I’ve never been shy about my unrelenting manlove for Kevin Millar, and I cling tenaciously to my dream that the guy will eventually return to Boston as a NESN talking head, base coach or Yawkey Way sausage vendor (and not in the Julian Tavarez sense, mind you).
Millar, meanwhile, has never been shy about his seemingly undying devotion to all things Red Sox, to the chagrin of Baltimore fans.
Alls I know is that whenever El Bencho’s in town, be it to throw out a first pitch at Fenway, take in a Celts playoff game or just play some pre-game grab-ass with his former Sox homies, it makes me think of my all-time favorite Millar moment:
During the first few games of the 2004 ALCS, when my entire world seemed to be crashing all around me in embers, I could always count on Millar for some goofy comment, wiseguy smile or booze-fueled rallying cry (who can forget the infamous, “They can’t let us win tonight!”). Turns out the guy really knew somethin’ all along.
