Fight night at Fenway
For those of us there on Wednesday night, it was easy to miss the building tension between Coco Crisp and the Rays.
Last night? Not so much.
Like some other baseball fans, N4N finds a little bit of basebrawl highly entertaining and a reminder of the seemingly more frequent donnybrooks of my youth. A day after, though, I tend to agree with those who think Coco was selfish, putting himself and the team at risk at a point when injuries seemed to mutiply exponentially. And though Covelli acted the bonehead, Carl Crawford, formerly one of my favorite opposing players, and Jonny Gomes sank even lower by trying to punch Coco when he was at the bottom of the pile.
Let's go to some of the expert commentary:
Soxaholix:
Mike:
Yeah, if Batshit [Julian Tavarez] has been there, the Rays wouldn't be wondering how many days of suspension they'd be getting but how many days in the hospital they'd be staying.
Surviving Grady:
The weirdest thing [in a clip of the fight] comes at around :29--seeing someone wearing the number 7 just standing on the periphery of a brawl. That's how you know Trot Nixon has left the building. If the Dirt Dog was still in the house, Jonny Gomes would likely still be combing the Fenway infield for his wisdom teeth. As it is, I'm actually surprised Nix didn't drive to the Park and bound on the field in his civilian clothes, threatening to mop up the place with Carl Crawford.
And SoSH, the home of reasoned analysis:
TheoShmeo:
I have trouble articulating much of a defense of Crisp. He risked all kinds of bad consequences and Shields did not throw anywhere near his head, like that POS Chamberlain did with Youks. And losing him for 5 games or so when Manny's hammies are "barking" (in Francona-speak) is not what we're looking for.
At the same time, for some reason, I found everything about what Crisp did and said afterward to be downright amusing and endearing. There's something lovable about a Sox player charging the mound, avoiding the punch, halfway landing one, emerging from the pig pile with a smirk on his face and then mocking the opposition afterward, even if he was wrong headed at almost every turn.
