matter. The walls shook from repeated rat-a-tat blows that sounded like we were under attack from enemy aircraft. There were holes in the roof big enough to heave Manhattan phone books through. With only a night light to show the way, I cleared enough space on the floor to advance into the shower area. There — right in the middle of everything — stood a giant of a man swinging a baseball bat wildly, knocking balls thrown from who-knows-where and sending tiles and toilet-fixture fragments crashing off the ceiling, walls and floor. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” I screamed. That’s when I discovered the identity of the intruder. It was none other than David Ortiz, the Boston Red Sox designated hitter, in full uniform. There was no mistaking that bull-moose physique, the wide, winning smile, the Dominican accent or the immense No. 34 on his back. It was Big Papi in the flesh. I was too bummed out to ask for his autograph, but it passed through my head. “I’m really sorry, man,” he said, tossing his Louisville Slugger into the trash heap that used to be my bathroom. “Last thing I remember is I was falling off to sleep after a day in the batting cage back in Fort Myers. I don’t have no memory of how I got here, but I tell you right now, I’ll pay for the damage, man. I’ll even buy you a new house if you want, with as many bathrooms as you think you need.” “They got this new rule this year, man, the top dogs in the commissioner’s office,” he told me. “They say we gotta keep one foot in the batter’s box every time at bat to help speed up the games. That kinda got me upset, and I must have walked here in my sleep and somehow took it out on you. I’m really sorry, man, and I want to make it up to you.” None of it ever happened, of course. It was all just a bad dream, probably brought on by my fickle digestive tract combined with my usual excitement at sizing up the latest version of the Sox. I’ve been a fan since 1940, for better or worse, mostly you-know-what, and people like us have learned how to keep hope alive. I leave it to you to figure out the significance of the dream. Did I place Papi in my shower because I’m a lifelong control freak, and I’m looking for him to bat “cleanup”? Is the shower some kind of metaphor for the recent history of Red Sox baseball, going from cold to hot to cold in the last three years of play? Was I making my bathroom available so my favorite team would find a way to flush last year down the drain and find their way back to the throne room they call the World Series? Enough of the Freudian conjecture. Who cares? Our place is intact. Spring, more welcome this year than I can ever recall, is just around the bend, and nothing says spring like baseball. As a seasonal rite of passage, it sure beats pushing the clock ahead another hour. So, batter up. Let the games begin. Go spring. Go baseball. Go Sox, Go David. And you’re welcome to drop by for BP anytime, big guy. I’ll even leave the light on for ya. Sid McKeen is a columnist for The Worcester (Mass.) Telegram & Gazette. He can be reached at [email protected]. By Sid McKeen More Content Now MailTribune.com By Sid McKeen More Content Now Posted Mar. 16, 2015 at 9:41 AM » Comment or view comments   Reader Reaction »  STAY INFORMED   Email NewsLetter   Sign Up Today   Sign up for our newsletter and have the top headlines from your community delivered right to your inbox. Southern Oregon Directory Featured Businesses Loading... 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