Last night, during the second inning of the Red Sox-Tigers game, Tigers pitcher Rick Porcello, a product of New Jersey, drilled Kevin Youkilis with a high-80s fastball, just above Youk’s protective arm gear, reportedly in retaliation for Red Sox pitchers Brad Penny and Junichi Tazawa hitting Tigers slugger Miguel Cabrera on consecutive nights. (Youkils was also hit on back-to-back nights). Youk, probably still sore about his recent poor performance in the outfield, took offense, and charged the mound. At first, Porcello didn’t want any part of the impending imbroglio, so he sidestepped the charging, puffy glob of sweat, until Youkilis, in a truly embarrassing act of frustration, threw his batting helmet at him. And this is where Porcello broke out the tried-and-true fighting style of the Garden State: avoid the initial onslaught, wrap up your opponent, toss him to the ground, and then wait for your friends to break things up before things get out of hand. I’ve used this technique many, many times. It got me through high school.
Although I wouldn't say that Youkilis got his ass kicked, I can't exactly say he comported himself heroically or even well during the dust up either. Porcello, on the other hand, did what he had to do to get through the melee. To the victor go the spoils. Here's last night's scuffle in all its glory.
Bruce Springsteen swears he's going to limit his Super Bowl halftime performance to a very un-Bruce-like 12 minutes. Although he's played short sets before, I just can't see him getting his mini-concert in under the NFL-mandated 720 seconds. I fully expect him to go off script, at least a little bit.
For all of Springsteen's anti-establishment shtick, he's always been a professional and, at least to me, always seemed more than happy to work within the parameters established by the network suits or, more recently, the Inaugural event planners above him. A rebel with a yeoman's work ethic, Springsteen is a rabble-rouser in name only: he's the kind of blue-collar worker who will help organize a union strike, but also make sure to punch out on his way to the picket line. That's just the way he's built; it's the middle-class Jersey boy in him.
Springsteen, then, will take some liberties Sunday night, but he's not about to ruin the party.
I figure he and the E Street Band will play for about 15 minutes, which should give them just enough time for three, maybe four songs. Springsteen's known for engaging the audience in between songs, so the fourth song is, in gamblers' parlance, definitely the over.
Speaking of gambling, the odds are already up for which songs Springsteen is going to play. So, in the proud WGASIG tradition of spouting off about things, I'm going to pick Springsteen's set, which, given the Boss's lengthy oeuvre, is kind of like trying to divine the penultimate paragraph of President Obama's 2012 Democratic Convention speech. But I'll give it a shot.
Opening Song: "Promised Land"
Not only has Springsteen been opening recent shows with "Promised Land," but the song's imagery, if not exactly the lyrics, fits the theme of the night. It's also guaranteed to get the place rocking because 1.) everybody knows it and 2.) it's a great freakin' song.
Second Song: "Radio Nowhere"
The opening track of "Magic," this is yet another stadium-rocker Springsteen can pull out of his hat when he wants to work the audience into a frenzy. "Is anybody alive out there?" Although far from his greatest tune, I'd be surprised if he didn't play it Sunday night. Incidentally, a friend of mine recently admitted he thought this was a Pearl Jam song. I understand his confusion.
Third Song: "My Lucky Day"
This is when Springsteen takes it down a notch—and promotes his new record at the same time! Like "Promised Land," this new song capitalizes on the night's theme, without speaking directly to it. I figure he'll either play it or producers will save it for the cheesy montage at the end of the game. ("Big man, cue the confetti!") Either way, chances are you'll hear it at some point Sunday night.
Closing Song: "Born to Run"
What? You were expecting "Born in the U.S.A."? Highly unlikely. Despite the fact that he hasn't watched a football game since Terry Bradshaw was behind center for the Steelers, Springsteen understands the significance of the event. He's not going to call up a song about Vietnam veterans struggling to survive in the great old U.S. of A on football's biggest night. The Boss is not big on irony.
He won't play "Glory Days" either. That's about washed-up high school baseball players, not concussed former football players. He'll save "Glory Days" for the next time he plays Fenway Park.
Springsteen knows how to put on a good show, which means he usually gives the people exactly what they want. "Born to Run" is that song, and he's going to play it.
Last night, during the second inning of the Red Sox-Tigers game, Tigers pitcher Rick Porcello, a product of New Jersey, drilled Kevin Youkilis with a high-80s fastball, just above Youk’s protective arm gear, reportedly in retaliation for Red Sox pitchers Brad Penny and Junichi Tazawa hitting Tigers slugger Miguel Cabrera on consecutive nights. (Youkils was also hit on back-to-back nights). Youk, probably still sore about his recent poor performance in the outfield, took offense, and charged the mound. At first, Porcello didn’t want any part of the impending imbroglio, so he sidestepped the charging, puffy glob of sweat, until Youkilis, in a truly embarrassing act of frustration, threw his batting helmet at him. And this is where Porcello broke out the tried-and-true fighting style of the Garden State: avoid the initial onslaught, wrap up your opponent, toss him to the ground, and then wait for your friends to break things up before things get out of hand. I’ve used this technique many, many times. It got me through high school.
