Stay classy, Nomar. Stay classy.

By Chris Maza
Fan Fanatic Sports Staff

Ok, I will preface this blog with this. I despise Nomar Garciaparra. There are no two ways about it. Even when he was here, I knew what he was - a tremendously talented baseball player with a bad attitude and a chip on his shoulder for all the wrong reasons. He wore the red, white and blue of the Red Sox like it was a burden instead of a privilege. And while he has always insisted he loved the fans in Boston and he loved the team, he never did anything to actually show it, leaving his words resoundingly empty.

For all intents and purposes, the yesterday's ceremony to retire Jim Rice's number was amazing, a moment that will stay etched in my mind forever. I really feel truly blessed to have been there to witness it.

But there was a brief moment where I felt nothing but disgust and sure enough, Nomar Garciaparra was in the middle of it.

For those of you who missed it, let me break it down for you.

After a brief introduction, Rice was introduced to the Fenway Faithful and made his entrance from the overhead door in left field, appropriately, and to a rousing ovation walked down the third-base line towards home plate, passing the Oakland dugout on the way. There were several players stretching and prepping for the game and as Rice passed them, Nomar jumped out in front of him with arms extended as if to say, "Come on, big guy, gimme a hug!"

Rice hugged him, but Nomar didn't let go and actually started rocking back and forth in an awkward exchange that looked like a pair of pre-teen middle schoolers dancing together for the first time at the school social.

Does it seem like much? Maybe not. But it's still a case of Nomar trying to insert himself in someone else's spotlight.

I have no problem with Nomar appreciating Rice and wanting to congratulate him. But how many current and former Red Sox players appreciate Rice and have congratulated him? Probably more than a few. How many of them did it in public, uninvited? One. Nomar wanted everyone to see him congratulate Rice. It would have been one thing if Rice made a point to go over to Nomar and give him a hug. It's the fact that Nomar went out of his way.

Maybe he couldn't stand to see the spotlight on someone else. Maybe it was one more way for Nomar to say, "See? I really do like Boston!" in his somewhat successful attempt to show the lemmings he cares and get their love back. Or maybe he and Rice are friends. I don't know their relationship.

But if they are friends, Nomar should have accepted that this was Rice's moment, stood to the side and let him have it. It's not like there wouldn't be other opportunities both inside the ballpark or outside to give Rice a hug, congratulate him, buy him a beer, whatever. And if he couldn't get a hold of him, Nomar could have called up his good buddy Lou Merloni and gotten hooked up.

It was Rice's moment. And it was an unbelievable one - one that I feel extremely lucky to have been there to see. But a part of me will always remember that moment where the man who couldn't stand to be here, couldn't stand the organization and didn't care about the fans made himself a part of history that honored someone who did all the things Nomar never did.

Stay classy, Nomar. Stay classy.