Wells Wants to End Career in City Where No One Cares About Baseball
Boston, as it turns out, wasn’t David Wells’ kind of town. Haunted by fans who admired the pitcher and at times asked to have their picture taken with him, Wells soon determined he needed to live like a hermit—and that’s not his kind of lifestyle. “I like to unwind with twenty or thirty beers, get in a fistfight or two, and then drive my motorcycle naked through the window of a store,” the pitcher said recently. “I mean, that's my idea of a rockin' good time. And I don’t like nobody bothering me about it, neither. But I do that kind of thing in Boston, and they’ll actually put it in the newspaper. That ain’t right.”
And so the private, introverted pitcher has asked to be traded to the West Coast to end his storied career. “Somewhere where nobody gives a rat’s ass about baseball,” Wells continued. “To me, San Diego is ideal. Half the fans don’t even understand the rules of the game. They’re used to losing, so they don’t get on your case about it. They don’t show up until the third or fourth inning, they leave early, and they have no idea what the names of any of the players are. They’re more interested in the mascots or working on their tan. Same thing in Anaheim or L.A. In Boston, when you drive home, it’s like a scene out of Mad Max: The Road Warrior. They follow you in a caravan like screaming lunatics, climbing onto your car while you’re driving, trying to take pictures and carry on a conversation with you. I can’t live like that no more, man.”
Wells does admit that he will miss some of the food at Fenway Park. “In Boston, some fan would always hand me a hot dog and a beer between innings,” Wells explained. “That was nice, it really kept me going, you know? In San Diego, they give you a salad, some raw octopus, or an edible tree or something. But, hey, there are tradeoffs everywhere. Bottom line is, I just want to pitch, have everybody stay the hell away from me, and have the fans sit there like zombies. San Diego, here I come.”
