NO JOY ON JERSEY STREET

That — Jersey Street – is what became of Yawkey Way after the posthumous mugging of the late, once-beloved Tom Yawkey over questions of his racial attitudes. I won’t open that big can of snakes again — but, yes, as winter grips Beantown and that short, shadowy byway astride Fenway Park awaits the crowds of opening  day and the Sox begin their ritual preps in Fort Myers – I’d have to say, as a Boston native and unalterable fan of all Boston teams, that the loss of Mookie Betts is, well, too, too bad. Who can deny it? But that’s pro sports now. We root for laundry, as Jerry Seinfeld so aptly said.

Some Boston scports scribes are allegedly suggesting that Mookie could become a Hall of Fame Dodger, maybe on the order of Jackie Robinson.

They come, they go, they come, they go….what do I know? If I owned a major league baseball team, the roster — and the league standings — would probably go unchanged forever. There would be a convalescent dwelling adjoining the park for all the retirees, complete with rocking chairs. Wouldn’t that be something!

The Sox front office, so far as I know, has a door that opens on Jersey Street. Hope the guys up those stairs know what they’re doing. It’s business, as they say.

One recalls how Ch. 4’s Bob Lobell, describing some new achievement by some former Red Sock, would say, tartly, “I wish we had player like that!”

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