In case anyone has been in a coma, ending an unprecedented week in Boston, more than a thousand authority figures captured the second suspect, aka "white hat", the younger of the two brothers who killed at least four people in the past week, under a boat canopy in a the Watertown neighborhood of Boston, last night. Incidentally, about two miles from where my wife and I lived the majority of our last 12 years.
Everyone, rightfully so, has an opinion on what has happened. I will just say to those who are not familiar with the area or the specifics, it was an astonishing display of force, quick-thinking, and impressive organization from the Boston Police Department and local FBI, in particular. It is difficult not to be proud and in awe of the job that they performed, under the instant, global scrutiny of most governments and indeed human beings.
It is humbling to know how lucky we have got over the past few years (car bomb in Times square in 2010 that did not go off, and the heroic actions of first responders and police to minimize the damage in Boston this past week, to name a couple). It is clear we are going to have to deal with terrorist attacks on soft targets in America over at least the next generation or so. America is too big and there is too much personal freedom. Hopefully we can do some reasonable things, like install camers at each intersection in major cities, perform random bag checks, and, perhaps most important, stop being childish and naive about racial profiling and listen to much more experienced countries when they tell us it simply works. Feelings hurt are much better than people.
And how about today in Boston? Sports is always a great neutralizer and normalizer, and today I can't remember a better example. At a sold out and packed Fenway, David Ortiz, the face of the franchise, began the game with the microphone and stirred an already emotional crowd, in the presence of some of the Boston law enforcement heroes, by forcefully reminding all that want to promote fear and chaos, "This is is our f-ing city." As the Fenway crowd erupted, even the FCC got into the mix, letting the public know not only would Ortiz get a pass for his profanity, that they "stood by him" (they actually tweeted that, like they were so fired up themselves they couldn't wait 'till after the game to release that statement and their support).
Fast forward to the bottom of the seventh, where, Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" is played during every home Red Sox game. Unknown to 4 Yawkey Way, following suspect 2's apprehension last night, on a whim and his own dime, Neil Diamond hopped on a jet and traveled across country. Getting in this afternoon, he walked out on the field and led a crazed Fenway, live in song. Only to be outdone 15 minutes later, when, with two outs in the eighth and the Sox trailing, Daniel Nava, the young, Rudyesque (he was a team manager at Santa Clara, and, as an aside, is a devoutly Christian guy) who was already one more early season big hit away from being a write-in, shoo-in candidate to replace Menino next year as Mayor, hit a ball 400 feet into the stands. A very different kind of explosion erupted, and, as much cliche as it is (and it is), a better script could not have been written. The Sox won, and of course Boston won as well.
After the game, Nava spoke about how obviously a win, no matter how important, couldn't even begin to address the pain that many families are going through after this past week. Of course he is right. But the distraction is welcome, and feeling good about something, when you feel bad about a lot of things, no matter how short that distraction may last, is welcome and just, refreshing.
Boston's (and humanity's) great need for justice will be obtained. A little bit of it was already dealt out by the Boston Heroic on a normally quiet street in Watertown. To those in ivory towers that claim people and this world are getting less violent, this week was yet another painful reminder how wrong they are. The genocide of this world is sadly very much alive, perhaps only mitigated by our mostly successful removal of many communist dictators and mass murderers across the globe (of course, again, at the cost of many American lives). Otherwise, we live in a dare I say increasingly volaitile, dangerous and corrupt world. Things like overpopulation and resource depletion will surely not help.
This weekend and the upcoming weeks are about healing, and all the unexpected and encouraging gestures and actions from people empathetic to other people's hurts. This is again a situation where nobody wins; the good that does come out should and is amplified and celebrated. Today it was centered around Fenway Park. Sadly, next year, it could be somewhere in L.A. Or Memphis. or anywhere.
But just as New York did twelve years ago, Boston has clearly stood up and said something very important to the rest of the world.
It was a terrible week for this city and country. As Daniel Nava's baseball sailed out over the cheap seats today, we forgot. And that is the point. We live in a country where we are guaranteed the rights to do things that allow us to forget. To get in your car, drive anywhere you want, say Fenway park on a beautiful Spring afternoon. To sit in a stadium next to a bunch of people with very different backgrounds than you and to freely engage them and enjoy them. To explain to your boy what a double play is, or to have a beer with your buddy in the sun-drenched bleacher seats. To get up the next day and Worship God in the way you think is the most truthful. Or to not Worship, or to not believe at all. The rights to hug whom we want and to marry whom we want. To go out hunting if we want. To talk to our daughters about college and careers and that they are not limited by gender or race or class. These are our choices and our rights that this country has guaranteed us through hundreds of years of bloodshed. They are unique, and special, and great.
America and its citizens should always be the most compassionate and
caring country in the world. But, if we must, we will protect freedom
for the generations to follow. So, one day, our kids can take their kids
to Fenway. And so on.
The older I get, the more I understand how valuable freedom actually is. It is an astonishing gift. Astonishing. Big Papi isn't going to write a novel anytime soon, but i dont know of any novelist or columnist that could sum it up better. This is our f-ing city. This is our f-ing country.
I don't like "Sweet Caroline". I think the song is not good. Most people obviously (or at least ostensibly) don't agree with that. But today you had to like it. After a week of total abnormal, it was normal. It was as routine as a 6-3 ground ball, or the peanut guy whizzing overpriced food past your face to the guy who has over the years exercised his American freedom to eat in excess.
We are creatures that are comforted by things that are comfortable to us. For my daughter it is her "two cozies". For our baby it is his Mom's touch. For 37,000 Bostonians on Yawkey today, and many others watching on TV or listening on the radio, it was an offbeat rendition of the seventh inning stretch anthem. It was the green monster, not two on-the-loose monsters. It was David Ortiz singling through the David Ortiz-shift-causing-hole on the left side of the infield. It was Jerry and Don being the two biggest homers in baseball. It was watching the extremely likeable Nava cross home plate with a grin on his face normally reserved for small kids discovering the small joys of this world for the first time.
It was Spring baseball at Fenway. It was normal and pure.
And man, it was nice.
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