I keep opening this thread, and then reading the comments and leaving without adding one. I'm really afraid that, even though Ortiz will never read it, my words will fail to convey all that he has meant over the last 13 years to me, and my friends, and the city. In that way, I am afraid that I won't do him justice, that I will let him down in a way that he never let me down. I should probably be embarrassed by the number of my strongest memories that revolve around him, or the fact that I got more choked up during his last ABs (or even just reading this thread) than I did when people close to me have passed on. Even now, just the idea that he won't be in the starting lineup on opening day 2017 doesn't seem right, and trying to force myself to confront that reality is putting a lump in my throat. I'm gonna miss the hell out of that guy.
I was home this past week taking care of my dad, who recently had a quadruple bypass. He can't really do anything, so I was making him dinner during the last game, alternating between the MLB.tv feed on my laptop in the kitchen and running into the other room whenever Ortiz came up. My dad always lived in New England, but was never a big sports fan, but even he was talking about how Ortiz was a legendary figure, and would be missed more than any other sports figure in his lifetime (he's in his 60s). He commuted into the city for most of Ortiz's career, and he spent a lot of time in line at the tolls over the years. He really believes that the way people act in traffic, and especially treat the toll takers (with all of whom he is on a first name basis), can tell you a lot about a person's character. So of course, one of his favorite things to tell people this week is about how he saw David Ortiz a few times, years ago, at the tolls when you get off the Pike to head into Cambridge. It really delighted him that Ortiz would a.) drive a car that was nice, but not flashy by any means (he thought it was an Oldsmobile or something), but more importantly would stop and make jokes with the toll takers, and sign autographs, and take pictures with them. He said that he saw Ortiz outside of the ballpark a handful of times over the years, and that every time he was kind, gracious and friendly, and not just with important people, but especially with normal people who the rest of society so often overlooks. My dad is a man with a general disdain for pro athletes, and the rich & famous in general, but he has always said that he thought Ortiz was a genuinely great guy, even though he didn't watch him play or know him personally. He's not a man who throws that kind of praise around lightly, and it has always struck me.
Everyone loves David Ortiz. It doesn't matter what you do, or who you are, or what team you root for (unless it's the Yankees, I guess). Everyone who has met him seems to have a story about a big hug or a big laugh. What he did on the field was amazing, but just a part of what made him a legend in Boston, and one that will be sorely missed if he steps out of the spotlight. I hope that he finds a way to keep being in my life once he has enjoyed a well-earned break, but until then, I will just have to satisfy myself by watching commercials that he is in on Youtube (just one more thing I should be embarrassed about doing), and trying not to cry remembering him while I sit in LAX...
Thanks for everything, David.
