PC knuckleheads too eager to judge

For anyone who knows Jerry Remy it was frustrating, even infuriating, watching him forced to grovel at the start of Wednesday night’s NESN telecast from Yankee Stadium, trying to assure viewers of what anyone with half a brain ought to know — that there was no hatred or xenophobia inherent in an off-the-cuff remark he made the previous evening in his role as color man.

NESN and the Sox called it an apology, but in truth it was a forced penance, better known as repentance of sins.

This is what happens when political correctness is allowed to run amok.

It would be hard to find a lover of the grand old game who hasn’t expressed exasperation over the seemingly interminable length of today’s contests, suppressing momentum and keeping bleary-eyed viewers yawning as they cheer.

That’s what Remy was addressing when he suggested that the addition of an interpreter to a conference on the mound, which New York righty Masahiro Tanaka requires, intrudes upon the rhythm of the game.

The reaction was swift and predictable: Remy, who through illness and parental heartbreak has modeled what it means to live life on life’s terms, must be filled with venom!

So said those who’ve made a cottage industry out of analyzing the hearts of others. Like the old Puritans, of whom it was said their only joy in life was condemning other people’s joy in life, there’s an insufferably arrogant element in today’s culture quick to dissect every public comment, just itching to take offense.

Some years ago when Earl Wilson, the Sox’ first black pitcher (who tossed a no-hitter in 1962), was honored at the Boston Baseball Writers Dinner, the beloved Johnny Pesky, who’d briefly been his manager, paid glowing tribute to him.

In wandering remarks Pesky noted “he’s always been a credit to his race,” eliciting a rumble of groans throughout the audience. But Johnny was never vilified because everyone knew his heart, so what he said was overlooked by those who understood what he meant.

Country singer Kathy Mattea had it right: “You’ve got to sing like you don’t need the money, love like you’ll never get hurt; you’ve got to dance like nobody’s watching — it’s gotta come from the heart if you want it to work.”

This is written by someone who knows Jerry Remy’s heart.

Besides, if he thought he was disparaging anyone’s ethnicity, do you think he would have been stupid enough to blurt it out? Please. He was ambushed by knuckleheads.

It’s as simple as that.