The Present Indicative, 21 April 2026
My Current Mood: MVPs
The platform remains free (and worth it) but in case you’re feeling philanthropic, I’ve set up a subscription page!
“Alright, Alright Boston. This jersey that we wear today, it doesn’t say Red Sox. It says Boston. We want to thank you, Mayor Menino, Governor Patrick, and the whole Police Department for the great job that they did this past week. This is our fucking city, and nobody gonna dictate our freedom. Stay strong. Thank you.” David Ortiz, Boston Strong Speech
Last week I saw a LinkedIn post about former Red Sox slugger Jim Rice, who helped save the life of a boy that took a foul ball to the head at Fenway Park. This was back in 1982. Prompted a lot of current comments and reactions. It’s nice when we can all appreciate the good deeds of our publicly gifted and talented.
And while not every athlete wants to be a role model (respect you, Chuck, both then and now) many of them provide their time and money–even just their personality–to build up rather than tear down.
Big Papi
Yesterday was the 130th running of the Boston Marathon. It happens every year on Patriots’ Day, which observes the Battles of Lexington and Concord, 251 years ago this past weekend. The year of anniversaries keeps commemorating, and I find it amazing/remarkable/unbelievable that dividing the 130th running by 10 we get the 13th anniversary of the Boston Marathon bombing.
The bombing took place April 15. Four days later the last suspect was arrested. My wife recently watched the Netflix doc from three years ago, and I recommend it if you’ve forgotten the novelty of fearfully sheltering in place before the world decided to scale the lifestyle during the pandemic. There were a lot of heroes that week, from emergency services to altruistic citizens. But it took the designated hitter and spiritual leader of the Red Sox to provide catharsis for Boston five days after the bombing in a speech shorter than the Gettysburg Address.
The news outlets did not censor Papi’s expletive on any channel and I won’t in transcript (see above). Everyone needs the weight of a four-letter word–a George Carlin word–sometimes. David Ortiz employed that weight to roaring applause like he cracked one out of the park. I thanked him at an autograph signing a few years later, and can even forgive him wearing Dallas Cowboys attire from head to toe.
Bam-Bam Cam
Cam Neely was a Bruin before I was a fan of the franchise. He retired a Bruin in 1996, a year later my Whalers abandoned Hartford, and I migrated to another Boston team to complete my set (Sox, Bs, Cs, more on that below). The year before he retired, Neely co-founded Comics Come Home with Denis Leary, the longest running comedy fundraiser in the US. It supports the Cam Neely Foundation, which provides resources for medical research and family lodging at Tufts Medical Center.
I spent a night at Tufts Floating Hospital for Children ten years ago when my son’s epilepsy went from bad to worse. His induced coma meant I had a lot of time to walk the halls and distract myself reading the framed stories of children given a chance after terrible odds. Cam’s foundation provided a bit of color, a little comfort, and a lot of context about our resilience. Our children’s resilience. Including my child, now 17 and counting.
The Iggles
I like football. I like it. But it’s not my sport. And I’ve enjoyed the Dynasty, but does it justify the scandals, the concussions, the conspiracy against Colin Kaepernick? Probably not.
Last year I found something that came close. The Eagles Autism Foundation has raised more than $50 million in eight years hosting the Eagles Autism Challenge, a run/walk and bike ride that provides 100% of donations as financial resources to the doctors and scientists at leading medical institutions who assist those at present and in the future affected by autism. Last year I wrote about participating, and I wrote about the experience. And if I weren’t hamstrung by a bad set of circumstances landing on Mother’s Day weekend this year, I would do it again. Charitable acts of heroism are not exclusive to our athletes but all of us. To build up rather than tear down. And as life is a marathon and not a sprint, you might not see me at this year’s Eagles Autism Challenge, but I’ll find another ride later in the year to mobilize TeamQUIRKY2 and the network of philanthropists willing to be resilient despite difficult financial times.
In the meanwhile, if you found some extra change in the couch and want to put it to good use. Let them know TeamQUIRKY2 sent you:
https://donate.eaglesautismfoundation.org/donations/new?event=772a444ceb60b5044aad
In Other News…
Moving from one pastime to another, stand-up comedy ranks among the few art forms that America can claim as native born. And as a business it is BOOMING. From Zoom rooms during COVID to arenas post pandemic, people want to gather and laugh. One of my favorite comedians is Dana Gould. As both a historian and story-teller in the subject, he sees one performance as the hallmark:
I always felt the finest example of, if a guy–a person came from outer space, and like, What is stand up comedy? The first Richard Pryor concert film, Richard Pryor Live in Concert, from 1979, that’s as good as this gets. That’s Charlie Parker, you know, that’s Miles Davis. This is what this thing is.
My friend and comedian Steph Dalwin, part of New Normal Comedy, helps me dissect the business of stand-up and draws a few analogies of her own in this week’s two-part episode of The Future Indicative!!
The Future Indicative, Ep 8 Part 1
The Future Indicative, Ep 8 Part 2
You can catch Steph and New Normal at the Boston AAPI Comedy Festival next month (May 21-23) at Rozzie Square Theater in Roslindale, Massachusetts. Here’s another link if you find more change in the couch:
https://www.rozziesquaretheater.com/aapi-comedy-festival
Cheers!
Alex Effgen




