HENCH’S HARDBALL: Opinions expressed in Hardball are not necessarily those of Boston Dirt Dogs, Big Dog, or our sponsors:

Date: Friday, August 24, 2001
From: Kevin Hench
Subject:  G. Edes:  He Brings Good Things To Life

Everyone should get to be a rock star for one day.
  And last night, almost certainly unbeknownst to him, was Gordon Edes'
moment in the flickering strobe light.   Sure, the National Sports Bar and
Grill in Anaheim ain't exactly the Hyatt (aka The Riot) on Sunset Blvd., but
for our little coterie of starstruck groupies it would have to do.  Gordo was
Steven Tyler and we - Rathbone, Jamie, Tom, Phil from Glendale, and yours
truly - were reduced to so many fawning Bebe Buells.  It should be noted that
our late-night assignation stood no chance of producing anything as beautiful
as Liv Tyler.  But it did produce a lively confab on all things Red Sox as we
leaned on Gordo's every utterance.
  Can you imagine a better scene?  Soaking in the euphoria of a comeback win
and several pints of Sam Adams, we made our way over to the National, where we'd
heard the Boston Globe's ace correspondent would be making an appearance after
filing his game story.  The bar was jammed with buoyant Sox fans, infused with
newfound belief in their Townies.  There were no tables left inside so we ended up
setting up shop on the patio to watch and wait for The Man.  Rathbone spotted two
guys walking in that looked like they might be sportswriters (paint your own picture),
but our shouts of "Gordo!" were ignored as they disappeared into the bar.  Minutes later,
however, those same two guys emerged onto the patio, came over to our table and asked
if we were from Boston.  Well, we were decked out in Red Sox hats, jackets, Dirt Dog
t-shirts and an El Guapo shirt.  You can't slip anything past these sportswriters. 
To our "Who are you, Hercule Poirot?" attitude, he said, "I'm Gordon Edes."
  Gordon Edes!  Not only has this guy stood toe-to-toe with Carl Everett and
followed a just-fired Jimy Williams onto a Tampa-bound plane, but he also got
the quote that spawned Dirt Dog Nation. Gordon Edes!
  After getting over his initial terror at our irrational exuberance, Gordo 
- and his buddy Dave from the Hartford Courant - sat down and engaged us in
two solid hours of Sox talk.  Everyone learned a lot.  Especially Edes.
  A Jimy apologist to the bitter end, we had to set him straight on that
front.  And both Gordon and Dave were surprised to hear about Dante
Bichette's 213-point disparity in slugging percentage between Coors Field and
everywhere else.  Neither could make an argument for which of the five tools
Jose Offerman possesses. 
  We argued, agreed, agreed to disagree, disagreed to varying degrees and
were in complete agreement when it came to ordering another round.  Sadly,
the New England vibe took a hit when the bar ran out of Sam Adams and we were
forced to shift to Bass Ale. 
  Sportswriters have to deal with a lot.  But they don't have a heck of a lot
of experience with idolatry.  Gordon Edes handled it with aplomb.  He's the
kind of guy a publisher would want representing his newspaper.  He makes the
ink-stained wretches seem a little less wretched.  The anti-Shaughnessy, if
you will. 
  How anyone who has to deal with the Sox menagerie of crybabies and
backstabbers on a daily basis can maintain such a classy, generous spirit is
completely amazing.
  Gordon Edes.  GE.  He brings good things to life.