David Ortiz, a Fallen Hero and a No More Christmas in August

That's the top of my dresser and that's a fallen Little David Ortiz -- and I refuse to pick him up and stick him back into his base. I've picked Little David Ortiz up about a million times since the summer of 2004 but not today, not anymore.



Yeah, I'm a grown man with vintage South Park stuffies on his dresser. You got a problem with that?



So, now you know a not-so-well kept secret, I'm a Boston Red Sox fan. I'm a Mets fan and a Sox fan. It's possible. It's allowed. And its fairly common. It's a natural progression for a born and bred Yankee hater. Especially for a kid in 1975 that got to watch the most amazing World Series ever. When a bunch of regular guys with names like Doyle, Tiant, Carbo, Evans, Burleson and Lee took on the Big Red Machine.

That's a bar stool with the faces of many of the perfectly tooled cogs of the Machine. Bill Simmons found it at a convention. Lots of great stuff. Go!

Later in 1978, I was in a room at a party, wearing my red, Red Sox hat adrift in a sea of angry, dark blue Yankee fans, watching TV, when Bucky Dent did what he did and, even more memorably, Yaz ( a fellow Long Islander) didn't do what he might have.

That's why I bought Little David Ortiz back in the late summer of 2004 and set him up in the kitchen. When the Sox lost a game, everyone who cared found something to put on Little David Ortiz before the next game. When the Sox won, there was much rejoicing and our Little David Ortiz shrine got partial credit. When the Sox won it all, well, Little David Ortiz became a legend.

Now, its a late summer tradition, moving Little David Ortiz from my dresser to the kitchen, dusting him off and removing last seasons collection of talismans. The kids looked forward to it. It was like getting to bring down the big box of Christmas stuff in August.

It's getting to be that time of year and I don't know what to do.