Life on the East Coast . . . .

Jane Sings. We Listen.

Mon, 10 Jan 2011 20:20:50 -0500

Trying to find the correct adjective to describe Jane Monheit's vocal talent is like trying to finds words to describe the most perfect moment you've ever had in your life. Smooth, silky, luscious, powerful, dramatic, soul-stirring, haunting, the list goes on and on.

And trying to avoid all the cliches that articulate female jazz singers is an exercise in futility. Chanteuse? Most definitely. Sophisticated? Check. Bawdy? Most assuredly, but not in a distasteful way. Worldly? She's recorded and toured for a decade, and played every form of venue from intimate jazz club concert hall. She's performed with any combination of instrumentalists, from solo piano and jazz trio, to brassy big bands and full orchestras, and she's recorded with a variety of singers and instrumentalists from Michael Buble to violinist/fiddler Mark O'Connor.

The Long Island native also claims her own Wikipedia entry, bunches of You Tube pings, and enough Google image tags to rival Sarah Brightman or Shakira.

She's got the chops, and the experience, to wrap the crowd around her finger, and dutifully proved that with a 90-minute set at Boston's venerable Sculler's Jazz Club.

Performing there "for about the millionth time," she said, Monheit drew her playlist from her recently recorded album, Home, her first self-produced album. This particular set of songs garnered from the great American songbook featured tunes a bit off the beaten track, but performed with masterful interpretation and passion. Her set included her "hit" standards including Cheek to Cheek, bossa-nova classic Waters of March, and her signature chanteuse standard, Somewhere over the Rainbow.

Now a veteran of more than a decade of road and recording gigs, mother of a two year-old, and wife to her band's drummer, Monheit has the life experience to ad-lib and riff during her between-song patter with the same skill in which she interprets her standard songs. She dutifully dispatched a fan that constantly requested a tune she not on her current playlist, hilariously described an over dressed woman on a recent predawn cross country flight, and talked about songs she wouldn't do a decade ago because she felt she was too young and inexperienced at the time to be singing them.

The crowd at Sculler's sat with rapt attention. Monheit sang high and low notes with pinpoint accuracy, and showed a dynamic range from room-filling fortes to barely-there pianos, some so soft that she was nearly drowned out by the room's HVAC system.

Regardless, on this chilly evening Jane Monheit warmed the hearts of cold Bostonians, many who will gladly return when she performs at Sculler's for the for the millionth-and-one time.

Basia - Music for a Sunday Afternoon

Sun, 7 Nov 2010 22:27:34 -0500

It may sound odd to the average person, a singer of east European descent gaining worldwide acclaim singing Brazilian sambas and boss novas, but sing them she does, and possibly in ways that no one else can.

The singer is Basia, and truth be told, everything she sings can be considered a masterpiece.

Known mostly for her original songs written in Brazilian style, the Polish-born singer songwriter posses a remarkable set of pipes, and a masterful knack for vocal arrangements that make her recordings and live performances practically orgasmic. And on November 7, fans in Boston trekked their way to Sculler's Jazz Club for a powerhouse Sunday afternoon two-hour set, which included time-honored Basia favorites including Time and Tide, Cruising for a Bruising, and Baby, Your Mine.

Music enthusiasts who find the time to study Basia's recordings will not only find a plethora of contemporary styles among her discography, (she's just as comfortable singing against swing, rock, or funk beats) but also be astounded by the musicianship displayed by the vocal interplay between Basia and her background singers. With other artists, this part of the tapestry is usually the first casualty of budget-conscious record company execs once tour time rolls around. With Basia however, background singers are a necessary part of the touring roster, and they stand at the front of the stage with her. The happy result? A live performance that practically duplicates recorded sessions, note for note.

For this performance, Basia was backed by a four-piece band including long-time collaborator Danny White on keyboards. The ensemble equalled its leader in essence of style, setting the table masterfully for whatever genre Basia was performing. She pointed out that each player was a composer and recording artist themselves, and graciously gave each of them more than a few moments to shine.

In the end, you could argue that this performance lived up to the tired cliche that the whole was greater than the sum of its (pretty damn good) parts, but instead, I'll opine that putting these particular parts together gives you a whole that was simply masterful.

Mark Antoine takes "Smooth" one step further

Thu, 20 May 2010 00:59:33 -0400

In all the years I’ve played music, I’ve never quite known how to answer the question “what’s your favorite instrument?” Thanks to dabbling in so many different instruments, I was always torn in my allegiance. The sax was great because of its many moods and voices, the flute gave me a legitimate spot in classical and chamber settings while providing excellent repertoire, bass allowed me to explore the soulful creative side of my musicality.

And then, there was the guitar. For twenty years I tried to master this versatile instrument, settling instead for a level of mediocrity that eventually forced me to give the instrument up. I’m probably the worst guitar player that ever made a few bucks playing the damned thing.

Fortunately, for smooth jazz guitarist Marc Antoine, this dilemma has never occurred. His website states he received a guitar at the age of 11, “which quickly became his third arm.” Now, after nearly 30 years in the business, and studio time with some of the biggest names in pop music, Antoine’s “third arm” is producing chart-topping melodies synonymous with the “smooth” or “contemporary” jazz monikers. And on this raw spring evening Antoine teamed up with keyboardist Brian Simpson for a 90-minute set of smooth jazz awesomeness.

Smooth redefined
One thing I’ve learned in my two visits to the landmark Boston jazz club, when these smooth jazz artists hit the live stage, they are anything but mellow. Antoine’s performance of his own “Sunland” transformed the popular recorded version of this song to a funky driving riff, complete with splashy drum-set punctuated codas that sent the Sculler’s crowd into a frenzy. (Sunland was produced in 1998 and still maintains a position on most smooth-jazz radio station playlists.)

Simpson’s own melodies also took on new life, with the pounding rhythm section adding pulse and direction that belies his music’s “Weather Channel” easiness. The set mostly showcased Simpson’s tunes, with Antoine’s nylon-string guitar adding appropriate color and voice. Antoine’s cover of the 60’s classic Spooky showcased all four musicians, and Antoine twice took over the stage for typical guitar-god type solos required at any guitar-centric concert. As expected, both stretches of finger-flying mastery set the tone for the intro riff of a familiar melody.

Along with Sunland and Spooky, other Antoine features included the crowd-pleasing Funky Picante, Hi-Lo Split, and one other song I recognized, but did not know the name.

Coda
As always, a nightcap is a perfect way to end an evening of music, as both a performer or listener. While having a cocktail at the bar and watching the Lakers manhandle the Suns, I heard behind me a gentleman with a slight French accent order a glass of Chardonnay. “What are the chances,” I thought to myself, “that Marc Antoine is standing behind me?”

Sure enough, there he was, with a big grin on his face. Several other patrons recognized him, and he graciously posed for pictures with all.

Tales from the Balcony

Thu, 18 Mar 2010 20:06:26 -0400

I usually like to use this space to practice my “review” writing skills - basically act like a reviewer for the latest concert, opera, or art exhibit that I attended. But the antics going on in the balcony during last night’s visit to the Boston Lyric Opera (BLO) at the Shubert Theater were so bizarre, that I must address them detail, at least to get a good chuckle when I read this years from now.

On Stage
Before detailing the oddball acts that occurred in the balcony, I’ll give the production, Strauss’ opera-within-an-opera Ariadne auf Naxos, its due. The program featured a solid set of American singers, including powerhouse musical execution in the second act by the male and female leads. The highlight of the show however, was the sparkling performance of one of the genre’s most difficult arias by coloratura soprano Rachele Gilmore. With clarity and world-class vocal agility, Gilmore pulled off her character’s second-act aria as if it were child’s play. Savvy Internet-surfing opera fans will do themselves well to search Gilmore on You Tube, where another production of this aria can be found. It’s a real treat.

Drama in the cheap seats
Despite the drama on stage, a spectacle of a different sort was playing out in the balcony section of the theater.

Having attended more than a dozen operas at the Shubert over the last decade, I can say that I am an avowed fan of its balcony. Even in the uppermost rows (where I usually sit), voices are crystal clear, and the full front-to-rear stage views offer depth-of-field that audience members sitting at lower levels can not enjoy. The balcony’s only downfall? The seats are crammed together like sardines.

The chatterer-mentorer
After settling in to our seats, a college-aged female made her way in and took her seat in the row above us next to a more “mature” female opera fan. The college-aged coed mentioned that it was her first opera, and that she was attending as requirement for a class.

For the next thirty minutes, we endured the mature opera fan’s life history, as she sought to mentor her new young friend on the finer points of Strauss and his music. Along the way we learned how the mature opera fan was a retired art teacher who as a child was forced by her parents to go to “symphony” on Thursday nights, where she promptly fell asleep shortly after the program began.

We learned how the mature opera fan had “rediscovered” her love of music since her retirement from teaching, and how she loves to attend the pre-opera lectures sponsored by the BLO prior to every performance. She also expounded on how she had such a busy day, and wasn’t able to make it home to drop off her books and get a decent pair of shoes to wear to the performance. That is why the mature opera fan had a book in her lap and was making notes.

The dialogue went on and on, and was so consuming, that my companion and I did not speak one word to each other the whole time prior to curtain.

The usher from hell
It’s a time honored tradition in the balcony (and elsewhere, I imagine) that patrons move forward to better seats just prior to the curtain rising. On this particular evening, the balcony was not even 25% full, so patrons felt especially emboldened to move forward.

Well, one of the ushers working the balcony would have none of it. From his perch near the balcony entrance he yelled in stern voice that “moving forward was not permitted.” At least five times under his watchful eye, he caught patrons moving forward, and promptly called them out in a loud voice. One couple was rebuked three times, while another couple was yelled at from across the seating section. The usher’s passion for proper patron seating was commendable, but quickly became uncomfortable as the minutes ticked by.

Thankfully, the performance (finally!) commenced, ending this mini-drama. The lights dimmed, the patrons happily moved forward (including mature opera fan and her new protoge sitting behind us), and the curtain rose. Not another word was said.

Opera Emo-man
Classical music and opera fans can be passionate about their music. And sometimes that passion manifests itself with a spontaneous physical outbreak of air-conducting, think air-guitar for orchestra, or head movement and hand- and arm-waving that physically expresses emotion at stirringly powerful moments in the music.

While this sort of expression is acceptable in one’s private listening environment, theater decorum and respect for fellow patrons dictates that such displays be held in check at live performances. After all, only one person in the entire building should conduct the orchestra, and frankly, the singers on stage are being paid enough to emote for all of us.

On this evening, a particular balcony patron must have decided that the preponderance of empty seats allowed him license to emote. He was sitting in the same section as I, below and to the right. Within the first few moments of the second act he moved to the left-aisle seat of the same section, a few rows directly in front of me. Normally this would not bother me, except that this gentleman was of considerable size (well over six feet tall) and his movement caused a few patrons behind him to quickly reseat themselves.

It was all for naught though, as the considerably sized gentleman moved again, this time to the nearly empty seating section to our left. He promptly made himself comfortable by placing his legs and feet over the empty seats in front of him, leaned back in his seat, and began to thoroughly enjoy the performance. With no one to bother, Opera Emo-man’s head was soon bobbing, arms and hands flying through the air, his body was writhing in its seat with near orgasmic delight.

It all would have been fine, except that there were two women who, for some inexplicable reason, were sitting in the furthest left two seats of the top row of the nearly-empty section. They were none-to-pleased that Opera Emo-man had taken residence a few rows in front of them, and had assumed the space as his own little emo-driven world.

Opera Emo-man must have been aware of the women’s presence. Several times he turned to see if they were present, one time waving franticly at them. Near the end of the performance, he actually got out of his seat, faced them, and waved his arms in anger, as if had been cut-off on the Southeast Expressway. I glanced up at the corner, and noticed the two women had vacated their seats.

Postlouge
The distractions of this particular evening did nothing to dissuade me from attending an opera again. I enjoy hearing well-played music, and voices in the Shubert are always clear and vibrant. The cast for this production was particularly strong.

Why such an additional cast of characters was assembled in the balcony on this evening, I’ll never know. I will remember the strong cast of singers that led this show, but now I’ll always remember the additional drama occurring in the balcony.

Strauss Sunday in Boston

Mon, 22 Feb 2010 00:46:59 -0500

Pity the musical Strauss family. Much of their most beautiful and popular music is relegated to an orchestra’s “pops” concert, usually a summer concert performed outdoors and free of charge to a picnic and mobile-phone distracted public.

Once a year, the Strauss repertoire achieves respectability in the form of an annual New Year’s Concert by the celebrated orchestra of the Vienna State Opera. The concerts, a regular New Years Day evening feature on PBS, include ballet and equestrian segments, and is hosted by iconic cultural figures such as Walter Cronkite or Julie Andrews.

The Boston Symphony Orchestra recently dedicated a winter Sunday afternoon concert to the works of the German musical family. In his program notes, Maestro James Levine acknowledged that these compositions deserved far more respect than they often receive, and compared this performance to the raucous holiday performances in Vienna.

Levine, obviously suffering from several ailments, conducted the concert with much enthusiasm and joy, his flailing appendages sparking aggressive technique from the ensemble, while still coaxing enough subtlety from the players to take great advantage of Symphony Hall’s world class acoustics.

The first half of the concert featured “Variations on Don Quixote,” written by Richard Strauss, with solo cello and viola representing the main characters. The tone poem is not a well-known part of the Strauss lexicon, but nevertheless features a full range of dynamics, tones, and textures, including stormy brass, and reedy sunrise portraits.

The soloists performed as expected, and the Sunday afternoon crowd responded with a seven-minute ovation.

The second half opened with Die Flidermaus, perhaps the most famous Strauss composition not named Blue Danube. The crowd response echoed the fire of the performance, setting the tone for an assortment of five more polkas and waltzes, including Roses from the South. With a nod toward the famous New Year’s broadcast, the crowd dutifully clapped in time when the BSO broke into the famous Radetsky March, to which the normally staid Maestro Levine faced the audience with a big smile and began conducting.

Shades of Vienna, in Boston.

Rockin’ Smooth Jazz with “The Rippingtons”

Sat, 21 Nov 2009 23:22:14 -0500

A little over twenty years ago, guitarist Russ Freeman broke on to the Jazz/Fusion music scene with his band The Rippingtons. Three critically acclaimed, and commercially successful, albums between 1986 and 1989 set him on a course of musical destiny, as those recordings represented the very beginning of the genre we now define as “smooth jazz.”

Today, more than two decades later, his melodies have stood the test of time, and a list of Rippington alumni reads like a “Who’s Who” of the genre; Kenny G, David Benoit, and Dave Koz, just to name a few. Through it all, Freeman has remained a staple, defining the genre through its infancy, helping to guide it through to legitimacy and commercial success.

Freeman and his current lineup’s latest release, Modern Art, continues that tradition. The catchy melodies soar over lush harmonies and driving beats, an eclectic mix of acoustic and electric guitar, and sugary sax licks. This collection of songs serves as a textbook definition of the genre.

Bearing the cross of "smooth"
Devotees of smooth jazz are a tortured lot. Our music is aesthetically pleasing, and heard by millions of people daily, thanks to various Internet streams, The Weather Channel, and elevators everywhere. That notoriety comes at great cost, however. Old school jazz aficionados despise the synthesized sound of the music, as well as its commercial success, while those connected with the mainstream pop music world hear smooth jazz as nothing more than background or mood music.

Indeed, while listening to The Ripps at work the other day a 20-something female co-worker commented she felt like she was (no surprise here) on an elevator. After replying to her comment with an obligatory snarky comment about “Weather Channel music” I forced out an artificial laugh, but inside gritted my teeth at the young co-worker’s lack of musical sensitivity. I shouldn’t chide her though, she probably thought she was “relating” to the old guy because she recognized the music.

Smooth Jazz unleashed
All of this, of course, brings us to a recent performance by Russ and his crew at Boston's venerable Sculler’s Jazz Club. While one might think that the smooth jazz moniker would dictate a live performance on the mellow side, nothing could be further from the truth. The tame melodies take on a life of their own in a live context, the band feeding off the energy of the tightly packed crowd in the intimate Sculler's venue. The 90-minute set featured a mixture of Rippingtons standards, including Aspen and Caribbean Breeze, and new music, including the title track of their latest collection, Modern Art.

Smooth? Not really!
It's well known in music circles that a song recorded in the studio can often take on a life of its own once it hits live venues. One song in particular, Body Art, completely belied its recorded interpretation.

The tune is built around three 8-bar phrases. The third phrase, which could be considered this tune's hook, builds intensity over a thumping bass line. Harmonic resolution occurs in a splash of cymbals and drums leading to an open chorus for solos.

In its recorded version, Body Art is a pleasant slice of smooth jazz heaven, typical of something you'd hear while glancing at weather forecasts on the flatscreen. In the rockin’ environment of Sculler's Jazz Club, the tune took on a life of its own, with the hook phrase building over a supercharged flurry of bass and drum fill. Guitar and sax choruses, normally the reason d'être of any tune, were almost an afterthought.

While the body of their recorded work remains a staple of the smooth jazz idiom, The Rippingtons are a musical force to be reckoned with when experienced in a live setting. I’ll be sure to see them again the next time they are anywhere near Boston.

York Maine . . . . and rain

Sat, 11 Jul 2009 09:15:06 -0400

Three days off? In a row?? Whatever would I do with three days off in a row?

Day One
Monday dawned bright and sunny, a true rarity for this the wettest summer in recent memory. It looked like the clouds might invade, but alas, they held out for one complete 24-hour period. Which was good, because we had tickets for the Boston Lobsters.

The Lobsters are the Boston franchise for World Team Tennis (WTT), a league that plays every year in July. Most players in the league are ranked somewhere between 20th and 50th, and are experienced doubles players, while some have had moderate success in singles. If you go on certain nights, they might even add a big-name player to the roster. No big names were present on this evening, but that didn't diminish the excitement.

The Lobsters played host to the Kansas City Explorers, and all through the match both teams battled point for point. The doubles sets were particularly exciting as Lobster right-hander Raquel "The Hammer" Kops-Jones battled tough in both the mixed-doubles, womens doubles, and womens singles sets.

The match came down to the final set, mens singles, where Jan-Micheal Gambill needed one game to seal the victory. That winner never materialized, as Explorer Mike Russell fought back from three games down to win the match in a tie-break, 21-20.

For more pictures click here.

Day Two
Tuesday dawned just like every other morning for the last two months; dreary, overcast, with rain threatening at any time. The original plan was to take the bikes and do a mountain ride on Maine's Mt. Agementicus. A quick check of the forecast altered those plans immediately.

We decided to leave the bikes, but headed north anyways. First stop was Lisa's friend Nikki, who lives in a resort style home on a lake. We dropped off Bennie there to spend the night with his two new Schnauzer girlfriends, Willie and Asta. With Bennie all settled in, we headed east, for Maine, and the Yorks.

After a 40-minute drive, we found ourselves at the base of Mt Agamenticus, Southern Maine's most forested recreation area. As soon as we decided on a hike plan and looked down the trail, raindrops started falling. They fell harder, and harder, and before you could sing "Raindrops keep fallin' on my head," we were in a monsoon.

We instead drove up to the peak, where the clouds had rolled in, and visibility was about 30 feet. We read the information boards, tried to see the view (not happening), and felt proud of our five minute excursion up to the summit. While battling the rain and the rolling haze, we saw a porcupine, and decided to devote 10 minutes of video to its existence.

With the porcupine sufficiently documented, we headed down the access road to our final destination for the evening, the Katahdin Inn, in York, Maine.

When one thinks of Maine, certain images come to mind; rain, rain slickers, wooden adirondack chairs on well kept porches, rolling hills of green grass, happy dog-lovers walking their pooches regardless of the weather. We saw all of this in our first ten minutes in York, Maine.

The Katahdin Inn is an old-style "B&B" inn located just off Short Sands beach. From its porch, you can look across the beach, past the playground and bandstand, and see the downtown district with its old-style bowling arcade and "Fun-O-Rama." Downtown also includes several restaurants and clubs, as well as many family owned businesses that have served visitors for decades. The bright yellow moniker of "The Goldenrod" clearly beckoned us from across the way. They've sold homemade toffees and other confections for more than a century in their classic wooden luncheonette style building.

We did the obligatory tour of all these sites, but kept settling in the same spot, the deck chairs on the porch of the Katahdin Inn. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks and beach was almost cathartic, and wine and cheese added to the mellow tone of the evening.

Day Three

Yet another overcast dawn. Coffee on the veranda; a parade of runners, dog walkers and morning-wave worshipers accompanying our morning brew. A walk up to the lighthouse prematurely ended when the heavy mist bordered on medium to heavy rain . We retreated once again to the car, and drove to the lighthouse. It was clear that today's weather was going to match yesterday's, so we cried "uncle" and made plans to head home.

Wrigley Field on my iPhone

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 12:13:07 -0400

As a child growing up in Orange County, California, I would drift to sleep every summer night, listening to the dulcet tones of legendary Dodgers broadcaster, Vin Scully. My bedroom usually had some sort of desktop radio with two dials - one for tuning, one for volume. Those radios were so lo-tech, they didn't even have an auto-off feature. Each night my mother would come in to the room and turn it off before heading to bed herself.

A few nights ago, nearly two generations and a whole continent removed from my southern California bedroom, I again laid in my bed listening to the dulcet tones of Vin Scully painting the aural picture of actions by the LaLa-land nine. This time, however, I was also watching the action, streaming live on my iPhone.

You read that correctly - streaming live on my iPhone.

MLB.com recently began streaming live games over their At Bat iPhone application, just two games per day for now, but soon the whole daily schedule, and the entire post- season, according to the MLB.com Website. Users can now watch the full broadcast of their favorite team's games, live on their iPhones

You might be thinking "Yeah, I need the 3G or 3GS for that." Actually, not the case at all. I still have an original iPhone. I did apply the new 3.0 update, and purchased the latest version of the At Bat application, however.

And for all the grief pored over the Interwebs regarding AT&T's Edge Network, it performed admirably as I watched the Cubs against the White Sox from the mall food court.

Let me say THAT again. I was sitting in the mall food court, watching the Cubs and White Sox streaming live to my iPhone, while connected to the Edge Network. There is one caveat. The stream would stall about every two minutes, for about ten seconds. Not great, but much better than expected.

The actual progression from radio broadcast to iPhone stream has accelerated greatly over the last few years. Six years ago, having all MLB games available on a cable or satellite network's baseball package was thought to be pretty spiffy. A couple years later, the newly launched MLB.com offered radio streams of all MLB games for $14. Listening to Vin on the computer became a new nightly ritual for this New England resident.

Last season, I passed on the chance to watch video streams of games because of my aging computer. Thanks to this year's new MacBook, however, the 2009 season is unfolding in a separate window on my video screen, simultaneously, while surfing, blogging, IMing, and texting.

And now, the At Bat application brings live video streaming to the iPhone. How do you top that?

After 40 years, Vin has never sounded as good as he does through a set of iconic white iPhone/iPod earbuds. Broadband internet has made the whole slate of any sport's games available at very reasonable costs, through both the computer, and mobile devices.

It kind of makes you wonder how we are going to watch games ten years from now. Doesn't it?

The Bunny Run - 2009

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 20:46:15 -0400

On a cold, wet and raw Saturday in April, about 30 runners, walkers and well-wishers met on the streets of Jamestown, R.I. to participate in the first annual Bunny Run.

The 5K charity run was organized by the children of Lois “Bunny” Rodgers, as loving tribute to her decade long battle against cancer and Parkinson’s disease. Below is a quick video highlighting the events of the day.

BATTER UP!!!!!!!

Wed, 8 Apr 2009 00:36:19 -0400

After a disappointing finish to the 2008 season, and a well-documented and brutally long winter, all was right in the New England region as the baseball season began (albeit one day late) with a sound 5-3 defeat of the reigning American League champion Tampa Bay Rays, by the Boston Red Sox nine. The locals got solid performances from all of their starters, including a first inning grand salami from wunderkind AL MVP Dustin Pedroia. Third baseman Mike Lowell showed no effects from last year’s hip problems, as he lashed a wall-ball double propelling a three-run third inning. Jason Varitek’s 2008 batting woes appeared to be a thing of the past, as smashed a no-doubter past the Pesky Pole in right field for his first home run of the season.

Starting pitcher Josh Beckett, another 2008 injury case, tossed seven sterling innings allowing one run on two hits, while striking out 10 and allowing only three walks. The only note of concern for the Red Sox came in the eighth when Hideki Okajima came on in relief and immediately hit a batter and allowed a walk. With one out and two on, Manager Francona called on big Justin Masterson to put out the threat. The Rays countered by advancing runners to second and third on an uncontested double-steal, with both runners scoring moments later on a clean single. Masterson stopped the bleeding however, with a wicked strikeout to end the inning. Closing ace Jonathon Papelbon finished the game for his first save of the season.

All the Sox starters hit safely at least once, except for lead-off man Jacoby Ellsbury, and the Sox went down in order only two times, once in the fourth, and again in the eighth. While the bats showed no sign of winter rust, the pitching staff appeared in mid-season form as the four Sox moundsmen combined for 14 strikeouts while issuing only four walks.