No, not the band, though they’re plenty annoying. Beantown’s baseball team, cheered by a nation of front-runners, annoys me about as much as anything.
The Red Sox provided some solace for those killed or injured in this year’s tragic marathon bombing, and that’s a good thing. But the team, and the city, wallowed in the tragedy, a “look at how empathetic I am” response embraced by Bostonians who seemed to believe they had taken a bigger hit than any city since Hiroshima.
Seventeen years ago, my hometown was touched by terrorism. Two people were killed and 111 injured after Eric Rudolph detonated three pipe bombs in Atlanta’s Centennial Olympic Park in the midst of the ’96 games. The city mourned, and moved on.
Not so with Boston (and I’m not talking about those directly affected by the bombings: victims, family, friends). Bill Maher put it best: “Your city was not leveled by Godzilla.”