February 1, 2021 will forever be know as the day the curtains closed on the Laser Show.
In 2006 a five foot nothin’, a hundred and nothin’ pound nobody showed up in Boston. For 89 at-bats this nobody did a whole lot of the nothin’, batting just .191 and showing not one ounce of future promise.
A scant six months later a completely new being showed up to Boston. The body may have been the same but the man inside was longer a nobody. He was now a Dirt Dawg.
The Dirt Dawg ripped his way through his rookie campaign to the tune of a .317 batting average and Rookie of the Year honors. But as the regular season ended, the Legend had only just begun:
Mere mortals might let a Rookie season drenched in honors and capped with a World Series victory be one they rest their laurels upon.
But not the Dirt Dawg. He only saw flaws in his game upon which to improve. And improve he did. Right into an MVP sophomore season.
As the years rolled on, Boston changed, the Red Sox changed but the Dirt Dawg never did. The Dirt Dawg was the constant, the One True North of Beantown. The beating heart of the hub.
But while a Dirt Dawg is a Dirt Dawg through and through, the body has a mind of its own. And no Dirt Dawg can last forever. They burn hard and fast, then poof they are gone.
So today rub some dirt on your uni for ol’ Number One Five. Savior the memories. Honor the hustle. The Dirt Dawg played the game his way, the Dirt Dawg Way. For it was the only way he knew.