After writing last week’s article about the Red Sox outfield of the 1980s as a temporary escape from whatever this 2026 season has become, I came back this Sunday hoping maybe the mood around the team would feel at least a little different. It didn’t. Another Sunday. Another loss. Another game that somehow felt familiar before it even fully unfolded. This time it happened in Atlanta, dropping the Red Sox to 19-27 through 46 games, and because I write these every Sunday, the e

There’s something fitting about this version of the Boston Red Sox sitting at 17-23 after another frustrating series against the Tampa Bay Rays. Not because the record is acceptable — it isn’t — but because six weeks into a baseball season is exactly when emotions start lying to you. Every loss feels permanent. Every cold streak feels fatal. Every sloppy inning becomes proof that the season is cooked. And yet… baseball has never worked that way. Six weeks is enough time to ex

There’s something almost poetic about where the Boston Red Sox find themselves on May 4th. Thirteen wins. Twenty-one losses. A fan base caught somewhere between frustration and forced patience. A roster that, on paper, shouldn’t feel this… stuck. And a calendar that now flips to a day owned by one of the most iconic lines in movie history: May the Force (Fourth) be with you. If you’re a Red Sox fan in 2026, you’re probably hoping for a little more than a clever pun. You’re ho

There are bad starts.There are ugly starts.And then there are starts so ugly that a franchise with postseason expectations looks at April 26, looks at a 10-17 record, and decides the only move left is the one nobody really believed they’d make this early.The Boston Red Sox have fired Alex Cora. Not in June. Not around the All-Star break. Not after a miserable road trip in July. That’s not a slump response. That’s not a routine shakeup. That’s an organization looking at the fi

Five days after the Boston Marathon bombing, the gates at Fenway Park opened again. It was April 20, 2013, a cool Saturday afternoon in Boston. The previous week had shaken the city in ways that were difficult to describe and impossible to fully understand in the moment. The Marathon had always been one of Boston’s proudest traditions—a celebration of endurance, community, and spring itself. Now it had become the center of something darker and deeply painful. The days that fo