Rider Insider

Sorry for the long break in between posts, Camille Toes. But for the last two weeks, everything and everybody sucks.  I can even put my finger on when it began. It started when I asked Garrett to get me somewhere on time. Here’s the story:

***

It’s Saturday night and Garrett has brought me to the Banshee Pub.  Since we’re running on Garrett time we’re late.  And not fashionably so, we roll into the bar with 10 minutes left in the half.  (No excuses Garrett, no one wants to hear them! Thanks for the ride though.)

I’m impressed by the fact that the game is actually on.  And what is that over there? It’s free food. How delightful.  There’s even a dedicated bartender just to serve the Midnight Riders and Rev Army members who put their lives on the line by venturing into Dorchester. It’s decided by everyone there that we’re coming back to the Banshee.

It’s Garrett’s birthday so I buy him a shot. But he’s driving so I take it myself. Jack Daniels. Things from there got a little bit fuzzy. Goals being scored. People swearing. The Revs lose. A strange couple downstairs humping the crap out of each other. Horse The Band. Hipsters everywhere. People talking shit about Fran and Joe in some apartment on Forest Hills St. A girl in her underwear on a hammock on a porch.

I awake in my friend’s apartment on Beacon Hill.

-Dude, do you want some water or something? You look like shit.

-Oh, thanks. Why am I here?

Both my arms are asleep under the crush of my body. They don’t feel attached anymore. Pins and needles and all that shit.

-You refused to go home and you had to go somewhere. You were harassing the lady in charge of the line at the diner. I have to run though; I’m meeting my dad for lunch.

It’s 1 pm. I slept all day. I try to sit up and feel like my head is going to explode. I start looking for something to restore my being to a more normal level. Tearing through cabinets and drawers, there’s nothing. I remember that he broke up with girlfriend not too long ago and his now lonely apartment has a kitchen to match. I eat an entire bag of leftover Reese’s Candy Eggs which despite my complaints are relatively satisfying.

The apartment is hot and sticky and I manage to catch of whiff of my very own stench and it’s the unmistakable stench of stale beer, mostly likely coming out of my pores. I have to go home and shower, luckily it’s only a 45-minute T ride away.

The sweet, artificial peanut butter is fueling me forward towards Park Street. There are so many people outside enjoying their day and I despise all of them. The bright sun is giving me a splitting headache and I am not looking forward to the T ride ahead.

Naturally, the T is packed; I jam in next to a woman with a really chubby baby. The woman gives me a disapproving look; I assume my odor has given her the wrong impression of me. Her baby starts crying and doesn’t stop until they get off at Chestnut Hill. The baby is overweight and is covered in food stains and crumbs. The love of food must run in the family because the mother is also fat. I picture the mother eating in a manner similar to that of Cookie Monster and the baby living quite well by scavenging off of the mother’s crumbs and scraps.

The green line is so terrible. I still don’t understand how the D line can even have delays if it doesn’t have to deal with traffic.

Then mercifully, finally, I am home.

- Yo, what happened to Revs last night?

- They sucked.

***

I think we were all in denial after that game two weeks ago. They would surely turn it around in the next match, at home with struggling Houston coming to town. What we were served instead was big steaming pile of suck. A real toothless performance, that when coupled with the 6-0 match of a week ago may just show us the fiber of this team’s fabric: A team with no experience and a lot of raw, unpolished ability. This team may have the makings of a competitor a few years down the road but right now they don’t look capable of anything positive. If they had some championship grace period to work with, a rebuilding year would be acceptable, but we never got that championship, did we? I’ll try to keep the negative rant to a minimum here in regards to the team since I’m sure it is all you’ve read about in the last few days.

***

In addition to the Revs, the T, and Fran and Joe all sucking, the Barra Revolución Latina also sucked. I don’t understand why Brad Feldman showered them with praise throughout the telecast of the game and then continued to in his Broadcast Booth Bits article as well. I usually feel that Feldman doesn’t blatantly push the company agenda and he seems like he could even be a decent guy (he lists Red Wings as his preferred pre-match hang out) but his praise of this new “Supporters Group” seems a little bit misplaced. I wish I had taken a picture of them all sitting down huddled in the rain. I didn’t even realize their presence until 40 minutes of the match had passed. Sure the game was miserable and LE Eisenmenger made a good point on Twitter when she wrote, “La Barra had good reason to be quiet, if they were loud I’d suspect capitalism. Hope they return.” But the Midnight Riders, Rev Army, and the rest of the fort didn’t get quiet during the rest of the match? That’s not the point of in-match support. You’re supposed to continue on cheering and hopefully spur the club on to a better performance.  I’d love for the BRL to come back and make a difference in the Fort.  The Fort needs all the help it can get but I just hope they show enough dedication to team to make it the full 90 no matter the weather.

***

Wow this got very lengthy; I guess I had a lot to say. Thanks for reading Camille Toes, I await your entertaining responses. Look forward to a post later this week on the Breakers and our next viewing party. Also, Maya, I left you tickets at the gate the last two games and you haven’t picked them up. Is there something the matter?