​




A Boston sports tragedy with political undertones.

Let’s go back to one of the most bizarre, painful, and unforgettable moments in Red Sox history: Don Zimmer, once the old-school heartbeat of Boston baseball, tumbling face-first into the Fenway grass--in a Yankees uniform.

It wasn’t just the fall. It was who he was falling for. And who he’d become.
This wasn’t just a baseball moment. It was a full-blown Greek tragedy in a polyester uniform. A Boston guy going Bronx, charging Pedro Martinez like a runaway T train, only to be gently—and embarrassingly—redirected into the turf by a guy half his age.

You could hear it echo across New England: "Zim… what the hell are you doing?"

The Man Before the Mess
Don Zimmer wasn’t just a coach. He was a grinder. A lifer. A baseball rat with deep roots and deep love for the game—and for Boston.

He played for the Sox. He coached the Sox. He wore his heart on his sleeve and that sleeve often had Red Sox dirt on it. He was old-school tough, the kind of guy you wanted in your dugout when things got hairy. He knew the Green Monster like it was his own backyard fence.

But Boston didn’t treat Zim like royalty. After his managerial stint ended without a ring, the front office gave him the boot. No farewell parade. Just a ticket out.

So what did he do? He went full traitor (we say it lovingly) and put on pinstripes.

Why Did Zimmer Join the Yankees? Two reasons:

1. Love of the game. The Yankees gave him a spot when nobody else would.
2. A little chip on his shoulder. You don’t have to be from Southie to understand revenge hiring.

Zim had value. He still loved baseball. And Boston hadn’t exactly sent him out with a gift basket.
So when Joe Torre called, Zim answered. And just like that, the ghost of Fenway joined the Empire.

The Brawl Heard Round the World
It all came to a head during the 2003 ALCS. Pedro was throwing heat and chin music. To add to the Greek tragedy, so was former Red Sox legendary pitcher Roger Clemens—now, also in pinstripes. The benches cleared. Zimmer--then 72 years old—charged the mound like he was auditioning for a role in Gladiator. Pedro, in a moment that will live in Boston highlight reels forever, sidestepped and placed the old man face down on the Fenway infield grass.

No punches. No real harm. But all the emotional damage you could ever need.
It was the ultimate Boston soap opera, immortalized in memes, replays, and the hushed horror of fans everywhere. And let’s be honest: Zimmer probably regretted the whole thing the moment gravity took over.

The Legacy?
Today, Zimmer’s story is a warning.

• About loyalty.
• About pride.
• About what happens when your old team turns its back on you—and you end up wearing enemy colors in front of the people who used to cheer your name.

Zimmer didn’t just leave Boston. Boston left him. And that choice—to chase relevance in enemy colors—turned into a cautionary tale that still haunts the Fenway faithful.

So what’s the connection to modern politics?
It’s simple: If we let loyalty be bought, we end up with icons in enemy uniforms, flailing in confusion.
Just like Zimmer.

Want to understand how power, influence, and betrayal play out off the field?
Read: Elon’s Buying a Political Party. Paul Revere’s Spinning in His Grave.
You’ll see the same themes—just with fewer helmets and more Super PACs.

​











​The move to gut Medicaid, Medicare, and social services in President Donald Trump's "Big Beautiful Bill", (or "big ugly mega-bill" as some see it) isn’t just about economics. And it’s not even primarily about wealth redistribution. From where I'm sitting just north of the pike and south of the NH seacoast, is it’s about power assertion and identity reinforcement.

In other words, this isn’t a matter of dollars and cents. It’s a matter of dominance. Such as the Sox demonstrated over the Yankees in 2004.

Here's Why it's Not About Budgeting:
If it were about balancing the budget, we’d see real, strategic deficit reduction efforts. Instead, we see increased defense spending and corporate tax breaks—moves that contradict any true concern for fiscal health.

Here's Also Why it's Not About Helping the Rich:
Sure, wealthy Americans benefit from tax breaks, but many of them neither need nor actively request more. This isn’t a "feed the rich" scheme—it’s a symbolic act. A flex of authority.

A Note of Reflection About Dominance and Identity:
This movement is rooted in resentment. It’s about putting "the other side"—liberals, academics, bureaucrats, activists—on notice. Slashing social programs becomes a form of cultural revenge. Less a policy, more a performance.

Culture War by Proxy:
Defunding healthcare and welfare is how this faction strikes at the soul of progressive values—compassion, inclusion, shared responsibility—while hiding behind the veil of “fiscal conservatism.”

Ego at the Wheel:
The real fuel here is ego: a burning desire to restore a sense of lost control, pride, and self-identity. The “anti-woke” rhetoric is less about real governance and more about reaffirming how far an elected narcissistic dickhead is willing to go to demonstrate their ability to dominate by bending the rules. 

Conclusion:
In this light, the bill isn’t a budget. It’s a battle flag. It’s less about saving money—and more about making a point. And that point is: 'We' decide who deserves what. And that should scare you--a lot.