Boston... Boston...
As much as I enjoyed seeing the Boston Red Sox win it all just now - as I also had enjoyed it back in 2004 - I got outraged at the sight of this headline:
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Victoria Snelgrove died in 2004 - not due to a car-bomber in the Middle-East or even a terrorist attack in the USofA, but because the festivities surrounding the Boston Red Sox victory and, more specifically, the measures taken to subdue the rowdy crowds back then were found to be quite INADEQUATE. Personally, even if I had been in town that day, I would not have gone on a rampage just because my team won - come on people! Did you bet money on it or something?!? Even so, you'd have to bet on an underdog who somehow DID prevail for the payoff to be worth making a violent ruckus about...! And, likewise, the riot squad was a bit overzealous with their new toy - a certain pepper-pellet gun...
To be fair, let's mention that the author of the above so-tastelessly titled article did mention the 2004 death - but left it a NAMELESS VICTIM. That, coupled with the mere choice of a title for the article here, is quite distasteful indeed I think and inadmissible.
We at the lugubrious and lukewarm blogs HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN at least.
Victoria Snelgrove died an unnecessary death.
She had a future ahead of her - snatched away by pure folly, momentary euphoria over what is, ultimately, no big deal at all... (Not diminishing the Boston Red Sox feat here; all the championships won by all the franchises in our modern society - since the inception of pro-sports leagues and associations - NONE of those mean SQUAT in the Grand Scheme of Things; is that clearer now?)
Was this demise the price to pay to lift the alleged Curse of the Bambino, as I remember asking back in 2004? (As it did occur between the Red Sox historical comeback against the Yankees and the first World Series win in 86 years for the Sox, if you'll recall...)
Once again, the answer is a resounding NO, as no sports result could ever possibly equate a life, with all its dreams, hopes and aspirations that dwarf any championship, any title, any crown that any competition can offer.
At least this year, they did not kill anyone because the good guys in the Boston Red Sox clubhouse did come out on top in October...
Good.
Still, there was a death shortly after the Sox won it all and partied hardy too -
Massachusetts lost one of its favorite sons, Robert Goulet.
Goulet had performed the national anthem at the Red Sox season opener at Fenway Park back in April, in what was to be their most dominant year ever and his final performance on a major platform...
One wonders if the cool Boston air in April was not good to him...
He was diagnosed with a rare form of pulmonary fibrosis and had been awaiting a lung transplant in Los Angeles - where the Red Sox began their post-season dominance by sweeping the local Angels.
Goulet's famous baritone voice was stiffled in the end by the presence of a breathing tube - and time ran out on him as no lung donor was found in time.
He was 73 - the age my dear father would be.
Why is there always to be some tragedy attached to a Boston triumph?
Shades of the Curse...
Labels: Goulet, lugubrious simulpost, Red Sox, simulcast, Snelgrove