Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Laissez Faire

Restaurant friend Rob checked in with this mid-afternoon e-mail report:

"mark bellhorn just had lunch in the restaurant....... he looked shook......"

The restaurant in question is Marseilles, a lovely casual fine dining French joint in Manhattan's Theatre District. I immediately called for more details into this explosive situation of a Red Sock daring to eat food prepared by New Yorkers outside the team hotel in the hours leading up to Game 7.

"He ain't making any plays today, don't worry. Mysterious food illness," Rob said.

Settle down Board of Health and neurotic readers, he was joking, because as Rob said, "I don't want to win like that."

He's such a good-natured fan, at least on the business side of things. He's hands off when it comes to torturing Red Sox-turned-customers. Damn laissez-faire government! Me, I would have spit in his food then undercooked it, followed by a drugging of his beverages. But maybe that's why I'm not in the food business.

Onto the second part of Rob's report: "he looked shook." A weary Bellhorn is a good Bellhorn for New Yorkers. Even if he only has about 4 hits this entire postseason, one of those was a three-run homer in Game 6, the hit that forced this perilous Game 7. (Normally, I'd root for a guy who wears a double-flapped helmet, but he's a Red Sock with Cub tendencies, and these are the playoffs).

Here's hoping Bellhorn ordered a French dish with heavy cream sauce!