[Today’s guest poster is Jeremy Sharrard, a native of Springfield, Massachusetts and a longtime Red Sox fanatic. Some years ago, in a burst of ill-considered Sox-thusiasm, Sharrard created Stathounds.com, which promised to grow into the definitive Red Sox fan-site. Alas, as you’ll note if you visit Stathounds, it’s basically a picture of some of Jeremy’s friends with drinks in their hands. Maybe they were watching the Sox, but probably not. Kind of sad, actually. Maybe we can consider this post a kind of minor redemption.]
I am a big baseball fan, and a big Red Sox fan. Having never played organized baseball, I am pretty weak on the mechanics of the game. I can’t really tell the difference between pitches or diagnose things like when hitters are exploding their hips too soon. Instead, I focus my energies on analyzing the interpersonal dynamics of the team – checking to see who sits next to one another in the dugout, how players celebrate after games, who sticks up for who in interviews. For a large number of reasons, David Ortiz (or Big Papi as he is aptly and wonderfully nicknamed) has emerged as a central figure in my thinking about and love of the Red Sox.
This isn’t a particularly controversial stance for a Red Sox fan. Ortiz hits an absurd number of game winning homers, and he’s incredibly compelling personality who’s adored by Sox fans and even by the generally hyper-critical Boston sports media.
My love for Big Papi, however, is fueled by his other contributions to the Red Sox:
1) His ability to bring the Sox locker room together. As I understand it, major league baseball locker rooms are among the more divided in sports. With most teams having a diverse mix of players (Latin, African-American, White, Born Again) there is little communication, particular between Latin players and the rest of the team — given both the language and cultural barriers that exist. And by all accounts, David Ortiz does not allow this to happen for the Sox. Everyone loves him, he talks to everyone, and even if all 25 guys on the Sox roster aren’t going out for beers and chimichangas together after games, it does seem like in general the team gets along really well. I attribute much of this to Ortiz.
2) Big Papi’s Big Hugs. A couple years ago, Ortiz introduced hugging to the Sox. After a homerun or strong pitching performance, a Sox teammate could expect to get wrapped up in the loving embrace of Big Papi. Novel at first, and commented on by Sox broadcasters (“In my day we shook hands after a homerun. I still don’t know what to think about all of this hugging”) the hugging has become business as usual for the Sox. And an institution I love. In fact, as a somewhat regular Sox watcher, I believe that Ortiz’s hugs have become more nuanced. This year, I have seen the “You just broke out of a slump” hug, the “maybe you don’t want it, but after that homer you are going to get a hug hug”, an involved hug that incorporates bowing with new Japanese pitcher Daisuke Matsuzaka, and a “Hey rookie – welcome to the show” hug. Some examples can be found here, here, and here. Big Papi even hugs his opponents. Recently, after Ortiz was tagged out by an opponent’s second baseman, Ortiz wrapped him up in a Big Papi embrace.
And while my enjoyment of spotting and naming different Big Papi hugs has become something of a joke to me and an enjoyable diversion in a long baseball season, I think that I would like to believe that there is something deeper going on. I would like to believe that these hugs are a way for men to communicate their affection for one another, and most optimistically to believe that this hugging between men is a small first step on the way to professional ballplayers accepting a gay teammate in their midst.
Unfortunately, this second hope is probably not the case at all. As I understand it, baseball clubhouses are pretty homophobic places. And Latin ballplayers have historically represented an even more homophobic segment of a pretty gay hating realm. In fact, one of Ortiz’s best friends on the Sox team, Julian Tavarez, was quoted after a game in San Francisco several years ago as saying, “Why should I care about the fans? They’re a bunch of assholes and faggots here.” So it’s pretty clear that ballplayers can hug one another and be homophobic at the same time. And we can probably assume that this hugging has little to do with tolerance.
So what else can I make of this hugging? Is it simply the evolution of a high five that isn’t really worth further speculation? Overall, men are hugging one another more now than in years previous, even doing so in an almost aggressively masculine manner. HBO’s “Entourage” captured this well in a scene a couple years ago involving a couple alpha males talking through how to handle a tough situation, culminating in Jeremy Piven’s over the top agent character commanding another man to give him a hug, saying “Let’s hug it out, bitch.”
So maybe this Sox hugging just reflects a new greeting style that is a natural extension of fist pounding, high fives, and forearm bashing. Or maybe it’s a step towards vulnerability for big men. Maybe these hugs communicate an expression of support and affection in a way that men at large haven’t previously been able to communicate with one another. I would like to think that even if there is no thought that goes into the hows and whys of these hugs between ballplayers, they are a hopeful sign and a good thing for the relationships between men in baseball and men in general. Hugs are inherently tender, and embracing another shows vulnerability. Hugs demonstrate affection and support in a way that handshakes and forearm bashes and fist bumps never can or will. And I think that their prevalence is only a good thing for men who have long struggled for outlets to communicate these things to their fellow men. So thank you, David Ortiz, for both your long homeruns and your tender embraces. I thank you and salute you.
UPDATE: video of Big Papi quasi-autistically petting one of his teammates
