Eat My Sports: Adios, Big Papi

Over the past 10 and a half years, neither Bryan McBournie nor I have shied away from being avid Boston Red Sox fans. Also, should this survive another 10 and a half years, we won’t shy away from it then either. With that being the case, neither of us have bothered ogling over the single best final season of any player in any sport. I don’t care who your favorite team or player is, David Ortiz called his shot. He announced his final season, knowing the spectacle it would become and still delivered a .315 batting average, 38 home runs and 127 RBI.

Those are not I’m leaving because my skills are diminishing numbers.

Realistically I think Papi could’ve played at least one, maybe two more seasons, but a legend in his time, and trust me, he knows this, wants to go out with you remembering them at their best. The second-greatest Red Sox player of all-time after Ted Williams was extremely self aware of how he wanted to be remembered, and this season allowed us to live through one more season of Ortiz at his best and we won’t forget it.

Many people will tell you about the iconic players they watched growing up and the stories of how great they were. Ortiz fits into a specific category, I’m pretty sure by himself, as a player who brought a storied franchise back from the abyss and rewarded a tortured fan base, and more importantly, city, with three World Series titles, when man y thought they would never see one.

I could write 8,000 words on the dramatic moments I remember watching, the four times I was lucky enough to watch him play in person or the first hand accounts of how much he has meant to the city of Boston, but I’ll leave that up to Bill Simmons.

We’ll just say thank you.