Media insiders are having fits over the departure of Jon Lester after seven years and World Series glory.
For the goldfish memory world of attention deficit old timers, Lester is the worst that could happen in Boston sports.
Pardon us: Didn’t we have this same experience last year with Paul Pierce—and his kemo sabe, Kevin Garnett? Wasn’t that twice as worse? Or are we being half-bad?
If you like Chinese water torture, the media has plenty of drops to fall on your head. Each day now for a month, the media supplies us with “So long, Lester,” stories. As we recall, this refrain lasted months with the Celtics. It could have been a year in the making.
Pierce was on the Boston scene for much longer than Lester, and the Celtics really didn’t insult him with one lousy, lowball contract offer.
The Red Sox took their vaunted cancer-survivor lefty starter and offered him a box of Crackerjack and the secret prize if he stayed in Boston. Talk about opening the door a crack and singing, “Hit the road, Jack.”
Paul Pierce and Jon Lester both have told media insiders how much they love Boston and may want to end their careers here—some day. Ain’t sentiment sweet?
Of course, such impassioned feelings may change by the time the final hammer is dropped on your noggin.
Let’s not hear how players will do anything for money when it comes to Pierce or Lester. It is the creepy media that creates tidal waves of destruction on their cat’s paws. When the online world and radio blabbers of sport say your time is up, you better believe it.