Peggy Noonan said not too long ago that "some of life has to be mysterious", and she was right, of course. You don't need to know everything. You don't need to know what your parents did in your room while you were off that week at summer camp, for example. Or the ins and outs (literally) of a friend's colonoscopy. Or what your new boyfriend really thinks about your mother. Peggy, of course, is a complete fucking moron who was not talking about minor TMI stuff like this, but near drownings and sleep deprivation. But that doesn't make her general point any less valid.
I mention it because I just read an interview with Keith Foulke over on boston.com. Now, I would like to remember Foulke as nothing more than the guy who had an amazing 2004 season, who was on the mound when that final out was recorded, and who ended 86 long years in loser wilderness for the Red Sox. Do you think he would let me do that? Nah, had to throw it in my face just what a horse's ass he is. Doesn't care about anything. Rips on the minor league team that was kind enough to let him back into the game. Practically wears his assholeness as a badge of honor (I've never understood why people are proud of being jerks.) "Why do I always get in trouble with the fans for speaking my mind?" he asks. That's an easy one, Keith; it's mostly because you-like Schilling, whom you also take the time to dis-don't have a mind capable of converting to verbiage anything that's particularly pithy or otherwise worth hearing. (I'll never understand why people with nothing worthwhile to say think "speaking their mind" is such a virtue.) You have one talent, and it doesn't involve your mind, just your arm. That's all anybody really wants from you.
In Foulke's defense, he's not a complete snarling prick in this piece-he stands up for Manny Ramirez, which is more than any of the rest of that 2004 team who rode his golden bat to the promised land have done. He reminds us that he didn't take the money when he knew he couldn't play, which is more than a lot of ballplayers (including Curt Schilling) have done. He's an asshole, for sure, but at least he's a principled asshole. And that's gotta count for something.
Bottom line, despite the losing the congeniality crown, he has my everlasting gratitude and I wish him nothing but the best. Because everytime I think of him, I don't think of Johnny form Burger King, I think of this:
Back to Foulke! Red Sox fans have longed to hear it-The Boston Red Sox are World Champions!
Too bad he couldn't be a hero and less of a jerk, but that's the way it goes sometimes.