Girls Just Want to Have Fun
I had a certain amount of sympathy for Carl Crawford throughout his time in Boston, and maintained an element of faith that his initial season with the Red Sox would one day turn out to be an aberration of sorts. I respected his attempts to play through his elbow issues during the brutal 2012 campaign, and even slightly lamented his departure when bundled with Josh Beckett and Adrian Gonzalez during the great purge.
Any residual affability I may have had towards Carl Crawford has been eroded by exposure to the excessive number of whiny little utterances made by the player in regards to his miserable spell in Boston, with the majority of statements serving no discernible purpose other than to deflect any responsibility away from Crawford himself.
In the most recent exposé published by ESPN Los Angeles, Crawford jabs the undesirable finger of blame yet again, this time in the unlikely direction of Terry Francona, who apparently crushed Carl’s confidence by electing to bat him 7th against the Texas Rangers in only his third game for the Sox, despite such a move being commonplace, and an accepted way to alleviate pressure on a hitter.
Crawford has had a decent start to his Dodgers career, and this has offered him the opportunity to declare his affinity for the leadoff role in LA, in stark contrast to his time in Boston, where it was publically declared that he was not comfortable assuming such duties.
It’s now obvious that Carl Crawford was not comfortable with anything in Boston, except possibly the excessive fiscal remuneration heading his way, and he has systematically blamed his poor performance on everything ranging from the overzealous media coverage in the town, to the excessive demands of a hungry fanbase out to enjoy a third World Series in eight years. He refuses to accept even the slightest liability for his dreadful time in Beantown, but instead elects to play the role of victim to anyone that will listen, and it’s starting to feel like Crawford has proclaimed his innocence more in the past six months than Billy Joel has managed to do in the last thirty years.
It should come as no surprise that Carl Crawford prefers the laissez-faire attitude around Chavez Ravine, and the recent gushing endorsement of his new home draws parallels to comments made by another former Red Sox leftfielder who also made an unscheduled trip out West.
Manny Ramirez lost no time in celebrating the fact that he had broken the perceived shackles of Boston, and proceeded to rip the cover off the ball as soon as he arrived at Dodger Stadium, attributing his success to the relaxed West Coast atmosphere and easy going attitudes. Crawford cites the same positive influences on his game today as Manny did when he hit the Golden State, but that is where the similarity ends, as we now know that Manny was whacked out of his skull on PEDs, while absolutely nothing that Crawford has done over the last couple of years gives the impression that he has endorsed anything even remotely performance enhancing.
Crawford will find life in California infinitely more agreeable than playing in the goldfish bowl of Boston for one simple reason – the majority of sports fans in Los Angeles do not give a monkey’s chuff about baseball, and even less so about Carl Crawford, and will continue to adopt this ambivalent stance until the day he slams the cheeks of his butt into Kobe’s startled visage while executing a high degree of difficulty allez-oop move. Only then will Tinseltown glance oh-so-briefly up from its own bronzed and toned pectorals, and sneak a peek in the general direction of the Dodgers leftfielder. Hopefully the fragile Carl will be able to deal with the pressures that come with being under such intense scrutiny if it ever does.