Nancy is married to a Red Sox shortstop. A dude who is now at the top of his game. At the top of the game, in general. He has become a celebrity. He’s good-looking. He becomes one of the untouchables. One of the Gods.
Nancy was completely unprepared for what would happen when they moved to Boston. Or – she thought she was prepared, but nobody can prepare you for such a paparazzi onslaught. She’s also a drunk. She thinks she just “drinks socially” but it is impossible to “drink socially” when you live in Boston and you are the wife of a famous Red Sox shortstop. She is caught out, here, there, everywhere, drunk, sloshy, getting in and out of cabs. Her behavior becomes increasingly erratic. Her husband does press conferences, asking the press to back off, because obviously “my wife is shy”. This does not stop the bloodhounds. They smell her weakness. They stalk her everywhere. She does time in a rehab. When she comes out, after a couple of months, a barrage of photographers wait for her at the gate.
She is a PR nightmare for the Red Sox front desk. She tells reporters to “screw themselves”. She says things at press conferences like, “I f***ing can’t stand baseball. I prefer football.” She doesn’t bond with the other Red Sox wives.
She’s a mess. She wears sunglasses. She doesn’t know how to be gracious. She can’t bear the attention.
She’s slowly being driven insane by the flashbulbs of the cameras.
Here are some photos detailing the disintegration of her personality.
Nancy, coming out of O’Reilly’s Cask and Flagon at 1:30 in the morning.
Nancy, stumbling out of Maxwell’s Pub at half past midnight.
Nancy, staggering out of Lucky’s Tavern, at 1:30 in the afternoon.
Someone from the Providence Journal took this photograph of Nancy at Fenway Park on July 31 – at the moment that her husband hit a grand slam. This was her response.
Later that night, she was caught by the Boston Globe, drinking by herself at Fitzgeralds.
Needless to say, when she heard the cameras clicking, she was not happy.
On August 2nd, her husband hit another grand slam. She slept through it, in the stands.
Then someone woke her up and told her about her husband’s grand slam. This was her response.
The next day, she was besieged on the streets of Boston wherever she went.
Naturally, she did not handle it well.
Not at all well.
It’s a long day for Nancy.
She’s screaming something along the lines of: “I don’t give a crap!”
And things go downhill from there. Quickly.
On August 4th, Nancy offers a meek apology to the press. She is wasted. She slurs the word “sorry”. That afternoon, her husband hits a home run. Nancy is in the stands. This is her response.
I don’t think Nancy is cut out to be the wife of a major league star. She just doesn’t understand the rules of the game.
OMG! I love her the best. Poor Nancy.
You are completely insane. ;-)
How did Nancy find a cap with a backwards “B”?
those were hilarious. cat lady is my favorite. i feel as though i know her.
//Someone from the Providence Journal took this photograph of Nancy at Fenway Park on July 31 – at the moment that her husband hit a grand slam. This was her response.//
The pic that follows this caption is beautiful (regardless of the obvious suffering of Nancy…) It strongly reminds me of a series of pics of Marilyn Monroe, taken in a back alley with only car lights illuminating the scene. Do you know which pics I mean?? They are so poignant…
Btw, I’ve enjoyed these photo series very much! Thanks for sharing it!
Nightfly – hahaha I know – I guess the camera reverses everything. Nancy probably doesn’t even know the difference.
Naturally this my favorite set!
I like the “Broken Journey” in the background. Poor Nancy, indeed.
Dan – of course! :)
OK, in a tangential yet somehow direct way, I think this whole series of photos confirms and reinforces what I was saying here the other day about the power of the generalist. The pictures could not have happened if you weren’t a very talented actress, but they also could not have happened if you were only a very talented actress. For this thing to take shape, there was also a need for an excellent photographer, graphic artist and writer. The pictures are fantastic by themselves, but you couldn’t get the full effect of the piece without those set-ups.
Red, I stand in even greater amazement than usual at your manifold extraordinary abilities…
Uh, Nancy, did you KNOW he was a baseball player when you married him? I mean, I’m not trying to be negative or anything, but you didn’t fall in love with a plumber. If you REALLY wanted to be private, couldn’t you just stay at HOME and watch the games? It’s not like the TEAM needs you there…god, these are the imAGINary Red Sox and I’m upset at the distraction. Get a grip, Nancy!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
You’re talking to Nancy!!
Nancy came to life basically because whatever photo I wanted to take I wanted to make sure the “B” was visible – so immediately the photos took on a “harassed by the paparazzi” feel to them … It’s so ridiculous! Like – EVERY photo needs to have the “B” in it?
Apparently yes.
Also – change your hat, Nancy, if you want to go get wasted and be anonymous. Get another disguise!
Seriously, Nancy. Imagine you were working for a company. And every time you turned a corner at work, there was your husband groaning about how hard it was for him to be married to someone who worked for Whatever, Inc. Drunk? Angry?
The MAN IS TRYING TO WORK.
hahahaha I know – it’s so ridiculous.
She’s clueless. I think she has some anger management issues as well.
Peter Gatien incarnate …
This is hilarious to me: Look who’s on the first page of Google image searches when you put in “Peter Gatien”. If you didn’t actually know me and you kept running into me on Google Image Searches where I was…
Character development
I’m not sure, but this is what I have so far. These are to be added to other characters I have created with Mac Photo Booth, one of the best toys ever for a bored narcissist like myself. Alexa: Peter…