Whither the Truck?

I’ve been scouring the Internets this evening in an ill-fated attempt to answer what should be a very simple question. Has anyone heard from the truck upon its safe arrival in Ft. Myers? The truck departed Fenway yesterday around 10 a.m., this much we know. But what then? It should be there by now, nearly 36 hours later. I’d suggest that perhaps the driver is a lollyagagger, but such a designation simply does not fit his profile. I'm beginning to worry. I think we take safe passage for granted, forgetting that not so long ago the annual Massachusetts to Florida expedition was rife with peril. Survive the Yankee road agents, ford the mighty Potomac, tempt fate with a pass through the capital of the confederacy, avoid debilitating intoxication at popular juke joints. A gauntlet full of would-be plunderers and don't even get me started on the terrors of northern Florida.

Bryan: Wow, this has the makings of a scandal. Okay not really. But imaging a rivalry so intense that teams are f*cking with each other's trucks, like slashing the tires or putting in little tree fresheners that smell like Posada's jock. Or his hands.

Ben: You act like you don't remember why Butch Hobson was fired. Have you forgotten Truck Wars 1992-94? When the Red Sox and Yankees, finding their on-field products less than satisfactory, engaged in various other battles to keep the rivalry on life support. Surely you remember when aging slugger Jack Clark was hired to be Dan Dority to Hobson's Al Swearengen. In spring of '93 the Red Sox truck was looted by the Matt Nokes Seven and they were forced to play without bats, balls and cups for the first week of spring training while a second truck full of supplies made the treacherous journey south. And that's why Hobson was fired. Well, that and finishing no better than fourth place during his three year stint. And certainly the cocaine package didn't help his cause any. But it was mostly Truck Wars. Then the strike came, and with it an end to Truck Wars.

Bryan: The Matt Nokes seven. Me and... six other guys. I just remember the time we thought we saw Butch Hobson at the MVY airport. That's the gift that keeps on giving.

Ben: We saw Butch Hobson? Now you're just making stuff up.