Clark Booth on Sports

So, we don’t have the Celtics to kick around anymore this spring. But they’ll be back on the firing line in a half dozen weeks with a gaggle of draft picks, one of which, with any luck, should be among the vaunted top-three, plus lots of pad in their... Read more

One has long disdained here the rush to judgment that obsesses that American sub-species lovingly known as “the baseball fan.” The indictment covers the idiotic pre-season predictions of the not-so-very-learned jock media, an annual exercise in pure... Read more

Have here an odd mixture of gripes and kudos, beefs and bouquets, to dispense while waiting for these feisty young Celtics to reveal their true selves after having advanced Danny Ainge’s quirky master plan a full leap so far this season. Can they make... Read more

Having famously and rather churlishly declared April to be “the cruellest month,” we can safely assume that T.S. Eliot was no fan of the sports we revel in, although he may have found the social niceties of a cricket match amusing while hanging out... Read more

“Silly Season” has arrived. It’s that interlude – not brief enough – between the final throes of spring training and the very beginning of the regular season when people who write, talk, or think about baseball for a living feel compelled to predict... Read more

It should have launched shock waves across the Kingdom of Sport and maybe in certain of its locked and sealed boardrooms, it quietly did. It should have rattled the tens of millions of couch potatoes devoted to what’s purported to be “our national game... Read more

Moments after David Price had completed his high-profile (if otherwise meaningless) bow as presumptive meal ticket of the Boston Red Sox down at Fort Myers, WBZ Radio’s intrepid Jonny Miller – relentless chronicler of our Town Team’s every waking move... Read more

“The Long Goodbye” has always been to me the very best of the incomparable Raymond Chandler’s splendid tales. You know, the one about that amiable drunk Terry Lennox and how he lead the relentless gumshoe Philip Marlowe on a merry chase through the... Read more

Stray thoughts and random observations on this and that while waiting for the next cleat to drop in aimless, pointless, and endless “Deflategate.”

And there remains a pair of salient questions, one of which logically needs be answered eventually... Read more

Still more proof of how time flies when you’re having fun, we’re about to make the far turn in the merciless death march known as the National Hockey League’s regular season.  In the course of this week, the Bruins, like the rest of their confreres,... Read more

With temps plunging down around the big goose egg and arctic gales slicing across the region like the scythe of the Reaper Himself, it’s nice to be heralding the arrival of baseball. Or at least that faint version of it that amuses the snowbirds of New... Read more

Long, long ago — probably the morning of Soupey III of imperishable memory— Anne and I attended the 9 a.m Mass at St. Eulalia’s In Winchester and the presiding prelate, a smart and sassy young priest, began by saying, “ Today is Super Sunday; the... Read more

The fact that all-star festivals in the four major professional sports have become needless folly is pretty much accepted as axiomatic. Time-worn and out of date, they only work for the host cities, as handy excuses for huge parties, and for network... Read more

Several things!  Beginning, obviously, with an appropriate farewell to your Patriots who, all things considered, put together a helluva season only to whimp out in the end it on a note of curious befuddlement. Let the second-guessing begin, and there... Read more

And so it comes down to “one more one,” as Count Basie used to like to coo. With guns ablazing, Manning and Brady meet one last time in the foothills of the Rockies with biting winds sweeping across the Great Plains and everything on the line.

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