First, the big cement tub they call a baseball park in St. Petersburg, Fla., exploded.
Second, the TV in the Missoulian newsroom clicked off with a whimpering beep.
Pierre LaBossiere is a copy editor and page designer at the newspaper.
Pierre is a really good guy. He tells funny stories. He routinely tries to kill himself climbing far-flung peaks around the West. And he attracts more wildlife than Noah.
Unfortunately, he's also a Red Sox fan. He's the one who flipped the switch even before the Rays could start their infield dog pile.
If you haven't noticed, things have been brutal lately for followers of the Boston baseball nine.
With only two World Series titles in the past six seasons and four trips to the ALCS, you can feel their agony.
As I walked past Pierre's desk Sunday night, his was a face of stone.
It must have mirrored the executives at Fox Sports, which will televise the World Series matchup between the upstart Rays and the Philadelphia Phillies. The big event starts Wednesday night in Florida.
“I'm not on a cell phone hanging off the ledge of a building,” Fox's president Ed Goren told Bloomberg News. “It's a little premature.”
Goren was talking about the expected putrid television numbers the Series will bring in without the Bosox in one corner.
Cry me a river, Ed.
You too, Pierre. You can weep all you want. I'd like to watch.
If that sounds cruel, you're right. But I'm glad the Olde Towne Team didn't make the big show, and I have my reasons.
Ever since winning the championship in 2004, Red Sox fans have become just as insufferable as their blue-blooded brothers and sisters - New York Yankees fans.
Any more, the sense of entitlement pervading the Northeast - and thousands of pockets across the country wherever the two teams' backers abide - is enough to choke on.
Watching the young Rays jump out to a 3-1 lead in the ALCS and then let the Red Sox back into it before painfully slamming the door in Game 7 was satisfying.
The joy Boston faithful felt in 2004 after 86 years of futility was certainly understandable.
But even through all the years of losing - of watching New York's Bucky Dent hit them in the stomach in 1978, of watching the ball roll through Bill Buckner's legs in 1986 - there was so much whining.
Unlike Chicago Cubs fans, whose Midwestern acceptance of inevitable disappointment makes them endearing, Red Sox fans went from pugnacious to preening. And it wasn't pretty.
Jealous you say?
Perhaps. My Seattle Mariners certainly aren't setting the world on fire, and when it comes to futility few can match the Northwest Ne'erdowells.
But ever since the Crimson Hose Showdown of 2000, I've had a dark place in my bitter little heart for Boston backers.
It was a black night at Safeco Field. Jason Varitek had just blasted a three-run home run with two outs in the eighth inning to give the Red Sox what would end up being an 8-5 victory over Seattle.
As I walked to my car, my hands in my pockets and my head down, a Bosox fan jumped in front of me, his face 3 inches from mine. Waving his arms, he hollered, “Ooooh, too bad!”
Without hesitating, my hand shot up and knocked the cap off his head. I kept walking, and, sure enough, a few seconds later I felt a strong blow to the back of my head as the offended party attempted to knock my hat off.
Perhaps it's unfair to assign blame to an entire group over the actions of one - and it's not as if I didn't fire a shot. But wars have started over less, and mine with the Red Sox will go on.
There's something about stealing beans from a giant that I find satisfying. Even if they are Boston-baked.
Columnist John Smithers can be reached at 523-5257 or at jsmithers@missoulian.com.
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Kevin Howlett wrote on Oct 22, 2008 10:04 AM: