Jerry Remy

I wanted to be upbeat today.

I can't. Jerry Remy, for Christ sake. It's not like we couldn't see this coming; what it is, is another celebrity death that feels like the death of a family member.

The emptiness, the hurt. But the guy fought like a son of a bitch against evil cancer. It took 7 boughts with this vicious disease to lay him down. That is how you deal with terminal illness - with a bold and defiant Fuck You.

The man was an absolute joy in the Red Sox broadcast booth, the pinnacle of which was his relationship with Don Orsillo. They made us laugh so often and so hard. Most of today's broadcasters are stuffy and one dimensional - they put me to sleep with their obsession with statistics and the monotone in which they speak.

There were times during Red Sox games that both Jerry and Don would lose it laughing - just fucking crack up - and there would be on-air silence. Neither one of them could pull it together enough to offer any commentary of the game. Don would try to say something and his voice would crack and he would be half laughing and half talking. That was fantastic. That was real. That was two men being human. Two men enjoying themselves. Carol and I always loved those moments, and we laughed right along with them. A lot.

Now all you get is robots, except for Eck of course.

He was also a joy because he was an Everyman. You could identify with him; he was a straight shooter, humble and down to earth. He was self-deprecating to a fault and often made fun of his own career. He was proud of his fielding and base stealing and bunting expertise, and his career batting average was .275, which is pretty damn good. But he only hit seven home runs and he would joke about that all the time.

He was a stay at home guy. He talked about that a lot. He didn't like to go out. Loved to sit in his recliner and watch sports. After a game at Fenway he would get out of the park and home as fast as he possibly could. When the Sox were on the road he would get up early, sit in the lobby of the hotel and people watch.

He was not into glamor or attention; he could have been but chose not to.

He was old school; I am sure he did not like the rule protecting second basemen from base stealers, the rule barring catchers from blocking the plate, the use of "the shift", the fact that starting pitchers routinely pitch only 6 or 7 innings, followed by set-up men and closers.

I guarantee you he fucking hated all the ridiculous stats and measurement tools that are used in baseball now; you could hear the contempt in his voice when he had to comment on them.

He played second base for the Red sox from 1978 to 1985; he retired in 1986. I was not focused on Jerry Remy at the time. For me it was Dwight Evans (loved Dewey), Carl Yastrzemski, Jim Rice, Carlton Fisk etc...... I was not focused on Jerry but I am sure there were many times when I cheered him on.

In 1988 he joined NESN as the color commentator for the Red Sox. 1988-2021 - that is one hell of a run, baby. That is when we all got to know the real Jerry Remy. Keith put it in perspective for me with this comment about Jerry's death: "It does hurt. He was so much a part of the Red Sox experience for my entire adult life."

As far as color commentators go I remember Johnny Pesky, Mel Parnell, Ken Harrelson, Bob Montgomery - Keith remembers Jerry Remy. Because of his longevity and his impact. What he brought to the booth will never be matched. You cannot think about Red Sox broadcasts without thinking about Jerry Remy. That booth is going to be and to sound so empty next year.

Jerry was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2008. He has been fighting this fucking disease for 13 years. Thirteen. And every time he was hospitalized, Red Sox fans worried. He blamed the disease on years of smoking and spoke out regularly to warn people off cigarettes.

He never whined about it, never complained - he kept a remarkably positive attitude, and I'm sure inspired a lot of cancer patients to never give up.

A very strong man and an amazing example.

He threw out the first pitch on October 5th at Fenway before the Red Sox/Yankees wild card game. His last public appearance. The fans went wild. He had an oxygen hook-up to his nose and he was moving carefully but he was still smiling and laughing. That is how tough this man was.

25 days later he died.

I have tried to do the man some justice here but I fell short. He was an icon on many levels.

As a player, especially as a broadcaster, as a man who fought back as hard against cancer as a human being can. He made us laugh. He was honest, no bullshit. He was humble. He was knowlegable. His color commentary was spot on. He was kind. He was considerate.

He made his fans feel good. I don't think there is any higher compliment. He made people feel good and people loved him.

This is a huge loss for Red Sox fans and his family. This was a man to be respected and emulated.

Love you, Jerry.