Big Freddy had his face buried in his newspaper when I joined him, and I asked “What gives?”
“It’s not so much what gives as it’s who gives and what we take away from it that matters,” he said as he folded the paper and reached for his coffee.
“I take it you’ve been reading about the funerals for the Boston firefighters,” I said.
“That too,” Freddy said. “Who hasn’t? They walk into an inferno to do what they can, something goes haywire, life ends for both of them, and we’re reminded in the wrong way of what it means to be a firefighter.”
“Giving their all,” I said.
“Facing whatever and giving what they have to give to deal with it, which is not what I was thinking about.
“I was reading the sports section about the Red Sox, not the funerals,” Freddy said.
“There’s certainly no comparison,” I said.
“Well, maybe more than you’d be inclined to think,” Freddy said.
“They do whatever they can in both cases what they’re trained to do.
“I like what I see with the Sox, but I’m saddened along with everyone else for what happened to the firefighters.”
“The Sox winning two out of three from Baltimore?” I asked.
“Winning or losing it’s the heart of Boston I see,” Freddy said.
“The heart of Boston?” I asked.
“What about the other sports? What about the great universities, the hospitals, the arts?
“Besides, two years ago the Sox were in the pits.”
“And last year they climbed from the very bottom to the top,” Freddy said. “That was really something.
“Maybe that happened someplace else at some time or another, but I’m talking about the here and now.
“We needed a can do -- will do, and did -- especially after the bombing of our marathon,” Freddy said.