For all of my jabs about Drew and the fact that he seemingly has no feelings, I like him a lot. I don't really rank my favorite Sox players, after the obvious (Pedroia is number one in my book), but Drew would definitely be in the top half. I never really could have explained to anyone just why that is, short of citing the ridiculous production he had last June. Drew is as advertised, missing a significant amount of time due to injury in the last two years, but very consistent when he's on the field.
One of the reasons many Sox fans were slow to warm up to Drew is that he had the misfortune of replacing one of the most beloved right fielders in recent memory, Trot Nixon. Unlike Jason Bay, who replaced a petulant and whiny import who forced his way out of town, Drew replaced a homegrown dirt dog who was a fan favorite during his tenure in Boston, and lacked those traits that had made Trot so admired. Drew doesn't dive all over the field (the fact that he rarely needs to is often overlooked - he gets to almost everything), and he doesn't get visibly upset or excited, except in very rare circumstances.
Unlike a lot of other Sox fans, I have never been bothered by Drew's even-keeled approach; I figured that if it works for him, it works for me. My high school softball coach, on the other hand, (who has a dog named "Trot") didn't like Drew (or his attitude) from the very beginning. I never quite understood why we couldn't see eye to eye on the issue, until yesterday.
As many of you know, my sister got married yesterday, and I, of course, was a bridesmaid. The bridal party spent the morning getting primped and polished, and while $70 hairdos aren't usually my thing, I was enjoying myself somewhat. Everyone was chattering about how nervous they all were, but I assumed they were exaggerating to make the blushing bride feel like she wasn't alone in her anxiety. The complaints of nerves mounted, culminating in the five of us (the bride, maid of honor, and three bridesmaids) gathered in the back of the ceremony hall. I looked around, and my four companions looked absolutely green. One claimed she was going to be sick.
I didn't get it. I felt fine, even when I looked out and saw all of the people watching. That's when it clicked. I am JD Drew. Clearly, I don't have any feelings in big situations, either, and that must be why it never bothered me that Drew was so nonchalant. Thrilled with this realization, I shared it with the girls. None of them had any idea what I was talking about, not being baseball fans, but I was still thinking about it as I stepped out to walk down the aisle. Was there something wrong with me?
I decided that the emotionless feature could be a good one: with me, it allowed me to walk in front of a hundred plus people in unstable shoes without flinching, and it allows Drew to stare down ace pitchers in clutch situations in the playoffs like it was Fort Meyers in February. The moral is the story is this: it's not Drew's fault he has no feelings - it can happen to the best of us. For any holdouts still left, give JD a chance.