Haters in the House IV : Stray-Rod

There’s no Yankee whom we in the Nation love to hate more than A-Rod. And why not? A-Rod rarely disappoints. Who was it started things with Varitek in the famous brawl game of July 2004, when the Sox stormed back and finally won on Bill Mueller’s walk-off home run? The game that everyone looked back on as the season’s turning point. The game that ignited the Sox furious run through August and September, and served as foreshadowing of the drama in Games Four and Five. And who was it slapped the ball from Bronson’s mitt in Game Six of the ALCS, killing the Yankees' last chance to turn that series around? Looking mystified and embarrassed at the same time, as the umps called him out and waved off Jeter’s run.

Inexplicably, I almost felt sorry for A-Rod last year, as he moped his way through the 2006 season, regularly booed by New York’s blue collar fans, who perhaps resented his earning $25million, yet never delivering in the clutch. Not only that, but he was ridiculed in the internet masterpiece, Chokeback Yankees, which won best picture at the Nation’s own academy awards – a dramatic depiction of the falling out between A-Rod and Jeter once Damon arrived in the Bronx. You can apparently still find it on You-tube.

But any chance that anyone would feel sorry for this guy has evaporated in the events of the last couple weeks. First there was the thing where he elbowed Pedroia in the balls, after being forced at second. Sure, everyone is allowed to break up the double play, and a hard slide is part of the game. But why is it that A-Rod always plays the bitch when one of these things happens? What other player elbows someone in the balls? Then last night in Toronto, he apparently yells at the Jays’ third baseman as he’s settling under a pop-up, causing the ball to fall in, and allowing the Yankees to score three more runs that inning. Now everyone in Toronto hates on A-Rod; it’s not just something with the Nation.

And then, to cap off the evening’s festivities, A-Rod gets himself photographed with some busty blond, leaving a strip club, and then trying to sneak her into his hotel. I like that. The guy makes $25 million a year, and he takes his gal to a strip club. Is that class or what? Of course, the tabloids are all in a lather because the blond is not A-Rod’s wife. She’s apparently home with their kid. And then, to make matters more interesting, sources have claimed to have seen A-Rod and the blond cavorting in numerous other cities. The papers are calling him stray-Rod. I just think he’s just a bitch. I know he’s a talented guy, but when has he ever delivered when it really meant something? And before all you Yankee lovers come to his defense, answer me this: when did Jeter ever slap the ball out of someone’s glove? Or shout at a fielder who was trying to make a play? Other fans may resent Jeter, because he’s beaten their team so often, but still, everyone respects Jeter. Love him or hate him, he still earns respect. A-Rod, by contrast, just earns everyone’s contempt. Deservedly. E-Rod; A-Fraud; Stray-Rod; whatever. The guy has as many nicknames as home runs. In the end, he'll be remembered more for these names, and the fiascos that gave him these names, than for any numbers he manages to put up over his career.

Fiction, Characters, Reality, Text

In response to the previous posting, Danny asks, first of all, if the Bible is a work of historical fiction, and if so, was Abraham the product of someone’s imagination? Both of these questions suggest that there is a dichotomy between persons and characters, between history and fiction. I’m not so sure. I think that our perception of reality is so shaped by the text, by the author, that once we have the written text, it’s very hard to separate that text from the reality of what happened. And in the case of events when we only have the text, that written version subsumes reality; it becomes the reality of those events. To see that idea more clearly, let’s look at a few examples that are not as highly charged as Genesis.

Benjamin Franklin is one example of this difficulty. He left us his autobiography, but the character Franklin in the autobiography is apparently quite different from the actual Franklin who participated in the drafting of our constitution. Franklin himself has altered the reality of his character, merely by writing about himself. In the case of Franklin, however, because we have an historical record, many original documents, his biographers can try to reconstruct the person, and the events of his time, although even these efforts are affected by their authors’ biases and perspectives. My favorite example of this dilemma, because these ideas are informed by Bloom, is Hamlet. There probably was a prince of Denmark named Hamlet. He lived and died, and may have done something good for his subjects. But for all practical purposes today, Shakespeare’s Hamlet is more real than this person. We know more about the character Hamlet, and what he thought, and this character has had a far greater impact on human thought, and human history, than the original guy ever did. While both the character and the Prince are real, the former is only one who makes any difference to us today. A more remote example is someone who fought at Troy, say Odysseus. Today it hardly matters whether there even was an Odysseus; all that matters to us is the Odyssey. The Odyssey is more real than anything that ever happened between the Greeks and the Trojans. And Odysseus is far more real than any Greek person of that time.

So this leaves me with two theses: first, the process of writing about events changes those events. It’s sort of a variation on the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, which states than an observation alters an event, and so we can’t ever know exactly about that event, because our attempt to understand it (our observation) had irrevocably changed the event. The second idea is that, when we are left with only a text, and no writing other than that text, the text has become the reality. Thus, it’s not important whether the text is fiction or history; in fact, there is really no such distinction under those circumstances. There is only the text. Similarly, there is no longer any distinction between the person and the character. There is only Odysseus. So the entire reality about those events and that person is found in the surviving text.

The greatest difficulty comes when we look at the basic assumption – is Genesis a text written by a person? Or is Genesis part of the revealed word of God, given to Moses on Sinai? If the latter, then my attempts to understand that text, and also my musings about Abraham, are futile. But if Genesis was written by people, and if the events in Genesis had been passed down orally from the time of the Patriarchs, then it’s possible to have a different understanding of Abraham. After all, in most other disciplines, human understanding is not regarded as fixed and immutable. Newton thought he had figured out how the universe worked, but Einstein (and others) discovered that Newton’s understanding was incomplete. Why can’t we revisit the events of Genesis and try to understand more clearly, and with greater appreciation, what actually happened? I think my ideas, as uninformed as they are, give us reason to be more appreciative, not less, of the contributions of Judaism. I think it’s possible that Genesis, the first book of the Torah, is not the literal word of God, yet at the same time a more important and influential text for that very reason.

Abraham

I’ve been threatening this post for a couple weeks now – my thesis that the patriarch Abraham was the first genius in recorded history. There were earlier geniuses, about whom we know very little. For example, there was the guy who decided that rather than wander all over the grasslands to gather food, he would plant seeds in his back yard and raise crops. Certainly, our clan would recognize the first guy to have placed a cut of meat over an open fire as a genius. But I believe that a critical reading of Genesis reveals that Abraham was indeed a genius, someone who changed the world in which he lived. My interpretation of these events is informed by the perspective I’ve gained from reading Harold Bloom. In other words, Genesis is a text, written by someone, and Abraham and Isaac are characters in that text. The tricky part is whether God too is a character in the text, but I think that insofar as the Akeidah story is concerned, God is exactly that – a character in this text. So then, if you believe the Torah to be the word of God, revealed to Moses on Sinai, and not a text written in Solomon’s temple, don’t read any more.

The conventional interpretation of the Akeidah is that Abraham proved his faith in God by agreeing to sacrifice his son, Isaac. After Abraham took Isaac out into the wilderness, with the wood, with the knife, and bound Isaac on the altar, an angel called out to him, restraining Abraham and giving him a ram to sacrifice instead of Isaac. Thus, say the sages, Abraham proved himself a God-fearing man. That’s the conventional interpretation of the story. But I submit, that’s not what happened.

What actually happened is that Abraham lived in a time when human sacrifice was an accepted practice. Neither Abraham nor anyone else had to agree to sacrifice his child to prove his faith in any deity. This was, if not an everyday event, at least a regular practice of what then passed for religion. The Akeidah is really about Abraham’s realization that human sacrifice was wrong, and that henceforth no one should practice this abomination. When he sacrificed the ram instead of his son, his only son, the son he loved, Abraham changed human history. Of course, when he came back from Mount Moriah, he couldn’t tell his neighbors that he, Abraham, had decided that no one should practice human sacrifice any more. For who was he to tell them what to do? So the story became that God had instructed him to substitute animal sacrifice for human sacrifice. And if one had sufficient faith in God, one could accept this wisdom as the word of God, a divine proscription that demanded obedience.

And how do we know that it was Abraham, and not God, who had come to this realization? Is it not presumptuous to assume that a mere mortal, a human being, was the one to come to this realization? Think about the debate between God and Abraham about the punishment for Sodom. Let’s accept that the Sodomites were wicked, and that they deserved some form of punishment. God proposes to wipe them all out, to kill every one of them. In a dialogue that is nothing short of remarkable, Abraham gradually persuades God that he should not administer collective punishment on the innocent citizens of this city. What if there are fifty righteous people in Sodom, what then? God agrees he will spare Sodom. And what if there are only forty righteous people in Sodom? God agrees to restrain himself if there are only forty. And the same for thirty, twenty and ten. The sages teach us that Abraham, by pleading for the Sodomites, is proving his worth as the father of a multitude of nations, and not just the Jews. The encounter with the Sodomites supposedly teaches Abraham that judgment must be tempered with mercy. But in the literal text, it’s Abraham, and not God, who wants to change the nature of justice. It’s Abraham who argues against collective guilt; it’s Abraham who understands that the innocent should be spared.

So when Abraham later is confronted with the expectation of sacrificing his son, it makes sense that it’s Abraham who comes to realize the immorality of this practice and the need for a change.

Earlier in Genesis, Abraham is called an Ivri, which is the root word for Hebrew. That termed is derived from another ancient word meaning ‘the other side’. And the understanding is that Abraham stood on one side of a spiritual divide, apart from the rest of the world. The conventional interpretation is that Abraham rejected the prevailing practices of the day, recognized the sovereignty of the one true God, and accepted God’s charge to lead the Jewish nation. More likely, Abraham came to understand that the morality of his day was unacceptable, and that practices like human sacrifice needed to stop. The sages later credited this change to God, but the text tells us that it was Abraham, and not God, who actually changed the course of history.

Still More about Haters in the House

My friend Danny has posted a lengthy rejoinder to my recent musings about Yankee Haters. I am pleased to write more about this particular topic for at least two reasons: first of all, this dialogue has increased the readership of our blog by at least 25 per cent; and second, what topic would I like to think about or to write about, more than Yankee Hating? What could possibly be more fun? So here we go.

Danny suggests that there is a difference between a true baseball fan and a Yankee hater, whom he describes as a “non-division wanna be who defines himself not by the team he loves with a passion, but by the envy that has fermented to hatred for the Yankees.” Did I get that right?

So the first question is whether being a true baseball fan and a Yankee hater are mutually exclusive. Now I’m not suggesting that every fan is both a fan and a hater, but certainly, being a fan does not preclude one from being a hater. And vice versa. In fact, baseball is an example of when hating can actually enhance one’s enjoyment of life, or in this case baseball. That’s not generally true in all aspects of life, but for sports, why not? Consider the 2005 ALDS playoffs between the Yankees and the Angels. That was a series one ordinarily would not really care about. But when A-Rod hit into a double play in the ninth inning of game five, ending the Yankees post-season prematurely, for the fifth straight year I should add, who outside of the Bronx didn’t enjoy that moment? So you see, being a hater opened one up to the possibility of enjoying an otherwise unremarkable and forgettable moment.

The next question then is, why be a Hater? There are several possible explanations, starting with the emotional one. It feels good. There are many activities in life that we do for that simple reason – they don’t hurt anyone, and they feel good. So people hate the Yankees for the simple emotional pleasure of it all. Another good reason to hate them is that it makes sense; in this country especially, we like to root for the underdog. We pull for the little guy. Back in the old days, that was one of the attractions of the Dodgers to their many fans. They were perennially the underdog to the Yankees, and it was logical to want to root for them. Then of course, there is the ethical reason – after all, the Yankees are the evil empire. And who roots for the Emperor and his Storm Troopers in Star Wars? Lastly, there is the tautological reason for Yankee Hating. We hate them because they are the Yankees.

The one reason I can’t agree with is the purported psychological explanation. And for my rejection of that theory, check out these very postings. The proof is right here on the page. Is it the RedSox fan or the Yankees fan who makes repeated metaphorical references to penis, and sperm, and Dr. Freud? So it’s the Nation who has the hang-up here? I don’t think so!

Lastly, let’s all reserve judgment on how smart the Yankee front office is these days. These are the guys who spent millions on Pavano, and Kevin Brown, and who are now speculating about whether Giambi’s contract should be voided because he came clean about past steroid use. (Doing that to Giambi would be dumb for more reasons than I could ever have time to post about.) Maybe Clemens will have a great season, and maybe his arm will tire come September or October. But the current crop of front office geniuses are not the guys who assembled the last great Yankee dynasty. And you don’t have to take my word for it; even Mike Lupica will attest to that.

In any event, I reluctantly admit that it’s time to move on. Not because it hasn’t been fun; and not because I’m running out of things to say about Yankee Hating. Rather it’s time to begin propounding my theories about the genius of the patriarch Abraham. Now we’ll have something real to argue about.

Haters in the House - The Sequel

My friend Danny, after reading this blog, explained to me his theory that Yankee haters, especially Sox fans who are Yankee haters (a redundancy for sure), are really envious of the Yankees, and secretly want to be Yankee fans. The most championships; the greatest franchise in sports history, who wouldn’t want to be a Yankee fan? I think the correct word here is delusional, but before being dismissive of this theory, I wanted to give it a closer look.

Danny conceded that there were some RedSox fans who had it in their blood. Their fathers and grandfathers, uncles, cousins, nephews and even nieces had all been Sox fans. Johnny Pesky, Ted Williams, Carl Yastrzemski; old school RedSox fans. Presumably, these folks don’t want to be Yankee fans, consciously or not. Why would they? But as for the Johnny-come-lately Yankee haters, Danny posits that they should simply come out of the closet, and declare their pinstripe loyalty. He thinks these folks have jumped on the Yankee hating bandwagon. (I did point out that there is a long and storied history of Yankee hating, much of it predating the Sox rivalry. In the old days, when the Dodgers and Giants played in New York, there were as many Yankee haters as fans in the five boroughs, perhaps more.)

Well, the first problem with Danny's theory is that there are no barriers to admission for Yankee fans. It’s like buying a ticket to a ballgame. You just get in line, fork over your money, and they let you in the stadium. There is no loyalty oath; you don’t have to take a test; you don’t even have to know that monument park was once in the field of play, way out there in left center field, about 450 feet from home plate, where many a right-handed home run dropped into an outfielder’s glove. All you need is to lack a moral compass. And unlike the stadium, which can fill up, can sell out, the fan club is never sold out. There’s always room for someone new.

A related problem with this theory is that it runs contrary to the current free-market model for baseball, which of course was pioneered by the Yankees. Today, anyone can be a Yankee. Anyone whose agent can persuade Cashman or Steinbrenner to part with, say fifteen or twenty million dollars a year, can come to the Bronx, wear the Yankee uniform, and hope that Mariano Rivera and Derek Jeter can win a ring for them. And along the same lines, any fan who so desires, can buy an ersatz Yankee jersey, can watch the YES channel, and can even buy tickets to most of the regular season games. So what’s keeping these latent Yankee fans from declaring their purported loyalty?

In point of fact, if there’s a bandwagon effect, it’s just as likely that the bandwagon fans climbed aboard with the Yankees in the nineties, when they won all those championships. Some people always pull for the front-runner. Just like there were millions of Bulls fans in Michael’s era; just as Tiger has a devoted following who can’t name five other players on the tour; the Yankees are popular in part because they are so successful. I could be more open to this cockamamie theory if the Yankees had gone 86 years between championships, instead of perennially contending.

In the final analysis, it’s a free country. People are free to love or hate the Yankees or the Red Sox. And even in the heart of RedSox nation, no one is compelled to root for the Sox; no one is prevented from wearing an A-Rod T. It’s just that no one in his right mind would ever think of doing that.

April Becomes May

After a dominant April, the Sox stumbled as they entered May. Papelbon blew a save against Oakland, and both he and Donnelly gave up earned runs for the first time this season, in the same game. It seemed for a moment to be a bad sign. And everyone began to wonder – was this another great April, whose memory would fade as the season wore on? Was this another year in which the Sox would tease all the nation, and then leave everyone disappointed?

Since that first day of May, the Sox have gone 7-1, all the more remarkable, because the last six games were on the road. Two out of three in Minnesota, and a sweep in Toronto. Wakefield hasn’t given up an earned run in his last two starts, and his ERA is now below 1.8. The bullpen has steadied itself too, Papelbon having returned to form, and the supporting cast having pitched well on this road trip. But the big story remains Okajima. So he gave up his first inherited run of the year, but he has yet to surrender another earned run. Nothing since the season’s opening pitch. His ERA is approaching .5, and soon won’t be perceptible without, say, an electron microscope.

The other day I called yawkeywaystore.com, looking for some Okajima gear, and was amazed to learn that, as yet, there is none. I guess no one was expecting this, not even the marketing guys. They have gobs of Dice-K stuff, shirts and hats and probably mousepads too, and even some JD Drew shirts. But no Okajima. I asked the gal on the phone what was up with that? I know, I know, she said. Everyone is asking for it; it will be here soon.

On this road trip though, it wasn’t just the bullpen. The starters returned to form, and the bats have come alive. Ortiz, Manny and especially Lowell are all looking good right now. And guys are getting on base ahead of them. Even Pedroia homered the other night.

Meantime, the Sox are coming home, to host the Orioles, Tigers and Braves. Let’s hope that the run continues, and that everyone stays healthy. Go Sox.

Aberlour and Balvenie

I had promised G-Man a posting about Aberlour 12, a new offering from one of my favorite Highland distilleries, and one that doesn’t seem to attract as much notice as it deserves. John and I have always been big fans of the 15, which is matured in sherry casks, and is remarkably smooth yet still full of flavor. This was the malt we enjoyed with cigars at Turning Stone last summer, sitting outside on the afternoon of Jessica’s wedding. John thinks the Aberlour15 is the best expression of a sherry matured malt, and aside from the Macallan 18, which is in a class much its own, he may be right. And especially good value too. I’m also a fan of the Aberlour 10, their entry level product which can hold its own against much pricier Highland malts. A very good whisky for the money.

The twelve is apparently a new product, very very smooth, a great introductory malt for those nights when one is pouring for novices. It doesn’t have the sweetness of Macallan 12, but rather has a more subtle finish. It’s a milder flavor as well, but there is more than enough taste here. Sticking with what’s apparently an Aberlour tradition, the price is again very reasonable. G-Man reports that the NH store lists Aberlour Glenlivet 12 for only $32 a bottle. I’m not exactly sure what “Aberlour Glenlivet” is, but there is a reference on the label to the Aberlour Glenlivet Distillery Co., so I figure we're talking about the same whisky. In any event, my advice would be to head up toward Maine, and pick up a few bottles at that price, because it’s almost like stealing, to get this malt for only $32.

G-Man also talks about drinking Balvenie while sojourning in Georgia, and I’ve always liked Balvenie. The doublewood 12 is their version of sherry finished highland whisky, and it’s hard not to like. When we cruised with the boys a year ago, I tried to bring a bottle on board, only to have it confiscated. It was returned to us the night before we landed, and as it was a Saturday night, late in March, the very weekend of the final four, the boys and I gathered in front of a TV to watch some hoops, and drink the better part of that bottle. Balvenie has a big flavor, not quite as much taste as Macallan, the benchmark for big Highland malts, or HP, my favorite. (Technically, not a highland at all.) More robust though than most of the other Highlands. Recently, on a trip out west to see our friend Mickey, I spent another weekend enjoying the Balvenie 12, as his wife Carolyn had kindly stocked her liquor cabinet with a couple malts. What great hospitality! I’ve also tasted their 15, which is single cask bottling and 100 proof. Very nice, but a bit of a burn going down. Right now I have a bottle of Balvenie 21, finished in port casks, in our basement, having picked that up very reasonably at a tasting not too long ago. It needs the right occasion to move from the basement to the liquor cabinet; perhaps when G-Man comes upstate this summer. Balvenie is the most reasonably priced 21 year old malt that is commonly available. It’s not in the same class as Macallan 21, or HP25, but it’s still a pretty good bottle of whisky.

And G-Man is right, there lots of room for exploration of the many Highland and Speyside malts. Either one of these labels would be a fine place to start.

Willie Mays

Roger Clemens resigned today with the Yankees, for a reported $4.5 Million for each month he pitches. I figure that will work out to around $22 Million for the balance of the year, or about a million dollars for each start. The first two years he pitched for Houston, he had thirty-three starts each year. He’ll need some time in the minors to ramp up, so twenty-two starts is a pretty good guess.

Those same two years with the Astros, Clemens pitched about 210 innings each year. So if he gets two-thirds the number of starts, that will mean around 140 innings of work this year, for the $22 Million. That’s also probably a good guess, as he worked only 113 innings last year, when he signed late. And at that rate, Roger will earn more than $150,000 for each inning he pitches. Inning.

Who still remembers Willie Mays? For those who don’t remember him, in 1999, the Sporting News voted Mays the second best ball-player ever. I never saw Babe Ruth play, but Mays was the best and most complete player of the modern era, certainly the best I ever saw play the game. He could do everything; hit for average, steal bases, cover extraordinary ground in center field, and hit home runs. And he could do it with more style and flair than anyone else, then or now. The hat flying off as he ran down fly balls; the wide turn on his way to first, knowing he was going for extra bases; the basket catch, back when everyone else settled under the fly ball, and held up two hands to make sure.

In 1952 and ‘53, Mays was out of baseball; it was the Korean War era, and he missed two years in his prime. When he returned in 1954, he had more than 30 home runs by the all-star break, but Leo Durocher told him he needed to hit for average, not for the fences. He ended up winning the batting title, and of course the Giants won the series. Then in ‘57 he was moved west and played the bulk of his career in Candlestick Park. Windy Candlestick Park, with no short porches, and no McCovey cove. Despite all that, he ended up with 660 home runs. In today’s world, he would have hit 900 easy. And the point of all this reminiscence – in any inning he pitches this year, let’s say three up and three down against the Devil Rays, Clemens will earn more money than Mays ever did for an entire season, until the 70s, until he had played for twenty years. In fact, in any month he pitches this summer, Clemens will earn more than Mays did over his entire career.

I know the market is different today, TV, merchandise revenues, Fenway sold out every game. But one reason that’s so, one reason guys can make $4 Million dollars in a month, is that Mays, and Mantle, and Aaron and Ted Williams, inspired generations of fans, who still turn out, who now take their sons, and their grandsons to the park, and who have enough dough in their pockets to let guys like Clemens make that kind of money. I just hope Roger appreciates that.

Okajima

Yesterday, or perhaps the day before, Okajima was voted the AL rookie of the month. The Sox stealth bomber, Okajima arrived in Boston flying way under the radar screen. While the press, both Japanese and American, went crazy over the arrival of Dice-K, no one noticed that a 31 year old reliever had also shown up this season. And the few folks who did notice merely assumed that Okajima had been acquired to keep Dice-K company. A landsman so to speak, a friendly face, someone familiar with whom Dice-K could speak whenever he got homesick.

Now one month into the season, Okajima isn’t a secret anymore. After giving up a home run on his very first major league pitch, to Travis Buck, who by the way is the same guy who spoiled Papelbon’s perfect season with a ninth inning home run earlier this week, Okajima has not given up an earned run in his last thirteen appearances. He has 19 Ks, and only four walks. His real coming out party was a couple weeks ago, in the first Yankees game of this 2007 season. The Sox stormed back from a 6-2 deficit, scoring 5 runs in their half of the eighth, and took a 7-6 lead into the ninth. Papelbon has just tossed twenty pitch innings on two consecutive nights, and Tito could not use Pap that Friday night. Enter Okajima. John says, and John was sitting in the center field bleachers that night, that the fans groaned audibly as Okajima came out of the pen, and not Papelbon. But as he retired the Yankees in order on that Friday night, in the first of 18 games that will be played this season, the fans got louder and louder. After the third and final out, after Okajima had earned his first major league save, in a game that had gathered as much attention as any regular season game possibly could, the fans went crazy. And RedSox nation had a new, and unexpected hero, Hideki Okajima.

Since that night, Okajima has remained perfect; he still hasn’t allowed another run. Pap and Donnelly ha

Leonard Cohen Discovers the Obvious

I just read a review of Leonard Cohen’s recently published volume of poetry, his first book in almost twenty years. Leonard apparently spent much of the 90s in a Zen monastery, after which he discovered the virtues of women and whisky. The review describes him as a “resolute spiritual traveler who has come to embrace worldly pleasures as objects of devotion.” Well, OK Leonard, I can agree with you on that one, but why did it take a decade in some Buddhist monastery to figure out what you could have learned in a couple nights at Kitty Hoyne’s? Or in the alternative, Leonard, you could have spent your time reading this informative blog, where you would have been schooled in the transcendent power of good malt whisky.

Last weekend, Susan made a Kahlua and chocolate pecan pie, the perfect ending to an eclectic menu of grilled calamari and tuna. We grilled the tuna steaks two different ways, a bit of Bobby Flay tasting menu, trying out a couple new recipes. Four stars to a spicy, sweet and sour mango glaze, but a full five stars for a sherry vinaigrette with grilled shitake mushrooms. Anyway, when it came time for dessert, what better beverage to compliment the pie than Lagavulin? One wouldn’t think that the smoky taste of Lagavulin would go well with the sweet mocha pecan flavor of the pie. But Lagavulin and chocolate make a perfect match. Perfect. Not far behind was Talisker double matured, which we had the next night with leftovers. The sherry maturing gives the Talisker a bit of sweetness along with the peat, making it perhaps more accessible to the novice drinker.

And this wonderful meal was made more enjoyable by Sunday’s victory in the Bronx, giving the Sox two out of three in New York, five out of six for the season. Especially nice was the fact that we won with Julian Tavarez on the mound, filling in as our fifth starter while Jon Lester continues his rehab. The Yankees went with Wang, last year’s ace, and perhaps he isn’t quite healthy yet either. Still, it was sweet to come from behind once again – to know that we could get to the Yankees bullpen. It used to be that we had to get runs early against the Yankees, because the late innings, especially the ninth, were rarely productive. Not so this year. In fact, in most (if not all) of the five victories, the Sox trailed at one point, and came from behind. It was sweeter still to see Manny go deep for a couple late insurance runs. We’ve been playing well without much in the way of hitting. Manny especially had a quiet April, but if he comes to life, it can only help.

So here’s the complete menu: grilled calamari, tuna and asparagus, a nice Carneros pinot noir, chocolate Kahlua pecan pie, Lagavulin, and late inning RBIs from Manny. How could you possibly improve on that?