Now I get to really live the Red Sox life

This column is for all those people who can’t stand it when I ramble on and one about the Boston Red Sox in this spot.

I’m not sure how to say this without stealing a line from Ron Burgundy, but I’m kind of a big deal. I don’t, however, have any leather-bound books or a rich mahogany smell in my apartment.

As of last week, I am a contributing writer to the website

That is important for two reasons. One, I will no longer have to use this space to rant and rave about the Red Sox because I have a new forum to get that out of my system.

Instead, I can devote this space to important local topics, like wondering if anybody is going to apply for any of the coaching job openings at Butte High.

Or how Butte-Silver Bow could let a PGA professional like John DeWitt leave as manager of the municipal golf course without a fight?

Or if the Butte fireman who race up stairs during Scott Firefighter Stairclimb for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society will do the same to save a burning home of a “slumlord” who publicly blamed them for his building burning and stinking up the town for more than a week?

The safe bet is that they would because they are noble men. But who would blame them now if they decide to go in slow motion if that situation ever flares up?

The new gig at, which I will work on in my down time between following the Orediggers, Bulldogs and Maroons for, also means that I am obligated to watch as many Red Sox game as is humanly possible.

That’s the best part.

It means I have to watch more baseball discussions on the MLB Network and spend more time on the internet reading everything there is to read on the Red Sox.

It means I have to talk about the Red Sox more than Bob Green talks about Montana Tech.

Of course, I pretty much did that before I was welcomed to the staff of, a website that is, obviously, devoted to the team I have spent an unhealthy amount of my life obsessing over.

Now I get to do it guilt free and, hopefully, hassle free. It’s like when Norm Peterson got hired to taste beer.

It ended the argument with my wife about whether or not we are going to spend the $200 to buy baseball package on DirecTV.

It also means I will no longer have to argue with the kids about what’s on living room television when the Red Sox are playing.

So far it has worked out great. I even got to hog the TV all night on Friday when the Red Sox and Yankees played a 19-inning marathon. The wife and oldest daughter watched a movie together in the bedroom without even a slight protest.

It was like a dream come true. Before I would have been lucky to see three of those innings in peace.

I’m not sure how many people read each day, but the website has 149,000 Twitter followers and 75,000 Facebook followers. At least two out of our three kids understand that’s a pretty big deal for dad when a column or quick blog post he writes is distributed to that many people.

I will be writing for an audience of nutty Red Sox fans — a term that is borderline redundant — like myself. It is an audience I feel I know well, and one that will never complain when I go on and on about how Jacoby Ellsbury throws like a girl.

I mean that in the Sandlot sense, by the way. It’s not meant to be an insult at the members of the Butte High and Butte Central softball teams who throw the ball a lot harder than I do.

While this new adventure likely will not lead to a job writing column about the Red Sox for The Boston Globe, it certainly doesn’t kill that dream.

I have a few of “pieces” up on the site already. I made a case for sticking with Shane Victorino in right field, and I wrote about the day Bill Buckner showed he is a better man than most by throwing out the first pitch before the home opener at Fenway Park in 2008.

I wrote about Clay Buchholz being a bigger tease than a self-absorbed teenage girl.

The plan is to add a couple or three “pieces” each week, maybe more. It depends on the state of the Red Sox at the time.

Then I can save the topics for columns on for more pressing issues for readers in the Mining City. Like why did my generation turn out to be the worst sports parents in the history of mankind?

Or what it must have been like to watch Kentucky lose to Wisconsin after paying more than $18,000 for the unbeaten Wildcats in the March Madness Calcutta for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation.

Or whether or not John Fox can salvage the career of Jay Cutler with the Chicago Bears.

Now, if I can only get a gig writing for, everybody would be happy.

Then I’d be a really big deal.

— Bill Foley, who was sad to learn that there is no such site, writes a column that appears on on Tuesdays. Email him at Follow him at