Saints, Sox, and Tom

Yesterday was spent watching way, way too much of what my mother used to call the “boob tube”. I had eminent justification for my excess as the Red Sox needed to win to get into the playoffs in their last regular season game of the year, Tom Brady was returning to Foxboro as an enemy for the first time, and there was the whole movie prequel to the Sopranos to check out. It was an exciting day, even if it was spent mostly in the Man Cave engulfed in what my Favorite Panamanian refers to as my criminally powerful sound system.

Let’s take them as they came. The Many Saints of Newark was greatly anticipated. I recently binge watched the entire Sopranos series in preparation for the experience. I think that was a mistake because there was no way this new cast could live up to the ideals set over the seven seasons of the tv series. As my daughter ably pointed out to me, the movie is only tangentially about Tony Soprano. This was the story of his beloved uncle and father of Chris which allowed some parallels to Tony’s own eventual crime career.  Gandolfini’s actual son plays the young Tony and is hauntingly good but again he’s only a subplot. It was eerie, but also kind of cool, to have Chris himself narrating the film from his grave. The film is serviceable with the lead actor Alessandro Nivola doing a great job as the conflicted mobster. My biggest disappointment was the depiction of two of the major characters from the tv series, Livia and Junior. These two banes of Tony’s existence were present but didn’t assert themselves to the degree I thought they should have. Livia, especially, was a huge disappointment but, in the end, this is a tribute to the original actress, Nancy Marchand, who played the elder Livia, no one could replace her. Junior’s character shouldn’t have been so daunting and I love Carey Stoll but he just wasn’t up to the task. So, in the end, a passable crime flick that falls light years short of the exquisite tv series.

Next up were my beloved Red Sox. You’ll note I’ve been conspicuously quiet this year as they made their way through the season. I think part of that is the superstition that all Sox fans are born with that saying anything would derail what turned out to be a very exciting season. I remember a gathering at my son’s place before the season when he, I and Soxfather were discussing the upcoming season. I was my usual optimistic self (at least in reference to the Sox) while my Favorite Son was his typical cautionary self (an engineer don’t you know). I boldly predicted the Red Sox would win 92 game this year while my son scoffed at that total. I was looking pretty good through the early summer and then came the inevitable semi-collapse in August. Despite their fall, there were signs the team could just eke out a playoff berth. That looked doomed after a lost three days in Baltimore earlier this week. They left themselves with the need to sweep a bad but still game Washington team. Somehow, they made it happen in the first two games with a couple exciting wins. Yesterday however they fell behind 5-1 early and seemed to have mailed in their effort. Then the old Sox magic came back when a 7^th inning rally was followed by a 9^th inning bomb from Devers to win the game. I was texting with the family throughout as the Sox won their 92d game (Yep!) and will host the hated Yankees for a wild card playoff game tomorrow. I have no illusions about a deep playoff run but this was a fun team to watch all summer (except for August).

Finally, we arrive at the culmination of the soap opera that has consumed New England for the past month – the return of Tom Brady. I hated the melodrama surrounding the whole event but when as dominant a sports personality as Brady remains returns not only as an opposing player but the reigning Super Bowl champion (ouch). It seemed every semi-talented sports personality wanted to glom onto the Brady-Belichick dynamic and pontificate. Since both people in that dynamic are fairly private (Belichick psychotically so) everything being put out there qualified as conjecture. Luckily the game outshone the hype. I didn’t think the Pats stood a chance with a rookie quarterback and a suspect defense. The defense rose to the occasion and kept Brady confused most of the game, he didn’t throw a single touchdown pass. The rookie stood on his head and dueled throughout the night. Then they gave Brady the ball back with 5 minutes to play, Ruh Roh! Predictably, three minutes later the Pats trailed by a point but gamely marched down the field only to have a last minute winning field goal carom off the goalpost. A great game where, despite his lack of stats, you figured Brady would find a way. It turned out to be frustrating because they could have won, so a little bit of insomnia but I was buoyed by how well the team played. So a long day in the Cave got a little longer; there are some really weird things on TV late at night.

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RECURRING CHARACTERS                                           

BR3 – granddaughter #3, BRS - Blog Reader the Sequel - second granddaughter; FBR - First Blog Reader - first granddaughter, ABFA – Amazing Best Family Athlete = my daughter in law; Wingman – my son in law; Wingmom – Wingman’s mom, of course; Keene Friends 1 & 2 – friends since high school from my home town of Keene, NH; Soxfather - my brother in law; Great Aunt - my elder sister; Cantankerous Friend – friend since grade school who likes to argue about everything, poses as radical leftist to attract women; Kindergarten Friend – friend since kindergarten whom I reunited with after many years; Pittsburgh College Roommate– high school friend, also a “Minor Celebrity” in Pittsburgh; Deckzilla – our backyard deck which grew to monstrous dimensions once my wife got involved in planning; Maine and Virginia Musqueteras – two close friends of my wife – her US sisters, my wife is the 3^rd musquetera (musketeer); Riggins - also known as the Grandpuppy, son's dog; PanaGals – female relatives /friends of my wife from Panama; Panamanian/Latin Mafia – inevitable group of Latino friends my wife accumulates wherever we have lived & their spouses; Neighborhood Mafioso - wife's close friend and Panamanian mafia member, Favorite Panamanian - the wife (of course); First Friday – celebrations to mark the First Friday of the Week; Curbside Girls – close friends of my daughter acquired during her single days in Brooklyn