(originally posted 7/5/07)It was worth every second. All of the physical and mental anguish. Almost five days of extreme deprivation. We were united for a cause. And we succeeded. This Tuesday, the world will enjoy the fruits of the labor that we brutally subjected upon ourselves. But we care not for accolades. Our only concern is that justice has been served.
One-hundred and fifty-eight hardy souls gathered in a subterranean bunker in Saugus, Massachusetts. Humans, robots, and monkeys, alike, cloistered underground with the goal of ensuring Boston Red Sox reliever Hideki Okajima's election to the the American League All-Star Team. (And, yes, robots have souls, but that is a story for another blog post.) We were not to be dissuaded by logical arguments, such as "Okajima has pitched less than half as many innings as his (non-Neshek) competitors." Or, "He's a goddamn relief pitcher, for crissakes." As the Red Sox candidate, Okajima would receive our full voting support. Just as Messrs. Damon and Varitek had, in The Time Before The Great Victory.
As we sat for days, casting vote after vote for Okajima and San Diego Padres SP Chris Young (the robots were rather adamant about giving our NL support to Young, for reasons not known. Yet.), we subsisted on a diet of Aquafina and dragon bones. Two large television screens hung from the opposite end of the room. One displayed Red Sox action, both live, and from the Sox' glorious history. Pre- and postgame content, not including any car racing-themed segments, was also available. On the other screen, Escape from New York was played continuously. The collective brilliance of Matsuzaka and Plissken served as additional inspiration, as we increased our voting output into the millions.
The monkeys were the first to succumb to the perilous conditions. In the middle of Day Three, as Snake Plissken battled the Giant in N.Y. Library, and Rich Garces battled the Yankees in Yankee Stadium, the monkeys revolted. They began to beat the computers, and each other, with the dragon bones. It was neccessary that they be forcibly removed, and "sequestered." The robots were unmoved by the simians' demonstration, as they continued to vote unerringly. The behavior of the robots was, perhaps, more disconcerting than that of the monkeys. Someday, the goals of the humans and the robots will be in opposition. I fear that day. I think we all do.
I managed to make it hours into the last day, before the sleep deprivation affected my perception of reality. I had not slept for days, as the steel implements fashioned by Mike Timlin had prevented my eyes from closing. But I fell into a state somewhere between sleep and hallucination, as I continued to Vote Okajima/Young. My visions became increasingly vivid. I saw a Red Sox OF named Jacoby score from second on a wild pitch. A Red Sox SS named Julio reached first base on an actual hit. Not Jason pitched hitless inning after hitless inning. My mind journeyed to the Red Sox' Picnic in the Park where, teamed with Batshit Crazy Tavarez, we defeated David and D'Angelo Ortiz in a fierce badminton match. Next, I won the top auction prize at the Picnic- the opportunity to cover a Red Sox game with the Globe's Gordon Edes and Amalie Benjamin. Suddenly, I sat in the Fenway Park Press Box, with Gordon the Great's Pad O' Stats mere inches my grasp. I reached for it, eager to greedily devour the statistical goodness contained within the nondescript cardboard covers. My insatiable thirst soon to be quenched, I opened to a random page and began to...
It was over. I was jolted into consciousness by the celebratory yells of the other humans. Before we fled out onto the streets of Saugus, to begin proclaiming that Okajima is A#1, and to find a place that served something other than dragon bones, I took once last look at my computer. The screen that I had spent what seemed like eons staring at, stared back at me. One final vote for Okajima awaited entry of the validation code. I typed in 102704 on the ergonomic keyboard, and clicked, sending one last show of support for Okajima into cyberspace.
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