Henry’s given chance to make the right play
John Henry, this one’s for you. Did you ever see “Dead Poets Society,” a terrific film in which the late Robin Williams portrays the kind of teacher everyone ought to have?
In one memorable scene he explores Walt Whitman’s “O me, O life,” suggesting the great poet’s underlying point was, “The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse; boys, what will your verse be?”
Thursday’s opener at Fenway Park was a glorious example of the play that goes on, paying tributes to Bobby Doerr, one of Fenway’s four horsemen along with Ted, Dom and Johnny, and to Jerry Moses, a catcher on 1967’s Impossible Dream team.
They all contributed marvelous verses and then the powerful play went on.
Imagine, Babe Ruth pitched from the same mound where David Price excelled on Thursday. So did Boo Ferriss, El Tiante, Roger and Pedro. Each contributed a memorable verse, and then the powerful play went on.
We’re what’s known as a baseball town.
That’s why owning the Red Sox is a lot different from, say, owning the Globe.
The Sox are more than a possession; they’re a sacred trust.
You’ll hear their games in factories, nursing homes, neighborhood taverns, traffic on the Expressway and pretty soon on beaches, too.
Quick: What’s the one thing liberals and conservatives, blacks and whites, Republicans and Democrats, gays and straights, all agree on around here? They all want to beat the Yankees.
We don’t have to go to every fight we’re invited to, John, and you sure got snookered by the smarmy crowd that thrust you into this one, persuading you it would be a classic PC gesture to erase Tom Yawkey’s name from the street that houses Fenway Park, alleging your predecessor was a redneck.
They sure didn’t do you any favors.
Now you’re in the untenable position of pooh-poohing earnest objections from Jack Connors, and Gentleman Jim Lonborg, and Cardinal O’Malley and Ray Hammond, one of this city’s most admired clerics.
Even the Jackie Robinson Foundation has cautioned you to reconsider.
So do yourself a favor. Tell the fans, “You’ve spoken, we’ve listened, and we’ll honor your wishes.” Then leave Yawkey Way alone.
Weakness? Please.
As Bill Russell notes, “In order to lead you must know how to follow.”
We’ve had outstanding owners here. Walter Brown loved his Celtics, and Weston Adams Sr. rode a bus to personally scout Bobby Orr, and Bob Kraft has guided the Patriots to inconceivable glory.
Yawkey? His 44 years of devotion to his Sox were the stuff of legend.
Maybe you could wind up in their league someday.
Or you could become a kindred spirit to Harry Frazee, that knucklehead who shipped the Bambino to New York.
You’re at a moment of decision, John.
As Spike Lee would say, “Do the Right Thing”!
Then this powerful play can go on.