Fenway Park Will Never Be The Same Without Jerry Remy

Carrabis11/02/2021 2:27 PM

A lot of people are going to have a lot of things to say in the days following the passing of Jerry Remy. I wanted to read them all, and then I wanted to share my memories of one of the most beloved figures that Red Sox Nation has ever known.

There are so many stories, so many memories, so many years that Jerry shared with us both in the booth and personally. If you're a Red Sox fan, Jerry was family. The thing about baseball that I love so much is that it becomes a part of who you are. When you love your team and you're committed to watching 162 games a year, or even a fraction of that, it becomes a part of your life. This team, these players and most all, the voices in the broadcast booth become a part of your daily routine for half the year. Every single night, they're right there to be welcomed into your home. A lot of us have family, significant others, friends, etc. and we don't hear their voices in one year as much as we hear our favorite baseball broadcasters.

Jerry had a way of connecting with Red Sox fans on a level that is so hard to duplicate. He's from here, he played for the Boston Red Sox and then spent the remainder of his years in the NESN booth as the soundtrack to our summers. Folks who don't love baseball will deflect to the game being boring. Sure, the pace can be slow and with the uptick in strikeouts and homers, the lack of balls being put in play, it can all really put a damper on the action. We've also seen some pretty shitty teams over the years, which can make tuning in to watch nine innings a real chore.

But that was when Remy really shined, specifically in the years that he shared the booth with Don Orsillo. Red Sox are getting smoked 9-1 in the 7th? That's when things really got good. From dental procedures to flying pizzas, there was never a dull moment, regardless of what the score was or where the Red Sox were in the standings. What made Remy so endearing to fans across the world who love this team is that he brought the perfect blend of knowledge, passion, humor and insight to the broadcast. You could tell that he cared.

I've said this before, but it's worth repeating in regards to Remy's legacy. There's a place for objective, unbiased broadcasting. When there is a national game on, you don't want to feel like whoever is in the booth has it out for your team when there are no other viewing options for that particular game. When you're watching your favorite team on said team's regional broadcasting network, it's comforting to know that someone in the booth is just as excited when Big Papi homers as you are. The innings where Remy would randomly select to go full homer were always the best because he was echoing the same sentiments and the same hopeful words of encouragement to the players as you were on your couch. And you knew he meant it, too, because he was one of us.

I remember watching a part of CM Punk's documentary where Joey Mercury talked about how he had fallen on hard times and he was unable to prevent the foreclosure on his house. Punk wrote him a check and bought his house for him. Mercury went on to say that he didn't know if he was Punk's best friend, but that Punk was his. I thought of that when thinking back on the first time that I ever met Jerry.

When I was in high school, I was the class president. It wasn't because I was smart or particularly ambitious. It was because my friends put me on the ballot as a joke and I ended up winning. I was petrified of public speaking or social situations in general, so any time that I had to speak in front of my class, I had the VP do it. It was a huge fear of mine. I graduated in 2007 and that was the same year that the Red Sox held an election for President of Red Sox Nation. Again, it was another situation where I didn't exactly run, but that my name ended up on the ballot because I had launched my own Red Sox blog in 2006 and the readers wrote me in however many times it took to get the Red Sox's attention.

Once the contest had narrowed down to a top 10 list of candidates, they decided to have a debate which would be aired live on NESN and hosted by Tim Russert from NBC's Meet the Press. It was a whole fuckin' thing. I thought to myself, well it's been a fun ride but there's no way I'm doing that shit. After taking the time to think about it, I decided to just suck it up and give it a go. If I wanted to do this whole Red Sox thing for a living, this would be a great opportunity to get my name and face out there. So, I went. I remember getting into this green room area and saw all of the other candidates that were there. When Jerry walked in, it was a real holy shit moment for a lot of us, myself included. Everyone stopped what they were doing and the room gravitated towards him.

I introduced myself, said I was one of the candidates, and in a nervous word vomit, told him that I was petrified. He hadn't known me for more than 20 seconds and he told me that I had nothing to worry about, that we were going to have fun that day, and he was there to take the heat off of me if I was having a hard time up there. When we went out into the auditorium filled with people, I saw that my podium was on the end next to his and immediately felt relief. I went through with it, it was awesome, and it was my trial by fire experience of just getting out there and getting comfortable in front of a camera. He even took the time to come over to me during commercial breaks to see how I was holding up. That meant the world to me.

I know I wasn't an important person to him, but he became a very important person to me that day. Had it not been for his kindness, I don't think I would've had the courage to overcome my fear of having any sort of attention directed my way whatsoever. It was my first experience with that, and he was there to encourage me, support me and give me comfort. Had it not been for that day, I don't know if I still end up with the career that I'm fortunate enough to have today. That was really the first major stepping stone in all of this.

That postseason, in which Boston would go on to win the World Series, the Red Sox invited Jerry to throw out the first pitch before Game 1 of the Division Series against the Angels. It was then that they had announced that he had won the election and was officially the President of Red Sox Nation. We didn't need an election to know that, though. When you think of the Red Sox, you think of the Rem Dawg. He was the voice that all of us couldn't wait to hear again throughout the cold winter months in New England. When you heard Remy's voice, you knew it was time for Red Sox baseball.

I ended up going to Game 2 of the ALDS that October, the infamous Manny hands in the air walk-off homer game. After the game, I ran into Jerry and congratulated him on winning the election. The only thing that he said was, "Don't worry. I've got a position for you." That's when the Red Sox rolled out their governors program, which was basically when they appointed a fan from every state to be the Red Sox fan representative for every state in the country, first starting with just the New England states. I was lucky enough to get Massachusetts, all thanks to the Rem Dawg.

That winter was when I decided to write a book. It detailed the story of the Red Sox through my firsthand experiences of being there, and the Red Sox Nation Presidential run was a big part of that. Jerry and I kept in touch, as I continued to write blogs. My blog started out on MySpace, so I knew a thing or two about running a MySpace page, your basic HTML coding and dressing up a page to look nice. After getting to meet Jerry, I ended up designing his MySpace page for him and his team actually paid me for it. I still have a scanned copy of that check somewhere, because I considered it to be the first payday I had ever earned in my career. Even cooler that it was from Jerry Remy himself.

Anyways, so when I was putting the finishing touches on the book, I thought it would be so cool, while also giving the book a ton of credibility, if Jerry wrote the foreword. I didn't think he'd say yes, or perhaps I thought maybe he'd say yes but then not have the time to get to it. Not only did he say yes, but the finished product was something very sentimental that I'll get to keep forever.

I don't think I can put into words what a thrill it was to have someone who was so influential in my life cross over from a famous voice on TV to someone who took the time to help me out in my career. I'm one of probably hundreds of people who can say that, because that's just the kind of guy he was. He was a mentor to so many people. Those people included those in the broadcasting field to players on the baseball field itself to nobodies like me. He was just very, very kind.

I think that's why it broke my heart so much to learn about his depression in the later years of his life. When you're battling depression, it takes so much energy out of you just to get out of bed and do all of the normal things that we all have to do every day. So for him to still not only have the time but also the energy to give back to people reaching out to him, that is so admirable to me. Then you throw in cancer diagnosis after cancer diagnosis, and I don't know how he stayed so positive, how he kept fighting and how he kept a smile on his face, all while battling this awful disease for so many years. One of the last texts that he sent to me was, "I will fight." And he did. I never would've been able to deal with the hand that he was dealt at the end of his life in the manner in which he did. It truly speaks to his character.

During quarantine, we had to scramble to create content when there were no games being played. That's when I started playing rock, paper, scissors against MLB guys and I thought to call up an old friend to ask if he'd participate. The catch was, Jerry had never heard of rock, paper, scissors before. How that was possible, I will never know. But it was true. Not only had he never played before; he had never even heard of it before. That's like saying you had never heard of checkers or something. Regardless, I was happy to teach him, and we played.

Which led to Jerry having to explain on the broadcast that he had never heard of the game before, complete with a Barstool shout out.

I'm gonna miss Jerry Remy a lot. I'm gonna miss hearing his voice during Red Sox games. I'm gonna miss his ability to predict things on the field before they happen. I'm gonna miss his ability to make us all laugh during the lulls of the game and during times when maybe we, as fans, don't feel like laughing. I'm gonna miss his accidental FaceTime calls that turn into catch up conversations. I'm gonna miss seeing him around Fenway Park. I'm just gonna miss him.

Dennis Eckersley said it best when he said that Fenway will never be the same. And it won't. It simply won't. At the end of the day, that's really all we're hoping for in life, right? It's not about how much money you make, how many followers you have or any of that material bullshit. It's about the impact that you made on others, even the little people, but nobody was too little for Remy. Jerry made a huge impact on every single Red Sox fan who was fortunate enough to take in a ballgame with his voice as the soundtrack of our summer. And that will be his legacy. When we watch the Red Sox from now on, we will notice that he is not there. And that hurts a lot.

We're gonna miss you, Jerry. Rest easy, Pres.