I understand why Doug Flutie is with New England, just as I understood why Ellis Burkes played with the Boston Red Sox last year. Because this is home. It's where you want to wind down your career and make peace with the end of your professional career.
When John Milton was going blind, he must have grieved for his career as a writer, but he had an option. His daughter gave up her freedom to help him continue to do what he loved most. She read to him, and she transcribed his writings for him. No one can play for Ellis or Doug. When a professional ball player is done, the best he can do is hang on as a manager like Mike Scioscia and Orel Hershiser, transition to an ancillary role like reporting or commentating on sports like Dennis Ecksersley, Boomer Eisiason, and as I just discovered last week, Joe Magane, damn I miss him, or fade into the woodwork. (I know you're thinking of the George Foreman grill, right now, and I agree, shilling something or other is, of course, an option, but not an exclusive one. Johnny Pesky is both hawking windows, and working with the club. Phil Rizzuto, and Harry Carey managed both broadcasting careers and spokesman careers.) The one thing you don't want to be doing is working at Sears selling Lady Kenmores. "Sears sucks, Crash."
Doug Flutie and Ellis Burkes gave time, effort, energy, and love to this city. Why wouldn't they want to come back for one last season in the sun. More to the point, why wouldn't we embrace them? Don't we owe them that? More than owe them, don't we want to see them shine again? Here. Where it counts.
Time to push the sun back into the sky for just one more game.