by Sean Kane
When the going gets tough in the clubhouse at the Cell there’s a classic saying that circulates, “You gotta fight like a cat. Paws up.” At least that’s the catchphrase Ozzie dropped on reporter’s last Tuesday night after the Sox dropped the first of three to the world’s greatest Canadian ball-club (that’s exactly what they are these days. The Jays swept the Sox and were on a twelve game tear until they spent the weekend at Fenway.)
When reporters questioned the manager’s feelings on the recent injury to Carlos Quentin — the season ending, MVP-run-ending, please-control-your-temper-next-time bangup job he did on his hand in Cleveland — Ozzie replied with the only wisdom he had: “…Fight like a cat. Paws up.” The never-dull manager clearly summoned his immense respect for the fierce, always ready nature of cats and conveyed it in a fit of heartfelt emotion that would make any other manager look like a heartless robot. His squad would not lay down to some silly fear of not winning the Central, they would instead raise paws in an aggressive housecat motion to battle back from their recent woes.
