One day, in my early years in the profession, a co-worker was talking about Carl Yastrzemski, who was in a horrible slump. It looked as if the end might be near for the future Hall of Famer.
“Oh well,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Sic transit gloria mundi.
Know what that means, Steve?” he asked.
“Nope,” I answered. So he decided to be wise.
“It means ‘Gloria got sick on the subway Monday,'” he smirked, looking to gauge my reaction. Lucky for me, I didn’t bite.
“It means,” he said, “thus passes the glory in the world.”
Or, “All fame is fleeting.”
You might recognize that as the last line from the movie “Patton.”
On the wall of my den is a poster proclaiming the years 2000-2010 as Boston’s “decade of dominance.” Actually, that extended to 2020, as the area celebrated three more Super Bowls, two more World Series championships, and one Stanley Cup.
My, how the tables have turned. The Patriots are in disarray and so are the Bruins. The Red Sox have been mediocre since their last championship with the owner averse to spending money (at least until this past winter). Only the Celtics, with a 2024 title, have kept our honor intact.
Sic transit gloria mundi.
We just began another baseball season with an annual ritual of overestimating the talent on the Red Sox. This has happened so often that my fallback position has become,
“Let’s just wait and see.”
The Patriots pick fourth in this year’s NFL draft, but could have had the top pick had they lost to the Buffalo Bills like they were supposed to. And the Bruins? They tore the whole team apart, and it looks as if it’ll be a few years before they contend again. This is only two years beyond their record-setting season.
None of this is unusual. Sports are cyclical. Normally, you build your team up to having a period of dominance, or at least contention, and then you fade to the middle of the pack (or worse) as your players age out or leave in free agency. It’s difficult to keep a team competitive – the way the Patriots did for almost 20 years.
One of the interesting byproducts of watching the Patriots tank the last few years is the reaction of their fans. People my age ought to remember the Rod Rust years (or, more accurately, year). That was an unmitigated disaster. The Patriots had brief periods of success and then frustrating years of futility.
But if you’re a Millennial or Gen Xer, your perspective might differ. The Patriots spent 20 years at the top, and then fell hard when it ended.
The Bruins have been all over the board since last winning the Cup in 2011, and even the Celtics had some lean years in between championships in 2008 and 2024.
It’s definitely tougher now to maintain consistent supremacy than it was 50 years ago. There’s free agency, salary caps, more injuries, more aging athletes, and greater transparency.
And all of the above virtually guarantee turnovers at the tops of each league. But God bless fans. They seem to act as if this is the first time it ever happened. The grousing during the past Patriots season was almost embarrassing. Poor Jerod Mayo. Talk about being set up to fail.
As for the Bruins, their upper management is inept and painfully behind the times. If the accent throughout the league is on speed, they go for brawn. Or vice versa. Whenever they lose in the playoffs, as they invariably will, it’s “they’re not tough enough,” as if an extra fight will win them the Stanley Cup.
How about “they’re just not good enough.”
The Red Sox are an enigma unto themselves. They willfully, and with malice aforethought, did a Babe Ruth redux and traded away Mookie Betts. It turned out wonderfully, didn’t it?
So far, they’re 1-4. That’s five games out of 162. There’s a line of fans waiting for the rope to be removed from the ledge of the Grand Canyon. Let the jumping commence.
Rafael Devers can’t make contact with the ball, let alone hit it. He’s getting hammered for it. All I can say is Trevor Story and Tristen Casas should hand over part of their salaries to Devers, because they’re off to their usual stellar starts at the plate, too — and it’s only Devers taking the heat.
The thing is we had plenty of glory for 20 years, with 13 championships spread out among the four teams. That’s unprecedented. But it’s over.
And we remember that last line from “Patton.”
“All fame is fleeting.”
Sic transit gloria mundi.
