Football gods, you are not kind. There I was enjoying a cold beer in the rare warm rays of a new season, almost forgetting for the first time in months the pain of the 18-1, super bowl loss, when BAM, you kick me upside the head again. I know we've been spoiled around here but Tom f'in Brady, come on football gods; you still owe us something for the 70's and 80s.

I'm a bit sad that Manny's gone, though I agree with most that it was time. My favorite Manny moment was opening day 2001. I was sitting out in the right field grandstands and Manny comes to the plate for the first time at Fenway to the cheers of "Manny, Manny, Manny". First pitch is hit for a 3 run dinger. It was an electric moment.

Fenway's diamond wrapped in green.
The sleeping jewel of Boston, the long-ago home
of the Babe and the Splendid Splinter,
Yaz and Fisk, born again on an April day.

All around, the Nation's red flowed
like blood down Beacon, Boylston and Brookline.
B's blazing a top wide smiles.

Under the shadow of the The Green Monster,
Lansdowne street is littered with the jetsam of camped fans.
The hardy faithful who waited through the morning chill
for a ticket. Now steam rising from the griddle of a
sausage vendor fills the air with scents of onions and peppers.

We enter the park, under the bleachers, to the
swarm of grown adults feeling the inspiration of Spring and
long lines for beer and hotdogs. The people posing with
the statue of Wally act like the children they are again.

We fought the throng through the park's dark belly,
Going against the flow until a man yelled, 'Make Way'
as a phalanx of blue coated police escorted jeweled
rings toward the waiting lords of the diamond.

Two cold beers for fourteen fifty seemed cheap
as they sloshed in their plastic cups. Calls of
'Got cold beverage here', elicits laughs
but no fewer bumps.

Anonymous elbow to elbow
I climbed the ramp with Peter Gammons.
Just two fans emerging into the sunlight of a new season.
The man in front of me turns and stares for
a minute and exchanges pleasantries with
the famous one of us.

During the ring ceremony, tiny hands clutched the billowing
new banner. 2004 would not be eclipsed.
The ghosts of the curse reminds us one more time
just how special that season was.

Big bellied men hid beers under magic seats,
laughing and bellowing, 'Sheffield you bum'.
My wife took picture after picture
And a self-proclaimed Fenway virgin cried
as we all remembered leaner days.

It's been a long time since the sports fan pain has been so unbearable. I blame the red hoodie.

We all have heroes. Some are famous, some are not but they all leave an impact on our lives. I thought it would be fun to explore this theme through a couple of blog posts.

Most of you probably have never heard of Emma Gatewood but her story has been a part of my psyche since my early 20s. In 1955, at the age of 67, Mrs. Gatewood hiked the Appalachian trail from Georgia to Maine by herself and she did this with the most rudimentary of equipment: Ked sneakers, an army blanket and a plastic shower curtain all carried in a duffel bag over her shoulder.

I carry this story with me not because of her age, her sex or that fact that she was the first to complete this particular hike solo and she did it twice more over the next 8 years. Those are all inspirational but to me the part of her story that's stuck with me is that you just don't need fancy gear to do things. If you just put your existing kit over your shoulder and put one foot in front of another it's amazing what you can accomplish.

Funny article in TheOnion about Matsuzaka mania.

"Boston fans are the greatest fans in the world," Matsuzaka told reporters through an interpreter upon being asked if he had left Japan out of fears that his Ultimate Galactic Dragon Gyroball Pitch Power Explosion might split Mount Fuji, strike the rising sun from the sky, and awaken the wrathful atomic lizard Gojira. "I'm very happy and excited to be a member of the Red Sox."

I just heard Dennis Johnson has died. What a shock, he was only 52. I can still hear the echoes of Johnny Most calling that famous Celtic's 1987 playoff game against the Detroit Pistons.

Now there's a steal by Bird! Underneath to DJ! He lays it up and in!!...Right at one second left!! What a play by Bird! Bird stole the inbounding pass, laid it up to DJ, and DJ laid it up and in, and Boston has a one-point lead with one second left! OH, MY, THIS PLACE IS GOING CRAZY!!!

DJ will always be a part of every Boston sports fans heart.

I hate to admit this, but there are a couple of Yankee baseball player I don't despise. Over the years I've developed a grudging respect for a couple of players - Hideki Matsui being one of them. This respect was amplified last night as I watched Matsui dive and break his wrist and still get up, grab the ball with his good hand and make the throw into the infield. He's a great player and I wish him a speedy recovery.