Ode To Head Dirty Dawg

Dear Mr. Christopher Nixon,

You’ve been there in the clutch. You’ve been there during the ups, and you’ve certainly been there for the downs. You’ve been there when the team had come so close once again, and you’ve been there on the brinks of a World Series sweep. You were the one that spilled the water cooler in the Red Sox dugout after Booney’s home run. You were also the one that delivered three doubles in Game 4 of the Series. As a Sox follower, it gives me no greater pleasure to see you succeed.

Calling out A-Rod this winter was classic. Dynamite. Splendid. Perfect time, perfect quote, really sums up the guy very well, I must say. You and Tek are the original Dirt Dogs, the guys that are on the top step of the dugout when Blaine Neal gives up another grand slam, or on the top step when Edgar Renteria chokes with a runner in scoring position. When you cremated that Putz fastball last night, the joy spread around the Nation.

As a whole, we’d live to give you thanks for your competitiveness, heroism (yes, you read that correctly) and constant energy you bring to the team. You are the face of the franchise in many ways- starting with the dog poop helmet and ending with the crap we always seem to find on your baseball pants. Hustle is what you’re all about. You’re a gamer, Trot.

I probably would be cursing your ass off if you’d struck out in that situation last night, I’m not gonna lie. But things turned out for the better, and you gave us a needed victory. The Yanks are hot, but who cares. We know who will be there in the end, Trot. So whatever happens this season, we all know you’ll be trotting near Pesky’s Pole for years to come.

Right?

Sincerely,
Red Sox Nation