“That really gets my goat!” Odd expression, isn’t it? According to my friend Mr. Google, this phrase has its roots in horse racing. Tradition has it that when a goat is placed in a horse stall before a race, it helps calm, or settle the horse down. Remove the goat? The horse gets feisty.
How about “Be sure to go the whole nine yards!” I heard a mother implore her 8 year old daughter at a local rec meet with these words at a track meet recently. Sure, we folks gathered around her knew what she was getting at, but why 9 yards? Why not 10? Or 100? Or 1?
This phrase originated during World War II, when pilots were provided with 9 yards of ammunition and instructed to use the whole 9 yards. In other words, be sure to finish the job.
I’m fairly confident I haven’t used either of these expressions recently, but I feel as though these two curious phrases pretty much sums-up my mood when it comes the recent version of our beloved Bosox.
As the season sputtered along, we Fenway faithful were confident that a turning of the page would commence at some point, which seemed to occur a few weeks ago when the Red Sox bashed the Yanks at Fenway. “Ah…finally! You’re awake! Let’s stop fooling around and do this, boys!” But alas, ‘twas not to be. The Sox slipped back to their normal form of inconsistency. Bad pitching one day, feeble hitting the next.
Man, that really gets my goat.
OK, I get it. Can’t grab the 1st place trophy every year. Let’s be thankful for the amazing-ness of last year. I can live with it. But there’s one thing that will make this season worse: if the Sox do not….go the whole nine yards.
I know it’s tempting Mr. Sale, but don’t let-up. The lefty’s temperament doesn’t seem to lend itself to relaxing, so I’m confident his competitive fire will continue to blaze.
What about Chavis? Bogaerts? Mookie? JBJ? Devers the Dynamo?
Show us what you’re made of fellas, and keep at it. Play hard, don’t let up. Some of us cheer for more than just the final score, some of us root for sportsmanship and competitiveness.
After all, if an 8 year old kid circling around the UMaine track on a blazing hot summer day in Maine can go the whole nine yards, surely you can too, right?