London Calling

Game 44 - Red Sox

Yankees 8, Red Sox 6
Record: 26-18

Since I didn't see this game, and it seems good that I didn't, now it's time for something completely different.

SoSH luminary Jose Melendez points out the surprising and sublime fact that Sox’ third-sacker Mike Lowell approaches the plate to the strains of London Calling, by legendary rockers The Clash. Setting aside for the moment the fact that Lowell will now automatically become Whitney’s favorite player, this nugget of triviana got me to pondering the most appropriate theme songs for the rest of the Sox lineup.

Kevin Youkilis – How can we go wrong with Hava Nagila here? Gets the crowd up and moving, puts a little rhythmic hop in Youks’ step, confuses the hell out of the opposing pitcher. Count it.

Mark Loretta – Must resist the urge to take the easy way out, and drop Coal Miner’s Daughter on the Sox’ second baseman. But what to do for a guy that defines stoic, solid, and nondescript? Let’s roll with Steady, As She Goes by the Raconteurs. And if you don’t know that song, you will, and you should.

David Ortiz – so many options for Papi, but I think we’ll let the big man stride to the plate to the tune that most often goes through my head when he steps up, the Violent Femmes’ Gone Daddy Gone. That title describes the baseball’s destination often enough that we’ll forgive last night’s 0-for-5, 4K performance.

Manny Ramirez – the Sox’ most enigmatic offensive force gets some help from one of rock’s most prolific shape shifters, arriving at the plate to a medley of offerings from the Thin White Duke, including Rebel Rebel, Fame, and Heroes.

Trot Nixon – lessee, something rednecky, grimy, gritty for the Sox’ original dirt dog. I love Copperhead Road, by Steve Earle, and I bet Trot does, too.

Jason Varitek – the taciturn captain has always longed to let his hair down, and we’re here to oblige, spinning Loverboy’s Turn Me Loose, which doubles as a prayer from the Nation to Tek’s bat.

Coco Crisp – with a name like his, Coco’s a perfect fit for The Tra La La Song (One Banana, Two Banana), the theme from The Banana Splits, as sung by Liz Phair.

Wily Mo Pena – I don’t know much from Latin music, but I think Sean Paul’s Temperature works for the erratic Wily Mo, in that Sox fans never know from at bat to at bat whether he’ll be scorching or arctic.

Alex Gonzalez – High Hopes fits for the noodle-stick shortstop, because I’m trying to remain optimistic, and because he reminds of the ant that’s trying to tackle the rubber tree plant during most trips to the plate.

Doug Mirabelli – I can’t get George Thoroughgood’s image out of my head while thinking about ‘Belli’s theme, but we’ll avoid the cliché by going with Who Do You Love.

Alex Cora – the reputed brainiest player on the Sox roster gets rewarded with a tune from rock’s reigning valedictorians, accompanied by They Might Be Giants’ Don’t Lets Start.

Willie Harris – the Sox’ only African-American player (and, wow, is that a testament to the fact that baseball gets no run at all in the black community) goes with the Godfather of Soul, firing himself up to the funky stylings of James Brown’s Get on the Good Foot.

J.T. Snow – the quietly disgruntled and essentially discarded Snow gets Solitary Man, by Johnny Cash.

Dustan Mohr – last, and most definitely least…I stayed away (reluctantly) from the very punny Dust in the Wind, (get it, Dustan…the wind?) but that didn’t leave me with much. Instead, the equally punny (just takes a little more thought) Rebel Yell, by Billy Idol gets Dustan to the plate.

In the interest of time, and in recognition of the limitations of my creativity, we’ll get to the pitching staff in a later installment. Viewer suggestions are welcome – like Bill Simmons, we’re not above milking the combined wisdom of the giant throbbing brain of our readership for a cheap blog entry.