Center of attention

Catching up on the news from Camp Tranquility (better known to much of the media as Camp Ohhowwewishformelodrama) . . .

Coco Crisp says he'd rather start elsewhere than be a backup in Boston: Can't say I blame him, can you? He's in the heart of what should be his prime at 28, he's coming off the best defensive season a Red Sox center fielder has had in who knows how long, and has proven he can be a valuable contributor to a winning ball club even when he struggles at the plate. He is completely justified in wanting to play, and the suspicion is that he will be accommodated before the Sox head north . . . er, make that to the Far East. And I think that is a mistake. Crisp will not be divisive force here (let's stop the comparison to the reprehensible Jay Payton now), he's one injury to Manny or J.D. Drew from playing just about every day, and the argument can be made that he's still the best center field option on the roster, at least at the moment.

In praising Crisp, the intent is not to make a case against Ellsbury, to suggest he's some combination of Ted Cox and Dave Stapleton, a rookie tease destined to fail. The job will be his soon enough, and it may still be his a decade from now. I happen to believe Ellsbury will become a borderline star, play in an All-Star game or two, ultimately enjoy a Brett Butler-type career. But his star turn in October has already made him an idol here, particularly among the Pink Hats and Men's Vogue readers, and while the Bill James Handbook (somewhat more credible on baseball matters than Vogue) projects him to hit .320 with an .810 OPS and 42 steals, I'm not quite convinced he's ready for center stage. His minor league slugging percentage (.425) is only slightly higher than Crisp's as a big leaguer (.409), and it appeared to these untrained eyes that the book was out on Ellsbury last September: get two strikes on him and he'll hack at anything. The Rockies evidently didn't have a copy of said book, but it's cause for at least mild concern. The kid still has some adjustments to make.

Again, my point here is that it's not necessary for this to be an either/or deal. I like both players a lot, and the Sox are a better team with both players. And until Ellsbury proves beyond a doubt that he can lay off a low, inside breaking ball and make the center field job his own - or at least until the Sox get a more than fair offer for Crisp - the status quo is the way to go.


Terry Francona signs a three-year contract extension with club options through the 2013 season: I think we've made it clear how we here at TATB feel about Tito: He's far and away the best manager the Red Sox have had in the 30 years we've been watching, and there's no current manager we'd rather have running this team. He's the right man at the right moment with the right team, and we were incredibly . . . well, relieved to realize that the Red Sox front office appreciates him as much as we do. Francona is the rare manager who is adept at both game management and people management. Part of what makes him so effective in relating to the personalities in his remarkably diverse clubhouse is that he has seen baseball from so many perspectives: he's been a phenom (he and some Ripken kid were the hot shot rookies of '82), a journeyman (after injuries sapped his talent), a minor-league manager, a big-league coach, and front office assistant (for Mark Shapiro in Cleveland). It's almost as if everything in his career - including his failed managerial stint in Philadelphia - was preparation for his present job, and he makes the absolute most out of all the knowledge he has gathered along the way. The Red Sox are fortunate to have him.

Former AL Cy Young Award winner Bartolo Colon agrees to a minor-league contract: As long as they're not paying him in Ring Dings and (delicious) Yodels, I can't see a downside to this. Colon, who at age 34 (he turns 35 in May) is just three years removed from a 21-8, 3.48 season, is exactly the kind of low-risk, high-reward chance the Red Sox can - and should - take. Sure, he's got a lot of miles on his surgically repaired right shoulder, and there's a chance he arrives at camp looking like he swallowed Curt Schilling in two bites. But there's also a decent chance he gives the Sox the 120-150 innings they were expecting Schilling to eat (ahem) at the back of the rotation. Better yet, his arrival means he's reunited with two of his best buddies from his baseball youth in Cleveland, Manny Ramirez and Julian Tavarez, and the potential for comedy there is endless. Come to think of it, NESN really ought to give those three goofy amigos their own show.

* * *

As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:

Mike Greenwell, Mo Vaughn, and Bill Lee in the same year? The Red Sox Hall of Fame banquet just got a whole lot more fun . . . and the after-party should really be something.

Catching up

It's about time somebody wrote something around here, so let's go . . .

I realize it's disappointing that he hasn't hit like he did in Cleveland, but I don't see how anyone can watch Coco Crisp on a daily basis and not develop a deep appreciation for how he plays the game. This was brought up in the comments a column or so ago, and it's so right on that it's worth reiterating here: Crisp is the very embodiment of the things a dirt dog is supposed to be, all hustle and desire and energy, and yet for some curious reason, he gets very little credit for that, especially from those who you suspect once owned a Darren Bragg replica jersey and think Jeff Frye was a hell of a second baseman. Maybe Coco needs to start wearing a dirtier hat or something. (Note: This was written before he drove that hotheaded moron Daniel Cabrera to the brink of homicide tonight. Another checkmark in Coco's favor.)

After all the shots I've taken at Barry Bonds and Jason Giambi over the years, I'd shatter the Hypocrisy Meter if I told you I really don't care that Rodney Harrison took HGH, and that I'm convinced he'd be in the minority among NFL players if he didn't use something to enhance his chances of surviving so many brutal Sundays. So let's leave it at this: I'm stunned that Harrison, who has always struck me as one of the league's brighter players, was so naive as to use his own name and address when ordering the stuff. Because that's the only way they were going to catch him.

Am I wrong to wonder if the Patriots might get off to a slower start than people are expecting? I mean, Harrison and Richard Seymour are out, Asante Samuel is begging for a hamstring pull, Tom Brady hasn't had a lot of time to get on the same page with new receivers Randy Moss and Donte' Stallworth . . . and they have to deal with the Jets and the Chargers right out of the gate. I realize that only a fool would underestimate this team, but right now it might be wise to avoid overestimating them as well.

I'm not saying Tito Francona is flawless as a manager - sometimes he does leave his starters in too long, sometimes he's too loyal to his veterans - but those banshees who call 'EEI for the sole purpose of venting about "Francoma" have forgetten what a lousy manager looks like. Even on his worst night, I still consider him the best manager the Red Sox have had in my lifetime, especially when you consider how well he deals with the peripheral distractions such as the smothering media and a voracious fan base. Let Joe Kerrigan or Kevin Kennedy return to the dugout for a week and those mouthbreathing morons would be begging for Tito back.

All right, Geffner, we'll say it one more time: Put down the media guide and step away from the microphone, and no more eardrums have to get hurt. (Please, somebody tell me that the rumors Dave O'Brien will be full-time next season are true. Please. I'm begging here.)

Other stuff we wrote while were away from this place: Last week's Fox column (chock full o' Yankee-aimed cheap shots), this week's Fox column (featuring a rather unfortunately timed tribute to Rick Ankiel, who apparently more like Rodney Harrison than he is Roy Hobbs), and a piece for GameDay on the Sox' stellar rookie class.

I keep checking Joe Posnanski's blog on the hope that he might have sneaked back and cranked out some wonderful, whimsical piece on The Top 40 Lefthanded Specialists Since 1970 or something, but so far, the lights are still out at what fast became my favorite stop (make that PG-rated stop) on the internet. Hopefully he'll start it up again when he has another book to promote, because just about every time I read his stuff, I was reminded of why I like baseball and why I like writing, and I do miss those daily reminders.

I thought he should have stayed in the big leagues the first time he got called up, but the more I see of Jacoby Ellsbury (who looks like some odd hybrid of Mark Teixeira and Johnny Damon), the more I think he should be starting in right field come Game 1 of the ALDS. I don't think I'm being hyperbolic to say he's done more to help the Red Sox win in his 40-something at-bats this season than Drew has in 400-something. It's gotten to the point with Drew that I don't even get mad anymore when he inevitably does exactly what they don't need him to do in a particular at-bat; he's pathetic, and he's made me apathetic. I'm beyond having any expectations for him. I just want to know why, for the first time in his career, he's not hitting at all. It must be the shoulder, right?

Based on their "contributions" during their time with the Red Sox, I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the concept of Tony Clark and Darren Oliver being major leaguers in 2007, let alone productive ones.

As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


He damn well better be wearing his jersey under that jacket.

* * *NOW FOR THE IMPORTANT NEWS OF THE WEEK * * *

I imagine you know what I'm talking about, since 23 of you (yep, I counted) emailed me the past two days to tell me that Jenna Fischer, the Official Muse of TATB (Non-Wife Division) . . .

(meow . . . love the Elvira look)

. . . is separated from her husband. Now as flattering as it is to know that you all consider me to be the World's Preeminent Jenna Fischer Internet Stalker (or, as my friend Melissa put it, "Don't sell yourself short, you're the World's Preeminent Jenna Fischer Internet Stalker Blogger. You're not just some layabout stalker"), well, it's just that I'm thinking that her stunning declaration of free agency probably isn't going to benefit me a whole hell of a lot, given that I'm poor, anonymous, bitter, humorless, gimpy, based in Maine, in no danger of landing a modeling contract, and, last time I checked with my wife, still married. (This would be a good time to quote Lloyd Christmas: "So you're saying I've got a chance?")

Anyway, it's nice that you thought of me - yes, even you, Rob M., who wrote this: "When you posted the 'Through Any Window,' video that Jenna's in, I just assumed that's how you planned on getting into her house." Gotta admit, that's well-played.

In all seriousness, it was surprising to read that news, if only because Jenna and her husband, actor/writer/director James Gunn (a vulgar riot on his MySpace page), always seemed to make a point in saying how important their spouse was to their happiness and success. She often referred to him as her "real-life Jim," and they seemed as sincere and stable as a Hollywood couple could be, though in retrospect maybe it was just another acting role for both of them. I am curious what the real story is. My wife has a very interesting theory that might just have some credence (not to mention a great visual). I tend to think that it's either a case of career jealousy - he was successful and she was unknown when they got married, and now she's off getting her boobs squeezed on the big screen by Will Ferrell - or someone got busted messing around. Either way, James Gunn will no longer be referred to as the luckiest &^%&$# in the world. Maybe the stupidest, depending on what the truth is.

And so as we conclude this TATB Hollywood Minute, check out this hilarious promo for the upcoming season of "The Office." I'd say "30 percent more unpredictable" is working, wouldn't you?

Nine innings: 07.24.07

Playing nine innings while wishing Papi would learn how to slide . . .


1. Of course it was heartwarming and wonderful to see Jon Lester on the mound for the Red Sox last night, earning the victory in his first appearance since his cancer diagnosis last August, and from a sentimental standpoint I hope he spends the next dozen years winning ballgames and inspiring Jimmy Fund patients as a treasured member of the Red Sox. But from a coldly unsentimental baseball standpoint, I have to say that the pitcher I saw last night was the same one I saw last summer, one who lacks either the command or the trust in his stuff to be as efficient and effective as a pitcher of his raw talent should be. Sure, I realize the magnitude of the moment, that he surely had butterflies as big as Mothra in his stomach as he completed his long journey back to a big-league mound, and his bases-loaded whiff of Grady Sizemore did bring back fun memories of his high point of a season ago, when he whiffed the Mets' David Wright in a remarkably similar situation. But I still can't help but think (and I admit, hope) that Theo Epstein should be so ruthless as to trade Lester for Mark Teixeira while the young lefty still retains most of his Elite Prospect luster. I hope Lester will become the pitcher we all want him to be, for reasons that extend well beyond baseball. It's just that I'm slightly skeptical, based on what I have seen of him from Portland on up, that it will ever happen, and I wonder, putting their fondness and respect for the kid aside, if the Red Sox honchos feel the same way.

2. Four straight wins . . . the first team in the majors to 60 victories . . . a lead over the "surging" Yankees that is actually a hal-game larger than it was on Mother's Day. Yes, I think it's okay to feel good about the Red Sox again. It's funny, but it seems to me that the baseball gods, who had been conspiring against the Sox for the past few weeks, finally decided to cut them some slack after Tim McClelland turned J.D. Drew's three-run homer into an inning-ending RBI double Friday night. It looked like that was going to be one more bad break, one more lost opportunity . . . and then the next thing you know, Julio Lugo of all people is getting a curtain call after hitting a grand slam, the Sox are cruising to a much-needed win, and all is well. I'm still convinced they need one more A-list hitter in the middle of the lineup, but with Lugo and Coco Crisp contributing and Manny Ramirez finally finding his groove, this lineup more often than not will score enough runs for the stellar pitching staff to come away with a win. As long as the Sox remain reasonably healthy, I'm relatively confident they'll keep the Yankees at a comfortable distance the rest of the way.

3. For all of the talk about Kason Gabbard being a finesse pitcher (I believe the proper baseball term is "a Jamie Moyer-type"), it's worth noting that in his brief major-league career he is averaging slightly more than six strikeouts per nine innings, which is more than respectable and tells you his stuff is better than he's often given credit for. This isn't Kevin Morton or Abe Alvarez we're talking about here. I've seen enough in his 10 career starts to believe that Gabbard has the arm and the repertoire to win in the big leagues.

4. Happy trails, Wily Mo Pena, and good luck with your ongoing and thus far futile quest to recognize a slider. Oh, I know Pena's technically still around, but it's only a matter of days now before he's an Oakland A or a Pittsburgh Pirate, and I figured I'd get the jump on the farewells. That way we can get on with pretending this whole thing never happened.

5. From Peter King's Monday Morning Quarterback column:

b. Not that I'm questioning what planet David Ortiz has fallen off, but the catcher for Kansas City, John Buck, who starts about 65 percent of the time and has 121 fewer at-bats, has as many homers, 16, as Ortiz.

c. The following players, four months into the season, have more home runs than Ortiz, who hit 54 last year: Dan Uggla, Brandon Phillips, Carlos Pena, Chris Duncan, Jimmy Rollins, J.J. Hardy, Jack Cust, Brad Hawpe.

d. Theories, anyone? And don't give me the stuff about his right knee being sore. That's not his plant knee.

Now, I suppose ol' Latte Lips is not-so-subtly implying something about Papi here, but no matter what ham-handed point he is trying to make, I know this: Every time King writes about his favorite team, the Red Sox, I find myself wishing he was a Yankees fan.

6. Obligatory random football note: Considering that Michael Vick has probably overthrown his last receiver for the Falcons, and considering that the only place he's better than Drew Brees is on Madden, this trade has to go down as the most lopsided in NFL history since the Vikings traded half their depth chart along with their draft board for Herschel Walker.

7. Now this is the Coco Crisp the Red Sox thought they were getting from the Indians before last season. This is the guy who was so dynamic last spring before before a broken finger ruined his first season in Boston. After last night's 4-for-5 performance in his first game in Cleveland since the trade, his batting average is up to .284, and most encouragingly, he's finally hammering good fastballs again, something we were told was his strength as a hitter but never really saw until recently. I'm as enamored with Jacoby Ellsbury as everyone else around here, but if the Crisp we've seen the last six weeks or so is the Crisp we're going to be getting from here on out, I'm in no hurry to see him move on. He's been a joy to watch, especially in the field, and I hope - and believe - it will continue.

8. Not that I'm getting tired of the Yankees digging up these sold-my-soul-to-the-devil types who come out of nowhere seemingly ever other year to provide a late-season jolt, but I am wondering if Shelley Duncan and Shane Spencer have ever been seen in the same room together.

9. As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


Beyond the obvious tragedy of a man dying too young, the thing that really breaks my heart about this story is that Coolbaugh had two children, ages 5 and 3, with a third on the way. Being a father of two myself and roughly the same age as Coolbaugh, I keep catching myself wondering how his widow can possibly have the strength to explain to their two boys why their dad is gone.

Fade to black

Ten free minutes for me, 10 free throwaway lines for you . . .

1. The Red Sox lineup tonight had better have Kevin Youkilis and/or Dustin Pedroia at the top, and Coco Crisp-Tinsley and Julio Yugo at the bottom. I realize that Tito Francona stands by his players and gives them every opportunity to swing their way out of slumps, and sometimes, such as in the case of Pedroia earlier this season, that's an attribute. But for both Crisp and Lugo, this is no longer a slump; they've both been wretched offensive players for over a full season now, and their inability to get on base ahead of Papi and Manny is murdering the Sox offense. It's time for a shakeup, hopefully starting tonight.

2. If the Celtics hang on to the No. 5 pick, I vote for choosing Florida's Corey Brewer. I don't think he'll be a superstar, but he is adept at just about everything a player can do on a basketball court, and he strikes me as one of those guys who's going to be a key component on a winning team, sort of like Josh Howard in Dallas.

3. Remember when ESPN Classic actually showed, you know, classic sports? Now it's a drab mishmash of poker reruns, bowling, and Stump the Schwab marathons, with an occasional game mixed in, usually one that promotes something on the network that night. Back when you could click it on and randomly catch, say, the '86 NBA Finals highlight film, or a This Week In Baseball from the '70s, or the Kellen Winslow Chargers/Dolphins playoff game, I was gleefully addicted. Now, it might as well be the 24-Hour Rosie O'Donnell Network for all that I watch it. Chalk it ups as another great idea slaughtered by ESPN's marketing suits.

4. I'll always appreciate Mike Timlin for what he meant to the Sox in 2003 and '04, but it's gotten to the point where I dread even seeing him warming up in the bullpen during a close game. I appreciate Francona more than any other Sox manager of my lifetime, but his current blindspot for Timlin drives me nuts; why can't he realize he's no longer the pitcher who was so effective in the eighth inning a couple of seasons ago, and refrain from using him in tight situations? Wasn't he paying attention last August?

5. The national media, almost unanimously from what I can tell, came away from Patriots minicamp raving about Randy Moss. Certain members of the local press are predictably yowling that he was dogging it. So excuse me while I give Peter King credence for once.

6. A few posts ago I linked to a Bo Jackson column written by the great Kansas City Star columnist, Joe Posnanski. I should also have mentioned then that he maintains perhaps the most interesting and certainly the most well-written baseball blog you'll find. Ostensibly it's to promote his book on the legendary Buck O'Neil, but Posnanski veers off in various fun directions all the time, such as his recent post on the icons for every major-league franchise. It's become a must-read for me, so check it out if you get the chance. If you liked his Bo column, you won't be disappointed.

7. I suppose this could work in a Frasier-spinning-off-from-Cheers sort of way, but man, I just can't imagine the antics at Dunder-Mifflin being as funny without Dwight K. Schrute.

8. After watching the brilliant "Sopranos" ending 25 times on YouTube (before HBO yanked it for copyright reasons, apparently), I agree with the theory that Tony got capped in the restaurant. I just can't help but think the conversation earlier in the season between Tony and Bobby in which Bobby ponders what it's like to get whacked and finally concludes, "Maybe everything just goes black" was David Chase's way of foreshadowing the show's (and Tony's) final moments.

9. The hunch here is that Asante Samuel will sign the week before the season opener. It's understandable that he's frustrated that he can't cash in Nate Clements-style, but he's still due to make nearly $8 million this season, which is about $7 million more than he's made in his career up until this point. He'd be a fool to waste a pretty decent payday and a season of his prime in a hissy-fit of a holdout.

10. As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



This is most blatant airbrushing job I've ever seen . . . that is, until Amanda Beard.

Nine innings: 05.09.07

Playing nine innings while feeling a whole lot better about the Hanley Ramirez trade these days . . .

1. Okay, so maybe we went a little over the top with our Kinison-like rant in ripping Roger Clemens the other day. It's just that of all of the things about Clemens that aggravate us - the convenient "tweaks" when a game isn't going his way, his knack for shrinking when the moment calls for him to stand tall, his demand for more perks than any diva in Hollywood, his phony aw-shucks demeanor - it's the oaf's chronic dishonesty that bugs us the most. Why did he have to stand there in Steinbrenner's lair and, peering smugly at the Yankee Stadium peons below, try to claim that he's back with the Yankees because they so quaintly "came and got him out of Texas"? Why can't he just admit that it's about what it has always been about with him: THE MONEY, STUPID! There's nothing wrong with that, particularly in this day and age, and yet the disingenuous rube thinks he's fooling us by claiming it's about everything but the cash. Who's he trying to kid? Remember when his name came up in the Jason Grimsley case? His first concern was that it was going to cost him endorsements. He's made $100-something million in his career, Koby, Kielbasa, Klambake, Kareem, and all the other "K" kids are financially set for several lifetimes, and yet he's more worried about losing his five-figure gig pitching Preparation H than about how being pegged as a juicer would affect his legacy. And still, in the face of his transparent greed, he has the hubris to act as if his cause is something far more noble than further engorging his bank account. What a fraud. Let me just make one more point before I go ballistic again: Had the Red Sox somehow outbid the Yankees in this charade - and given the desperation in the Bronx, that was not going to happen - you know he'd have fed us a similar line of Texas bull about how much coming home to Boston means to him and all of that treacly, Dr. Steinberg-scripted nonsense. Would we have eaten it up? Well, I suddenly find myself looking forward to watching Randy Moss play for my favorite team after years of despising the guy, so in the spirit of the truth I'll admit that, yeah, I'd swallow a heaping helping of hypocrisy and probably cheer Clemens, even though I'd hate myself in the morning. Hey, we sports fans are suckers for sentiment. Just ask Roger.

2. Unless David Ortiz actually enjoys the WEEI-driven conjecture about his own enhanced performance since he became a Red Sox, he'd be wise to refrain from any further head-scratching proclamations that he doesn't believe Barry Bonds knowingly used steroids. We appreciate Papi's good (if ill-informed) intentions, but he must realize than any time a slugger of this era speaks up in defense of Bonds, he immediately becomes a target of steroid suspicion himself. As for a certain other Sox player who weighed in on Bonds Tuesday, let's just leave it at this: When Curt Schilling had his chance before Congress to opine on steroids' impact on his profession, he clammed up to the point that we half expected him to pull the Sammy Sosa No hablo Ingles routine. Please, spare us the sanctimony now.

3. The pining for Alex Cora to play every day has died down now that Dustin Pedroia has begun to look like he belongs, and that's a good thing. While Cora is certainly a valuable member of the roster - this isn't the first time I've said he's the best utility player the Sox have had in my lifetime, and it won't be the last - he's a 31-year-old who has a .246 average in 10 big-league seasons. As a certain local football coach might say, he is what he is. The Sox are wise to give Pedroia an extended chance, and should he prove incapable of handling it, Cora should remain in the reserve role in which he thrives, while someone out of the Graffanino/Grudzielanek/Loretta cookie-cutter is brought in to take the majority of the at-bats.

4. If you thought you've been saying, "Did you see that catch Coco made?" on a frequent basis lately . . . well, according to Bill James via Seth Mnookin, there's a good reason for that, and it's not because you're suffering a flashback to that excruciatingly ubiquitous NESN commercial of a season ago. Crisp has been dazzling in center field lately, averaging roughly one Web Gem every other game or so, and at the plate and on the bases he's starting to look like the dynamic player the Sox coveted as Johnny Damon's successor. Hmmm, maybe he's going to thrive here after all.

5. You've probably heard this by now, but it's worth hearing again, because this hilariously shrill snippet of Yankee propaganda is so over-the-top that even Georgie Porgie mouthpiece John Sterling seemed taken aback. This will never get old. Heck, I'm putting it into heavy rotation on the iPod just to bring a little more comedy to my day. And for the record, I'm pretty sure Suzyn Waldman is what Glenn Geffner would sound like if he worked for the Yankees, idolized Liza Minnelli, and had a more masculine voice.

6. Toronto's Vernon Wells is becoming the Joe Carter of era, an outstanding all-around player who spends an inordinate amount of his time absolutely slaughtering Red Sox pitching. And like Carter, his predecessor by a generation as a Blue Jays signature player, Wells is an affable star whose ego has not swollen in proportion to his salary, as this fun story indicates.

7. Thirty-one games into his Boston tenure, Julio Lugo is the same guy I saw all those years in Tampa Bay: occasionally exciting, often erratic, and not someone you're terribly interested in having on your favorite team. I'm not going to go all Lobel on you and wonder why the Sox let Alex Gonzalez depart, because his currently stellar offensive numbers will be subpar once the summer is over. But I still don't understand Theo Epstein's fascination with Lugo, let alone for the 4-year, $36-million price tag.

8. Despite his Mark Clear imitation in his 2007 debut last night, we're going to stick by our binky and repeat our preseason prediction that Devern Hansack will be a valuable contributor to the Red Sox pitching staff this season. His command was clearly on the fritz last night; judging by what I saw of him last summer in Portland, that's highly unusual. Hansack is a strike-throwing machine with good movement on his low-90s fastball, a decent changeup, and a tight, sharp slider that is a major-league out pitch, as Frank Thomas found out last night. He's 29, with an unusual backstory and hardly the Baseball America pedigree, but you can hold me to this: Given a fair chance, Hansack will succeed in the big leagues.

9. As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



Macha, the less-than-beloved former A's manager who once employed Terry Francona as his bench coach, is the latest addition to NESN's cadre of studio analysts. The early verdict: Though he's got about as much charisma as a sanitary sock, he brings an insider's knowledge when he talks about players' strengths and weaknesses. We still wish The Eck had the gig every night, but Macha has the potential to be a decent second option.

The James gang

Since we got an email box full of feedback regarding our recent look at the Bill James Handbook's projections for the 2007 Red Sox, I figured we should revisit the the numbers James and the Baseball Info Solutions wizards projected for last year's Sox, and find out just how accurate they ultimately were.

One more thing: If you liked our take on this year's Handbook, check out my pal Dave D'Onofrio's James/Sox breakdown in the Concord Monitor. He did it first, starting the tradition before the 2006 season, and he does it better.

Okay, let's break it down . . .

HITTERS
Jason Varitek
Projected: .266 average, 20 homers, 75 RBIs in 492 at-bats.
Actual: .238-12-55 in 355 at-bats.
Comment: Injuries played a part, but they always do in the inevitable and rapid decline of a 30-something catcher.

Kevin Youkilis
Projected: .278-14-68 in 500 at-bats.
Actual: .279-13-72 in 569 at-bats.
Comment: Bingo.

Julio Lugo
Projected: .286-9-61, 28 steals in 597 at-bats.
Actual: .278-12-37 in 435 at-bats.
Comment: How did he drive in just 37 runs? That's an Enzo Hernandez-like ratio.

Mike Lowell
Projected: .269-16-72 in 465 at-bats.
Actual: .284-20-80 in 573 at-bats.
Comment: And I think we'd all be thrilled - and maybe a little surprised - if Lowell matches his '06 comeback numbers.

Manny Ramirez
Projected: .305-45-141 in 587 at-bats.
Actual: .321-35-102 in 449 at-bats.
Comment: It appears the sabermetric dudes are yet to come up with a variable that accounts for a hitter's unexpected late-summer vacation.

Coco Crisp
Projected: .296-13-64 in 557 at-bats.
Actual: .264-8-36 in 413 at-bats.
Comment: His inaugural Boston season was sidetracked by a broken finger, and we're still yet to see the player who was so dynamic in '04-'05 for Cleveland.

J.D. Drew
Projected: .295-25-70 in 444 at-bats.
Actual: .283-20-100 in 494 at-bats.
Comment: I'm curious why James projected 25 homers but just 70 RBIs.

David Ortiz
Projected: .289-40-132 in 589 at-bats.
Actual: .287-54-139 in 558 at-bats.
Comment: The lesson, as always: Underestimate Big Papi's power at your own risk.

Wily Mo Pena
Projected: .259-21-57 in 340 at-bats.
Actual: .301-11-42 in 276 at-bats.
Comment: The ultimate baseball tease: If he can hit .301 while whiffing in one-third of his at-bats, what might he do if he ever learns to make consistent contact?

Doug Mirabelli
Projected: .244-6-20 in 135 at-bats.
Actual: .193-6-25 in 161 at-bats.
Comment: Projections were based on him playing for the Padres. How I wish they still were.

PITCHERS
Curt Schilling
Projected: 14 wins, 7 losses, 3.31 ERA, 193 strikeouts in 190 innings.
Actual: 15-7, 3.97, 183 Ks in 204 innings.
Comment: All in all, a fairly accurate prediction of his comeback season.

Josh Beckett
Projected: 14-8, 3.42, 192 Ks in 194 innings, 17 homers allowed.
Actual: 16-11, 5.01, 158 Ks in 204 innings, 36 homers allowed.
Comment: Who would have predicted he'd allow more home runs than Manny would hit?

Julian Tavarez
Projected: 4.18 ERA in 61 innings.
Actual: 4.47 ERA in 98.6 innings.
Comment: His stats would have been worse, but he pitched well in September garbage time.

Tim Wakefield
Projected: 14-13, 4.11, 241 innings, 173 Ks.
Actual: 7-11, 4.63, 140 innings, 90 Ks.
Comment: Oddly, the projections anticipated career highs in innings pitched and strikeouts for the then-39 year old.

Jonathan Papelbon
No projection, because, dude, you just can't foresee sheer awesomeness!

Brendan Donnelly
Projected: 3.14 ERA in 62 innings.
Actual: 3.94 ERA in 64 innings.
Comment: And he'd have met his projections, darn it, had those meddling kids not caught him scuffing the ball the year before.

Mike Timlin
Projected: 3.63 ERA in 74 innings.
Actual: 4.36 ERA in 64 innings.
Comment: The former Mr. Reliable was never right in season's second half.

J.C. Romero
Projected: 4.25 ERA in 54 innings.
Actual: 6.70 ERA in 48.3 innings.
Comment: The 28/31 BB/K ratio was nearly as ghastly as the ERA.

Kyle Snyder
Projected: 4.87 ERA in 39 innings.
Actual: 6.02 ERA in 58.3 innings.
Comment: Am I wrong to think he wasn't nearly as ineffective as the numbers suggest?

Dice-K, Agent Zero, and other mysteries

Ten free minutes for me, 10 free Celtics phantom injuries for you . . .


1. Now, I'm certainly not suggesting he'll be as good, because I'm a believer that the 1998-2001 Pedro Martinez was a once-in-a-fan's-lifetime gift from the sports gods, that Petey did things on the mound that we'll never witness again. But - and here we try, probably in vain, to fight off the hyperbole - in terms of anticipation leading up to a start, then having anabsolutely thrilling performance justify every single syllable of hype . . . well, if that wasn't straight out of the Vintage Pedro playbook, I don't know what is. Wednesday just cannot get here soon enough.

2. If you've visited the space for any length of time, you surely realize that the Red Sox could have replaced Jerry Trupiano with Charlie Brown's teacher (Mwah-mwah-MannyRamirez-mwahmwhamwha-mwha) and I would have considered it a worthwhile tradeoff. But the fact that Dave O'Brien is Joe Castiglione's new partner is almost too good to be true - the new guy's got great pipes (as did Troop), but his feel for the pace of the game and professionalism is an immeasurable upgrade on his predecessor, who was more interested in talking Cardinals or putting together his All-Fish team (Troop: "You'd have Tim Salmon in right, Joe . . ." Joe: Groan) than actually attempting to call a decent game. What a pleasure it is to be able to turn on the Red Sox game and not be annoyed to the point that assaulting the steering wheel seems like a good idea. (I'll reserve my review of Glenn Geffner for a later date, since I haven't heard him for more than a few innings yet.)

3. You can't help but appreciate Jonathan Papelbon's willingness to move back to the bullpen, no matter whether he did it for the betterment of the team or because, as he is now claiming, closing is his personal preference. But you have to wonder how his agent feels, given that a quality starting pitcher (or even a not-so-quality rotation filler) tends to make considerably more money over the course of his career than do relief pitchers not named Mariano.

4. I suppose he could become more lackadaisical the more comfortable he becomes in Boston, but from what I've seen so far, J.D. Drew plays the game a lot harder than we've been led to believe. I like what I see - he's the most well-rounded player on this team, whether he's ultimately a Dirt Dog or not.

5. Tito Francona seems to have a lot of faith in Kyle Snyder considering he was pegged as the long relief guy, and I wouldn't be surprised if that faith proves justified. The former first-round pick has always had the stuff to succeed, just not the health.

6. Is it too soon to revoke my prediction that Coco Crisp will bounce back in Year 2 with the Sox? Man, he looks brutal, and assuming the Sea Dogs actually get any games in before June, Jacoby Ellsbury is going to be pressuring him for that center field job sooner rather than later. I realize it's only four games, but if Crisp keeps this up, he might be hitting routine grounders to second for the Pittsburgh Pirates by the All-Star break.


7. With the daffy, dazzling Gilbert Arenas down for the count with a knee injury, the NBA playoffs just got a whole lot less interesting. But at least it gives the him more time to continue to kick Curt Schilling's ample ass in their pursuit of the Dundie Award for the Best Blog By A Pro Athlete. Consider this snippet from a post after his injury:

I told them to cut the leg off a couple times. You know, cut it off and then bring it back to me when it was all healed. Because, you know, Heather Mills on Dancing with the Stars, she had that leg. I was saying I could borrow one of those and finish out the season. But they wasn’t going for that.

Hey, any NBA player who has the pop-culture awareness to joke about McCartney's peg-legged ex is cool with us.

8. Congressman Smerlas? Watching that overgrown hairball Chewbacca his way through a debate would be must-see TV, no doubt. But if he gets elected to any position higher than assistant meter maid, you'll be able to find me in the nearest bomb shelter, because that'd undoubtedly be a sign that end is near.

9. Well, I suppose this means I can't freely rip on Joe Buck anymore. But I'm damn sure going to find out if McCarver is still fair game.

10. As for today's Completely Random Football Card:


When I was a kid, I ripped up and mutilated every Jack Tatum football card I ever got. It was my childish way of paying tribute to a fallen Patriot I was too young to have seen play, but one whose teammates - and more importantly to me, my dad - spoke of with great reverence. There have been a lot of terrific columns written and anecdotes shared about Darryl Stingley the past few days, and I think this heartfelt email, from reader Shaun Kelly, belongs with them.

As a Patriot season-ticket holder throughout the 70's, I had the genuine honor of seeing every one of Stinger's touchdowns he made as a Patriot at Schaeffer Stadium. We used to wait outside the old clubhouse after home victories, and Darryl was always most cordial and polite to all of us who greeted him. Let me tell you, friend, he was a superb wide-receiver who was like Troy Brown with a little more ability.

I used to hate John Madden because he coached the Raiders, but the way he treated Darryl after his injury in Oakland , my attitude changed completely on the man. As you know, Coach Madden visited him every day in the hospital during his prolonged stay in the local Bay Area hospital. Madden then called him continuously for the rest of that year and even retired from the Raiders after the season because the injury so affected him. When he became a broadcaster and found himself doing Bears games in Chicago , John Madden invariably visited Darryl at his home there.

Steve Grogan once told me that Coach Fairbanks immediately took the play (an over-the-middle sprint in which that -------, Jack Tatum, nailed him) out of the Patriots playbook after Stingley's injury because he didn't want to subject his offensive players to hearing the play called in the huddle. Grogan then said, "It's not just that one of our players became paralyzed, it was Darryl. We loved him like a brother."

Stinger has his legs again. Heaven just got a hell of a receiver and an even better human being.

Rest in peace, No. 84.

Analyzing Bill James's Red Sox projections, Part 1

Last season, Bill James projected that Kevin Youkilis would bat .278 with 14 homers and 68 RBIs in 149 games in his first full season as a big leaguer.

James, being a calculator-toting nerdling who obviously wouldn't know a baseball if one beaned him in his headgear, was, of course, wrong. Youkilis batted .279 with 13 homers and 72 RBIs in 147 games. The Mind of Bill James, my $#@.

All right, so you've got us: we were just trying to sound like your standard bitter, closed-minded, old-school, stat-mocking, Goodwill-wardrobed baseball writer there. (Our model was Murray Chass, if you must know.) As you probably realize if you've visited this space previously, we unabashadly admire James not only for the pioneering ways he has enhanced baseball analysis, but because he is one hell of a fun writer to read. There aren't too many people who can mesh words and numbers into a compelling package. He can, and you bet I'm glad he's a Red Sox employee.

Of course, that doesn't mean we always agree with his conclusions. For instance, I'm not sure how he can project Trot Nixon to hit 223 career homers, when the calcifying 33-year-old outfielder has just 133 right now and has totaled just 27 over the past three seasons. By my calculations, it would take Trot 10 years to hit the 90 he needs to fulfill James's projection. At the rate he's going, I'm not sure Trot will have all of his limbs a decade from now.

Nevertheless, it all makes for fun debate. And with that in mind, we here at TATB cracked open the 2007 Bill James Handbook that always seems to be within an arm's length, and took a look at James's 2007 stat projections for each relevant member of the Red Sox. Check out the numbers he came up with (and our take on said numbers), and let us know how accurate you think he'll be:

THE LINEUP
Julio Lugo
James's projection: .277-11-55 in 564 at-bats; 25 steals
TATB's take: Alex Gonzalez hit .255 with 9 homers and 50 RBIs in nearly 200 fewer at-bats lats season, and the 2006 season highlight reel is proof that he is just about peerless defensively. In other words, Lugo is going to have to surpass James's projections and play better D than he is known for if Sox fans are going to stop reminding him about his predecessor.

Kevin Youkilis
.283-14-77 in 584 at-bats; 101 runs; .395 OBP
These numbers seem about right for Youkilis, although you'd hope he could avoid another late-season fade and perhaps increase his power in his second season as a regular. Is 20 homers too much to ask?

Papi
.285-47-138 in 601 at-bats
I'm somewhat surprised that he forecasts a 7-homer dropoff given that Papi has increased his home run total each season since 2000 (10-18-20-31-41-47-54). Then again, how much better can the big guy possibly get? Do I hear 60 taters?

Manny
.305-37-118 in 512 at-bats; 1.004 OPS
For all of the kvetching about his quirks, there is no more reliable player in baseball in terms of offensive production. So it is that James predicts another typical Manny season, one that would leave him with 507 homers. I don't know about you, but I'm planning on being in Cooperstown for his Hall of Fame speech a dozen years or so from now. It's worth noting that James pegs Manny to play 140 games, which means 22 days' worth of mind-numbing programming for the Big Show is already preset.

J.D. Drew
.283-24-82 in 499 at-bats
A lot of the stat gurus think Drew will be hindered by Fenway power-wise and is more likely to finish in the high teens in home runs. I'm fine with swapping a few homers for a few doubles. All that really matters is that Drew stays healthy and on the field, because he will produce if he plays.

Mike Lowell
.273-18-77 in 502 at-bats
Given that his bat was as slow as Heather Mills's 40-yard-dash time in the second half last season, I'd take these numbers without a moment's hesitation. At least we know his defense will be stellar.

Jason Varitek
.259-17-69 in 468 at-bats
Ditto what I said for Lowell. I don't doubt that Varitek has the will to bounce back. It's just that 35-year-old catchers coming off knee surgery rarely do.

Coco Crisp
.284-11-54 in 511 at-bats; 23 steals
With good health, ol' Covelli Loyce eclipses these numbers with ease and duplicates the .300-16-69 line he put up in his last season with the Tribe. Let's just hope that finger is finally healed, because at 27, there's still time for him to become a dynamic offensive player.

Dustin Pedroia
.284-10-72 in 619 at-bats; 47 doubles
And with these numbers comes a dilemma: Finding a place for an AL Rookie of the Year Trophy that's bigger than he is.

(Pitchers and other suspects coming up in tomorrow's post.)

And yet Aaron Sele is nowhere to be found

For no other reason than because we're seriously jonesing for some baseball right about now, we offer you this: a vaguely defined, completely subjective, semi-Rotisserie-oriented list of . . .

TEN PLAYERS WE LIKE IN '07


Coco Crisp, OF, Red Sox: Coming off excellent back-to-back seasons in Cleveland, he got off to a fast start in his first season with the Sox . . . then busted his finger, came back too soon, tried to do too much, struggled mightily, then busted the danged digit again. He's entering his prime at age 27, and with less pressure (Johnny who?) and less responsibility (he'll likely bat 7th or 8th), we're expecting Year 2 to be his Boston breakthrough.

Gary Sheffield, OF, Tigers: He's playing for a manager he respects, he's got a fat new contract, and he's motivated to stick it to a former employer, in this case Joe Torre and the Yankees. Ask me, that's long been the recipe for a monster season from Chris House's sparring partner.

Ryan Shealy, 1B-DH, Royals: There's a reason the Red Sox have always coveted him - he can rake. He'll club 30 homers if the Royals give him 500 at-bats.

Felix Hernandez, SP, Mariners: The phenom known as King Felix seemed weighed down with all the Doc Gooden-in-'84 comparisons entering last season . . . and he was weighed down further, so to speak, by a conditioning regimen that consisted of sleeping, engulfing Doritos, and watching TV. But he reportedly will report to spring training in fantastic shape, and if you've seen him pitch, you know he has the best stuff of any big-league pitcher not currently employed by the Minnesota Twins. And he's only 20. The sky remains the limit.

Jhonny Peralta, SS, Indians: He's 24 and stacked up .292-24-78 numbers in '05. So Omar Vizquel's successor can't possibly be as bad as he looked at the plate (.257-13-68) and the field (16 errors, Merloni-like range) last season . . . can he?

Ian Kinsler, 2B, Rangers: While your fantasy league homies slobber (justifiably) over future batting champion Howie Kendrick, it's this young, offensively gifted AL second baseman who might wind up being the draft-day bargain at second base.


Robinson Cano, 2B, Yankees: Call it hyperbole, but after watching him hit .342 with 15 homers at age 23 - and scaring the hell out of me every time he came up in a key situation against the Sox - I'm convinced he's going to be a lefthanded-hitting Paul Molitor. He may want to reconsider his wardrobe choices, however. Jeter sure does make his double-play partners wear some curious outfits.

Brad Hawpe, OF, Rockies: Given the unlikely ascension to fantasy superstardom of Matt Holliday and Garrett Atkins the past two seasons, we feel obligated to have at least one Coors Field hitter on this list, and the 26-year-old quietly put up .293-22-84 numbers last season.

Josh Beckett, SP, Red Sox: Provided new pitching coach John Farrell can drill through the sediment around his thick skull.

Aaron Harang, SP, Reds: Okay, so he was really a sleeper last year . . . but man, did anyone realize that the 28-year-old Oakland discard led the National League in strikeouts, and tied Derek Lowe among others for the league lead in wins? Talk about a quietly brilliant season.

. . . AND ONE WE DON'T

Trot Nixon, OF/Gimp, Cleveland: Nick Cafardo tells us Captain Dirty Cap "worked out harder this offseason that he has in many years." Well then, I'm convinced. Ol' No. 7 is absolutely poised for a monster comeba . . . whoa, wait a minute. Pardon my naivete, but I was under the impression real Dirt Dogs always kept in shape. You mean the back injury he got while driving was the result of him having a midsection that looked more like a keg than a six-pack? On second thought, good riddance, slug.

Closed for the summer

Appropriate ending when you think about it, what with circumstances conspiring to ruin something potentially memorable one last time. I could be talking about the small picture of Game 162 (Mother Nature washing out Devern Hansack's improbable no-hit bid) or the big picture of all 162 games (an ER's worth of ill-timed injuries derailing a bid for a fourth consecutive playoff berth). And of course, both the season and its finale ended sooner than we expected.

So now we must speak of this 86-win, third-place bummer of a season in the past tense. And while we'll save our deeper analysis and crackpot theories about What Went Wrong for another rainy day, let's spend a few words on the remaining players who made this season what it was, for better or worse:

CATCHERS
Jason Varitek.238, 12 HRs, 55 RBIs: Catchers notoriously decline offensively at age 32, and Varitek followed the well-worn pattern this season; he can't hit a good pitching anymore, and ideally, he'd bat eighth or ninth in the lineup at this point. But Lord, how he was missed when he was knocked out for a month by a knee problem. He's still a stalwart defensively, calls a good game and commands respect, and is worth every penny of his contract even when he's flailing at an eye-high fastball.

Doug Mirabelli.193-6-25: He was washed up last year . . . and yet I bet I Doug Mirabelli still thinks the Sox trade of Cla Meredith and Josh Bard for Doug Mirabelli and Doug Mirabelli's massive ego was a fantastic trade for the Red Sox. Yes, Doug Mirabelli brings new meaning to the phrase "tool of ignorance."

DESIGNATED HITTER
David Ortiz .287-54-137: What else can be said? When the games mattered, he made sure DH stood for Designated Hero. And when the season was lost, his successful bid to set the single-season franchise homer mark gave us reason to cheer again. When Papi's around, it's always a blast. Please don't take him for granted, because he's a once-in-a-fan's-lifetime gift.

INFIELDERS
Kevin Youkilis .279-13-72: He was so steady that it was easy to forget that this was really his first full season - and on top of establishing himself as an everyday player, he made the transition from third base to first with remarkable grace. The Eck noted tonight he thought Youks played Gold Glove defense. Given his immensely valuable ability to work the count and wear down pitchers, The Greek . . . er, Jewish God of Walks should be the leadoff hitter next season. Now if he'd just stop bitching after every called strike . . .

Mark Loretta .285-5-59: He's about as exciting as vanilla ice cream, he has the range of your grandmother's walker, and the stragglers from the Jeff Frye Admiration Society tend to exaggerate his contributions . . . yet he had his share of late-inning highlights, he catches everything hit his way and turns two with grace and precision, and he's still a tough out even though he's primarily a singles hitter these days. My verdict: Sign him for one more year, if he's willing, and let Pedroia shorten that swing down in Pawtucket.

Alex Gonzalez.255-9-50: I'm sorry, but he won't win the Gold Glove. Didn't you get the memo from McCarver? This is the year to fete Captain Jetes for all his excellent years in anonymity, and he's going to collect this award (among others) despite the fact that Gonzalez is the best defensive shortstop in the AL since Omar Vizquel had all his hair. It was a treat to watch him and Lowell turn the left side of the infield into Web Gem Central, and despite his particle board bat, I hope he's back in Boston next season if the price is right.

Mike Lowell .284-20-80: The best defensive third baseman the Sox have had since Butch Hobson (oh, c'mon, he was my boyhood hero; cut me some slack, people). Seriously, he was Gold Glove-worthy (as are Beltre, Crede, and Chavez), and while he was streaky, his final numbers at the plate are perfectly acceptable. I have a slight concern that he'll have a hard time repeating this output next season, but if the Sox keep Manny and get a legit No. 5 hitter, he won't be asked to do so much.

Alex Cora .238-1-18: He's bright, versatile, and despite a punchless offensive season, he's exactly what you want in a utility infielder. Keep him, I say.

Dustin Pedroia .191-2-7: Some see him as David Eckstein. Others as a young Jody Reed. So far, all I've seen is Brett Abernathy.

Carlos Pena .273-1-3: The Sox should have brought him in instead of J.T. Snow in the first place.

OUTFIELDERS
Manny Ramirez: .321-35-102: I plan on getting into the Manny Situation more in a future episode, so for now I'll leave it at this: If, during one of his patented midsummer tears next season for the Mets or Angels or whichever team the Sox award him to over the winter, some smug dinkus of a Boston sportscaster has the nerve to say, "Why can't we get players like that?" after spending the better part of six seasons trying to drive Manny away, well, I might just have to drive into Boston just to pull said sportscaster's hair plugs out with my bare hands.

Coco Crisp .264-8-36: So at least we know the truth: He was never healthy. I remember how wowed I was by him in spring training and during his pre-injury debut against the Rangers - he was electric - and despite the belief that he's no leadoff hitter, I hope he gets a second season to show his stuff in Boston. He deserves that much.

Trot Nixon .268-8-52: All right . . . I'll miss him. A little. If only for sentimentality's sake. His tenure with the Sox dates back to my college years, he did bust his ass and try to do the right thing, and as Roger Clemens and Rich Harden can attest, he had his moments in the clutch through the years. And of course, he was One of The 25, delivering the game-breaking hit in the World Series clincher. But the truth is that he's crumbled into an injury prone, underproductive, overpaid over-30 albatross, just the kind of player the Sox should be trying to distance themselves from. Trot was the Mike Greenwell of his era, albeit with an extra branch or two on the family tree, and like Greenie before him, his popularity outweighed his productivity near the end. It's time to tip the dirty hat and say goodbye.

Wily Mo Pena .301-11-42: It pains me to say this, because I was in agreement with the Arroyo deal and enjoyed watching Pena's occasional moonshots, but . . . I hope they trade him in the offseason. I have major doubts that he's ever going to develop the plate discipline and pitch-recognition skills to be a consistent hitter; he often looks as if he's made up his mind to swing before the pitch is delivered. And defensively, he reminds me of Kevin Mitchell circa '96, which means I cover my eyes, hope for the best, and usually witness the worst when the ball is hit his way.

Gabe Kapler .254-2-12: I hope he's still reporting to work at Fenway next season - as Eck's backup analyst on the pre- and post-game shows.

David Murphy .227-1-2: Eh. I can live with him as a fourth outfielder, but I'm skeptical that he'll develop enough power to justify a regular role for a playoff contender.

Eric Hinske .288-1-5: This year's version of Butch Huskey, an alleged slugger picked up late in the season who makes a habit of whiffing in crucial situations. But as a patient switch-hitter who historically mashes righties, he should be a useful stick off the bench next season.

STARTING PITCHERS
Curt Schilling 15-7, 3,97 ERA: He wasn't, as the song goes, as good as he once was, going six weeks without a win and developing a maddening habit of letting small leads slip away in the middle innings. But in the context of his lost 2005 season, 15 wins is a hell of a comeback.

Josh Beckett 16-11, 5.01: Greg Maddux once said the more trouble he is in, the slower he pitches, meaning he uses the hitters' aggressiveness against them. Something tells me Boston's version of Nuke LaLoosh would grunt and call Maddux a *&*%* for believing in that that philosophy. He needs to grow up and learn to pitch rather than throw, or the names Anibal Sanchez and Hanley Ramirez could haunt the Red Sox front office honchos the way Derek Lowe and Varitek did Woody Woodward.

Tim Wakefield 7-11, 4.63: The Sox dearly missed his bullpen-saving ability to eat multiple innings at a 4-something ERA clip, but now that he's 40 and coming off his first injury in years, it's time to start thinking about him as a fifth starter rather than as a third or fourth.

Julian Tavarez 5-4, 4.47: If the Sox were beginning the playoffs this week, he'd likely be your No. 3 starter. Chew on that for a moment.

Matt Clement 5-5, 6.61: I can't help but remember Gammons floating a notion at around this point last season that the Sox and Dodgers should consider a Clement for D-Lowe swap. How I wish they had.

Jon Lester 7-2, 4.76: We're all rooting for a victory more important than any he'll ever achieve on the ballfield. Get well, kid.

Jonathan Papelbon 4-2, 0.92, 35 saves: The Sox's collapse and his season-ending shoulder scare have cost Papelbon some of the plaudits he deserves for his historically dominant rookie season, and that's too bad, because he may have been the team's MVP in the first half. While he was virtually unhittable as a closer, at least until he grew weary late in the season, I'm glad the Sox are moving him to the rotation, if only because I'm a believer that it's wiser to use your best pitcher for 200 innings rather than 60. It will likely keep his arm in better condition, too. Prediction: Papelbon wins 17 games next season and is a better starter than any of the Zitos and Schmidts available as a free agent over the winter.

RELIEF PITCHERS
Keith Foulke 3-1, 4.35: Every season, there are always a few seemingly washed-up relievers who, for a variety of reasons, enjoy a major career rejuvenation. (Think: Wickman, Bob, and Jones, Todd.) I'm betting on Foulke to be one of those guys next season. I want him back.

Mike Timlin 6-6, 4..36: When you're 40 and you've pissed away the second half of the season getting lit up by the likes of Kevin Millar, it's time to start plannin' some possum huntin' expeditions for the summer months, if you get my drift.

Manny Delcarmen 2-0, 5.06: Everyone roots for the local boy to make good, but his command is too inconsistent and his fastball is too straight for Hyde Park's own to be considered anything more than a middle reliever at this point.

Craig Hansen 2-2, 6.63: Questions, I've got some questions: Where's the filthy slider that he supposedly used to torment the Big East? Have the Sox mishandled him to the point he's lost his stuff and his confidence? Is he familiar with the work of Calvin Schiraldi? He should start next season in Pawtucket with no pressure and no expectations, and work from there.

Javier Lopez: 1-0, 2.70: He doesn't throw enough strikes, and a lefty specialist who comes in and walks his lone batter is a useless as a Giambi without a chemistry set.

Kyle Snyder 4-5, 6.56: If only he hadn't sacrificed 7 miles per hour on his fastball to the blade of Dr. Andrews' knife. You can see why he was such a highly regarded prospect with Kansas City - his curveball is a legitimate out pitch, and his tailing changeup gives him decent secondary stuff - but unless he gets better command or regains a few m.p.h on the heater, he's nothing but an Arroyo wannabe.

Devern Hansack 1-1, 2.70: Well, that No-Hitter-With-An-Asterisk was certainly a hell of an audition for some role next season. Not only am I pulling for him, but having watched him pitch the Sea Dogs to the Eastern League title, I can say with a certain degree of confidence that he's got better stuff, command, and composure than quite a few established big league pitchers.

Kason Gabbard 1-3, 3.51: Another slopballing lefty who prays to the altar of Jamie Moyer. And yet . . . Jerry Remy is on record as being impressed with Gabbard, and he did pitch very well more often than not. I'm naturally skeptical of a guy who struggled for almost two full seasons in Double A, but he showed enough to earn a second job interview next spring.

OTHER SUSPECTS RUMORED TO BE PITCHERS
Mike Burns: Man, did the Pats show us something today or what? The whole Shutting Down An Offensive Juggernaut With a Shorthanded Defense was straight out of Belichick's 2003 championship blueprint, Maroney is an absolute beast, and Brady did his part to silence the shrill sky-is-falling nonsense from the Felgers of the world. Suddenly, I'm feeling very good about this team . . . and if you think I'm writing this because I wouldn't know Mike Burns if he ran off with my wife, you'd be correct.

Bryan Corey: He pitched well once earlier this season against the Sox while with Texas. So at least I can say I saw him pitch well once.

Kevin Jarvis: He didn't belong in the major leagues five years ago.

Lenny DiNardo: I'm beginning to think he has a lifetime contract as the 12th man on the staff. He's shown me nothing, and he has a World Series ring and some great tales as Bronson Arroyo's wingman to show for it.

Craig Breslow: He's better than Lopez. Then again, I think Tony Fossas would be an upgrade on both of them.

Javy Lopez is Dante Bichette with a catcher's mitt

. . . and five other semi-coherent thoughts regarding the Yawkey Way carnage . . .

1. I have a hard time coming to grips with Derek Jeter's legitimacy as an MVP candidate, for reasons you are probably familiar with by now: He's spent his entire career blessed with enormous riches in terms of teammates, he's never had to be THE GUY to carry a lineup, he smells like fresh-cut lillies with just a hint of watermelon, he's fawned over by the media to the point that his cultivated image has become the reality, etc., etc. But even the most irrational Jeterphobe must admit he was just plain brilliant in the big moments in the series, just as he has been in most every big moment throughout his Hall of Fame career. While I still believe Papi is the true MVP as long as the Sox don't quit - they would have, what, 10 fewer wins without his late heroics, and hey, you try winning with a lineup of Manny and the seven dwarves, Jetes - the Yankee captain's candidacy, for once, goes well beyond the intangible. What a player, what a season, what a series. But just to be clear, I still hope he gets hit by a meteor.

2. In the spirit of optimism (or maybe desperation), a few things that make this team worth watching, still: Dustin Pedroia's arrival . . . Mike Lowell's golden glove at third . . . the fearlessness of Jonathan Papelbon, who actually managed to be heroic in blowing the save the other night . . . Manny and Papi, walloping their way to history . . . Wily Mo's scary power (when he's up, the Monster seat patrons turn into ducks in a shooting gallery) . . . Schilling, throwing 95 mph heat on the black past Father Time . . . the majestic moonshots Josh Beckett so charitably gives up . . . Coco Crisp's Oscar-worthy thespian skills, for when he does fail to make a diving play, his wincing/limping/grimacing routine really does convince us that his career may indeed be over and amputation may be necessary. . . okay, I'm struggling here . . .

3. This Week's Reason Jerry Trupiano . . . Ah, hell. You know what? The Troop is so astoundingly, insultingly, mind-numbingly incompetent at this point, I'm not even going to waste the keystrokes going into deep detail here. It will just make me angry and I'll end up sucker punching the cat again, and we wouldn't want the furry fella to have to eat his Meow Mix through a straw. I'll just say that if you heard his call of Juicin' Giambi's 10th-inning homer the other night, you probably thought: 1) It was a fairly routine flyball, because there were no typical Troop "Way Back" histrionics; 2) That Crisp caught the ball; and, 3) That the jabbering idiot was the only one in the ballpark that didn't know it was gone, because in the middle of his confused call, 35,000 people groaned in unified agony. At this point, the Sox could pair Joe Castiglione with Gilbert Gottfried, and I'd consider it an aural improvement.

4. So is the conventional wisdom is that Manny bailed? Funny, it seems to me he's about the only one who showed up.

5. This happens more often than my inexplicably swollen ego would like me to admit: I get a day or two off from work, plan on writing something in-depth about whatever the drama of the day is in Boston sports . . . then I pick up the paper, and damned if ol' Ryan hasn't already put it all in perspective, with his inimitable passionate-yet-graceful phrasing and cut-to-the-chase common sense. Today's column was everything I wanted to say, only better said. Read it.

What, 10 runs ain't enough for ya, Timlin? . . .

. . . and five other semi-coherent (and rage-fueled) thoughts from the second disaster of the day . . .

1) Man, the Sox bullpen sucks. It's goddamn killing them, and there's not a thing you, me, Theo, Tito, the Eck, or Dick Radatz from beyond the grave can do about it. Craig Hansen, one year removed from the Big Freakin' East, should be honing his stuff at Pawtucket. Mike Timlin '06 looks like a righty version of Alan Embree '05. Rudy Seanez stinks, he pretty much has always stunk, and he never should have been signed. Julian Tavarez is one more player whose lack of mental toughness should have immediately convinced the Sox to cross him off their shopping list. Even Jonathan Papelbon, god bless him, looks weary, and I'm fairly sure prodigal savior Keith Foulke's last effective pitch came that magical October two years ago. There's no shame in getting bounced around by the Yankees - their lineup, even when it isn't entirely healthy, is a fearsome beast from top to bottom. But someone needs to be accountable for failing to put together a bullpen capable of coming through at least once in a while. (Tell me, again, why there was no place for Mike Myers on this team.) Right now, with this collection of meatball artists and arsonists, it's a miracle they're only 3 1/2 back.

2) The notion that Derek Jeter is a legitimate candidate for MVP of the American League is of course ridiculous, given the talent that surrounds (and outproduces) him. But man, did he ever outshine Big Papi tonight. Jeter's three-run go-ahead double in the seventh inning was vintage Jeter: he fouled off a couple biting fastballs, got the pitch he wanted, and whacked it with his patented inside-out cricket swing toward the Wily Mo Pena defensive circus in right. This time, the patented fist-pump-and-smirk combo was entirely justified, and the grapefruity scent of "Driven" filled the air at Fenway. Sometimes, my friends, you have to give the devil his due.

3) It can't tell if Jon Lester can't throw strikes or is afraid to throw strikes, but I'm sure as hell leaning toward the latter. Listen, kid: Throw. Thefrigginball. Over. The. Plate.

4) Remember my proclamation - oh, when was it, two days ago? - that I wasn't going to gripe about Coco Crisp anymore? Bleep that. The difference between Coco and Johnny Damon might ultimately be the difference between the Sox and Yankees in the AL East. I'm a Theo apologist - a task that is becoming harder and harder as I ponder all the Clements, Renterias and Seanezes that he's tortured us with - but even he cannot deny, at least on this day, that the Red Sox really screwed up by allowing Damon to defect.

5) The admirable Alex Cora had a fine night. So did Manny and Mark Loretta. And the Jimmy Fund collected over $2 million, with the pledges still coming in during the late hours. So what say we just end today's debacle on a positive note, and I'll be back at ya again today . . .

Nine innings: 08.16.06

Playing nine innings while vowing never to take Tim Wakefield or Jason Varitek for granted again . . .


1. So here we are, arriving at our annual Baseball Armageddon. The Sox are two games back and three in the loss column heading into today's much-needed offday, with the Yankees prancing and preening into Fenway tomorrow for what in preview appears to be a season-defining five-game set. While there is fun in the anticipation, I can't say I'm feeling particularly encouraged about the Sox' chances of taking, say, three of five and reassuring us that they plan on making the AL East race a photo finish. The Sox have looked way too much like the Pittsburgh Pirates lately, you know? Then again, David Wells's vintage victory over Justin Verlander and the Tigers tonight did restore some measure of my optimism, and maybe the Sox do intend to put their recent K.C.-Tampa debacle behind them and again begin playing like the team that owned the American League's second-best record for much of the summer. Had they again lost in a lifeless manner tonight, I may not have been able to resist the temptation to write this team off as fatally flawed, sluggish, pitching-poor, exposed as a pretender rather than a contender. But now, after watching Papi hit one more crucial home run, after seeing Jonathan Papelbon nail down his first easy save in some time, after watching the necessary Wells bleed another victory out of that blessed left arm . . . well, maybe the darkest clouds have passed and this team is about to find it's mojo again. Yeah, I know, I'm really taking a stand here, huh? Hey, with this schizophrenic team, your guess is as good as Theo's. We'll know the truth about their intentions in five days and, minimum, 45 innings from now. This much we are certain of: the rejuvenation couldn't arrive at a better time.

2. Seth Mnookin's "Feeding the Monster" didn't become a best-seller by accident. The thing was promoted to the point of saturation - by the time I actually read the book, I felt like I had already heard or read every key detail, whether the info came from an excerpt in the Globe Magazine or ESPN.com, an online chat, or during one of Mnookin's radio and TV appearances. The dude was everywhere - hell, I'm still waiting for the excerpt in "Tiger Beat." (Yep, still a subscriber.) That's not to say I didn't enjoy it (I did, with a few minor nits) and it certainly did have it's share of small revelations and reminders of details that escaped my memory. Two that made me raise my eyebrows: 1) Bill Mueller was among those unhappy with his playing time last season and even considered pursuing a trade. Guess he wasn't always the selfless saint he was portrayed as. 2) Theo damn near traded Derek Lowe for Matt Clement at the trade deadline in '04. Somehow, I think Buck, McCarver and the Fox nitwits would still be able to hammer us over the head with Curse of the Bambino references had that trade been consummated.

3. Maybe it's because I still vividly remember that heartbreaking picture of him consoling Tim Wakefield after Game 7 in '03, but Mike Timlin has always seemed to me to be the I-got-your-back type, a loyal and accountable teammate, one never to make excuses for his own failings. So I have to say his comments about the Sox offense needing to score more runs were as disappointing as they were disingenuous. You'd think he'd realize that the Sox hitters might be more productive if they got to fatten up their stats against the BLEEPIN' PATHETIC RED SOX BULLPEN like the rest of the league does!!! Geez, the hubris.

4. The next time you catch me beeyatching about Coco Crisp in this space, please, remind me of a couple of things: 1) I was so giddy about his performance in the spring and pre-injury that I got all Peter King-on-Favre about him, waved my pompons and bleated that he was charismatic, electric, and would own the city of Boston. 2) The broken knuckle very likely is still affecting him at the plate, and to his credit, he hasn't used it as an alibi once. 3) He's been pretty damn good lately - he chipped in with a go-ahead two-run double and a key bunt tonight - and maybe the best is yet to come. This isn't to say I don't have my complaints about him or wonder if we were slightly misled regarding his true abilities, but I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt for now. He could be the wild card.

5. If I hadn't seen him play previously, I'd be suspicious that Sal Fasano is really a composite of all Yankees fans, created in a cloning lab in the bowels of Yankee Stadium by Steinbrenner's minions.

6. About the grating doofus in the booth during the Sox telecast the other night (and I don't mean Orsillo this time): Does anyone other than Lenny Clarke actually find Lenny Clarke funny? Why the hell hasn't someone told him that loud doesn't equate to humorous? Denis Leary must be a good and loyal friend to let this punchline-challenged blowhard ride on his coattails all these years.

7. Regarding Jason Giambi's alleged mustache, a topic of mockery on PTI tonight: Is he actually attempting to grow that thing, or is it a side effect? With his scientifically swollen build and disconcerting facial hair, looks like a female East German swimmer from the '84 Olympics.

8. Well, looks like some reinforcements are on the way. The Sox signed former Tigers (and Northeastern) first baseman Carlos Pena tonight, the Jays' Eric Hinske is reportedly on the way though NESN didn't confirm it after the game, and there are multiple rumors that the Sox will acquire reliever LaTroy Hawkins from the Orioles in the next day or two. My take? I like the Pena signing - he's got some pop, is excellent defensively, and still has time to live up to his potential. It's a low-risk, high-reward gamble. Hinske? He's due something like $5 million last year, which is a lot of money for someone who seems to regress at little more each season. But he mashes righties, and the Sox are desperate for a decent lefty stick off the bench (though it should be Trot Nixon, assuming he can recover from his latest bizarre injury). As for Hawkins, he's the classic million-dollar arm, plug-nickel head. He throws in the mid-'90s, but he's got a well-deserved rep as the guy you do not want on the mound in a crucial situation. But I suppose he can't be any worse than Seanez or Tavarez, right? As far as spare parts go, it's not a bad haul.

9. As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



Daddy Wags. Get it? C'mon, indulge me just one more hackneyed reference to fatherhood here. Please?

Royal pain

That's not "Cops" guest star Maurice Clarett. That's me after tonight's Red Sox debacle. Cripes, talk about feeling bleepin' maced and tasered.

Now, I think most of you TATB regulars would agree that I'm usually pretty clear-headed, even optimistic, about the Sox. But right now . . . well, it's 3:23 a.m., they've lost two walnut-crushers to the Triple-A Royals in a row, my commute home from work took a Big Dig-inspired detour through freakin' New Jersey, and I'm feeling pretty damn irrational at the moment.

No, I definitely am not in the mood to attempt to soberly and coherently answer any questions about this slumping and slumbering team. Instead, I'm going to ask a few of my own for once:

• Why did Joey Gathright, a martial arts black belt and all-around ass-kicker if he so chooses, have to prove a peaceful warrior and not beat the living hell out of Julian Tavarez when the lunatic Sox reliever sucker-punched him in spring training? Can you imagine the pain we as Sox fans would have been spared had Gathright unleashed the pain on Tavarez when he had the chance?

• Why are hitters as pedestrian as Esteban Friggin' German suddenly teeing off on Jonathan Papelbon's fastball? Has he lost velocity? Did he borrow Beckett's? Is he tiring? Or are his recent semi-struggles (the kid's ERA still is under 1.00, after all) merely a hiccup in the long season rather than an alarming trend?

• We all know Joe Castiglione sounds like his family pet died when the Sox lose ("PAHHH-ped him up . . . this'll do it . . . sigh"). So after four agonizing defeats in a row, might he be distraught enough to shove the increasingly insufferable Jerry Trupiano out of the booth? Will Uncle Joe finally snap tonight, when Troop obliviously tries to regale us with his all-royalty team in the ninth inning of a tense one-run game? ("You'd have to have Jeff King, of course . . . heh-heh . . . and Mel Queen would be the pitching coach . . . guffaw . . .")

• Has Javy Lopez ever caught in the major leagues before? Really? More than 1,300 games? Huh. Are you sure it's the same Javy Lopez? For sure? Because this guy looks like he's trying to catch the ball with a boxing glove.

• How come Josh Beckett couldn't go seven? Or even eight? Doesn't Tito know his bullpen is engulfed in flames?

• Could Mike Lowell have picked a worse time to revert to his feeble 2005 Marlins form? And will he come out of it, or was the first-half rejuvenation really a mirage?

• Why would anyone ever give Papi anything to hit in any situation? Just walk him, deal with Manny, breeze through the other seven duds, and there you have a recipe for shutting down the Sox these days, no?

• I know Coco Crisp is the fastest member of Red Sox Nation ("Dad!"), but how come no one told me he'd appear to be the most indifferent too? And why the hell is he playing so shallow in the ninth-inning of a one-run game?

• How the hell are they going to fix this 'pen before the winter? How? And I know relief pitching is a crapshoot, but is Theo ever going to build a deep bullpen?

All right, that's it for now. Feel free to rant in the comments or attempt to talk me off the ledge or whatever. I'm going to bed before I get the urge to kill a drifter or a middle reliever or something . . .

Chasing the headlines

Questions/I've got some questions . . .



• Feeling bad for A-Rod yet?

Considering ol' blue lips made more $$$$$$ in the time it took me to write that sentence than I'll make in the next 10 years, uh, no, I'm not feeling bad for Slappy McWhippingboy. The story is relentlessly fascinating, though. First, it's almost as if the soulless New York tabloid media (and to an extent, the Yankees' counterproductive fans) are on his case in part just to see how far they can push him. It's almost like they want to break him, want him to turn into another Knoblauch before their eyes, want him to feel unworthy, want to run perhaps the most talented player in baseball out of town for no other reason than because he is not Derek Jeter-McCarver, Captain of All Things Intangible. There's something voyeuristic and intensely cruel about what's happening here. I've always thought it was a matter of time before A-Rod seized the moment and carried the Yankees to a playoff series victory or two - and then I realized he'd already done it, against the Twins in '04, and everyone was too busy getting gauzy camera angles of Jeter's reactions to notice. Because of the burden of expectations, his monster contract and his calculated, insincere persona, A-Rod gets no leeway or credit for anything he has accomplished - it's what's expected of him, after all. So here is now, strangling the bat, grinding the damn thing into sawdust in his hands, trying to hit a five-run homer and wondering what the hell he's supposed to do. Here he is now, slinging air-mailed throws into the first base boxes, consulting one more quack psychologist, and spending sleepless nights asking why he ever agreed to change positions for that smirking jerk to the left, the alleged captain who defended Giambi but so tellingly refused to defend him. It's a colossal mess, and while as a Red Sox fan I hope he continues to submarine the Yankees, as a baseball fan I hope he gets his ---- straight, because it would be a shame for his talent to be devoured by the jackals. Let's just hope by the time he gets it together - if he gets it together - he's playing for the Phillies, or somewhere else far from this rivalry.


• What the hell did Harold Reynolds do to get fired by ESPN?

That's the question of the day. No one seems to know right now, but it must have been a doozy. Consider: This is the network that employs Mike Tirico, a serial sexual harasser if Mike Freeman's ESPN: An Uncensored History is to be believed. This is the network that employs Steve Phillips, who settled a sexual harassment suit while he was the general manager of the Mets in '98. This is the network that gave Rick Sutcliffe (bleep-faced on the air), Gary Miller (unleashed his bladder on a cop) and Michael Irvin (that's not my crack pipe, officer!) slaps on the wrist after particularly high-profile public embarassments. It's sort of a bummer, because while Reynolds wasn't exactly the most insighful analyst we've ever heard ("If you keep the ball down, you're going to pitch a no-hitter"), he was pleasant enough, clearly loves baseball, and wasn't an ignorant, screaming narcissist like, oh, I don't know, EVERYONE ELSE IN GOD-FORSAKEN BRISTOL! So he must have committed a pretty serious transgression to get canned. Probably refused to subscribe to ESPN Mobile or something.

• So who should "Baseball Tonight" hire to replace Reynolds?

Why, the Eck, of course. But considering they were stupid enough to hire Kruller Kruk over him in the first place, I imagine the best baseball analyst around will remain planted alongside Tom Caron for the foreseeable future. Hey, Sam Horn is available. And they can have Jim Rice, whom I'm pretty sure doesn't actually watch the games.

• Did you happen to catch Tony Gwynn's appearance on "The Best Damn Sports Show" a few days ago?

Yup, flipping channels, because I would never admit to watching that creepy, faux-camaraderie abomination on purpose. Man, it was shocking - Gwynn was pleasantly plump as a player, but now he looks like he swallowed the San Diego Chicken whole. Seriously, someone needs to say something to him before another beloved player of my generation goes the tragic way of Kirby Puckett. He's that fat.

• Why did Coco leap at the wall for Adrian Beltre's inside-the-park home run when it was five feet behind him?

Because Coco's GPS tracking system as a center fielder is severely defective. Does he ever take the proper route to a ball? It's like watching Bernie Williams before he turned completely to stone - his good speed usually makes up for atrocious instincts. But when it doesn't, it gets Hoseyesque.

• Were you surprised that Shea Hillenbrand napalmed his bridges in Toronto? He always seemed like a decent guy in Boston.

Let's put it this way. Someone I know who's around the Sox on a regular basis says Hillenbrand is the dumbest person he's ever met. Not professional athlete, mind you. Person. Even by the lowbrow standards of a baseball clubhouse, Hillenbrand has long been considered tactless and crude - you might recall him going on the radio and calling Theo a Guillen word for Mariotti upon his trade to Arizona in '03 - and even his friends (such as the dignified Vernon Wells) admit that it takes a long time knowing him to realize he's not a complete jerk. It's funny, when he made the Sox unexpectedly out of camp in 2001, he had sort of a wide-eyed, Opie-from-Mayberry persona. By most accounts, that lasted about a month, or as long as it took for all the scuzzbags on that team to convince him that real big leaguers were supposed to have a sense of entitlement and bitch about everything. Is it any wonder he still counts Carl Everett among his best friends in baseball? I don't know if Hillenbrand believes in dinosaurs. But I'm pretty sure he plays with toy ones.

• You claim to like Neyer and James a lot, but you don't use stats that often. Gimme a couple off the top of your head, Stat Boy.

Neyer and James - wasn't that a wine cooler back in the day? I think it's A-Rod's drink of choice if I recall correctly - Blue-Lippin' Blueberry, right? Anyway, got a couple:

1. "Light-hitting" Alex Gonzalez has two more home runs than Jeter (or, if you prefer, Trot Nixon. What was it that Trot was doing differently back when he had power, anyway?) And by the way, Sutcliffe blathered again last night that Jeter is the best defensive shortstop in the AL. Yup, I'm pretty sure he was drinking on their air again. You, me and A-Rod know that Gonzo is so much better than Jeter it's not even worth debating.

2. In his 13 wins, Josh Beckett has an ERA below 2.50 and a WHIP below 1. So while the 'EEI mouthbreathers and banshees can claim that he's been a bust, the fact is that when he's good - and he's been good enough to lead the majors in wins - he is dominating. (Of course, that also means he has been getting absolutely shellacked when he loses . . . but still, let me make my point, will ya?) As you've probably figured, I couldn't be happier with the three-year, $30 million dollar deal he signed last week. It locks up a talented young potential ace through his prime seasons at a very reasonable price (the less talented, less accomplished A.J. Burnett got two years and $25 million dollars more as a free agent), and Beckett gets a little bit of security and the comfort of knowing he's going to spend the next three seasons pitching in a place he enjoys. It's currently a win-win situation, with many more wins to come.

• The Sox are 2.5 up on the Yankees. Confident this is the year they win the East?

Confident, yes. Convinced . . . not quite. I think the Yankees will do something big before the deadline - my money is on a deal for Bobby Abreu, hopefully with Brian Cashman caving in and giving up prized Double A pitcher Philip Hughes. It would be a classic Yankees move - getting a big-name, big-money player who isn't entirely necessary and would detract from the already questionable chemistry (who sits when/if Sheffield and Matsui come back?) While Abreu is an on-base machine, he left his power at the 2005 Home Run Derby, and his nonchalance on the bases makes Manny look like Pete Rose. They can have him. As far as the Sox go, they obviously need to find a fifth starter, though I'm thinking there might be some validity in Jason Varitek's touting of Kyle Snyder. The stork version of Bronson Arroyo really does have good stuff - a legtimately above-average 12-to-6 curve, a tailing, sinking fastball, and enough command to spot his upper 80s heater. You can see the traces of the pitcher who was a high first-round pick a half-decade ago. If he could stay healthy and build up his stamina to get past the fifth inning once in a while, I think the Sox may have found something here. But if it doesn't work out, I wouldn't be surprised to see Theo make a trade for someone such as Jon Lieber, who's struggled for the Phillies this year but pitched very well for the Yankees in the '04 postseason. I never understood why the Yankees signed him after Tommy John surgery, paid for his year of rehab, then sent him on his way the season after they began reaping some rewards from their investment. But back to the main point, I think the Sox are the better team, and with a few minor tweaks here and there, that superiority will be reflected in the season's final standings.

• Finally . . . why is A-Rod holding that friggin' guitar?

Because, A-Rod rocks, yo! Actually, Bernie told him it would make him look sensitive. Also, he plans to smash it over Jeter's head when no one's looking. Then he can play shortstop again and everyone will love him, he just knows it.