I think I'll go to Boston/I think I'll start a new life

Some nearly coherent wee-hours thoughts on today's nearly completed blockbuster trades . . .


CELTICS TRADE FIVE PLAYERS AND TWO DRAFT PICKS TO MINNESOTA FOR KEVIN GARNETT

Do I like it? . . . Let's put it this way: It's late July, the Sox are in first place, the absolutely stacked Patriots are kicking off training camp, and all anyone was talking about this afternoon was the Celtics . . . C'mon, how can any Celtics fan not love this? All I've wanted these past few years was for this franchise to again become entertaining, good, and relevant, and Garnett makes them all three the very first minute he puts on a green and white uniform . . . Yes, we all liked Al Jefferson a lot, and there is a chance that the T-Wolves could get a franchise-salvaging bounty out of this deal, particularly if Gerald Green ever has the maturity and dedication to match his ability . . . And yes, we know there is more than a little risk in trading the future for a 31-year-old who has worn a lot of tread off his Nikes . . . But I tend to think the majority of people who are skeptical of this trade are the same ones who stopped following the Celtics around the time the Bad Boys Pistons began to reign . . . They're okay with the Celtics' descent into irrelevance, and they probably know Garnett only from the "SportsCenter" highlights, and maybe a commerical or two ("All nude. But tastefully done.") . . . They don't realize that Garnett might be the most dedicated superstar in the game, a selfless, driven, all-around force who plays as hard in a mid-January grinder in Utah as he would against Tim Duncan in the second round of the playoffs. Garnett cares, dammit, and he plays his heart out every freakin' night no matter what . . . Maybe this is hyperbole brought on by the joy and magnitude of the moment, but no matter, because I believe it to be true: Through sheer force of will, Garnett is capable of restoring Celtic Pride, and the alleged and lapsed Celtics fans who don't know this about him are going to be leaping on the bandwagon once they realize what a treat it is to watch this guy play night after night . . . And it will only benefit the Celtics that for all he's accomplished individually in his career, you get the sense that the situation in Minnesota was eating away at him. Despite his most valiant efforts, Minnesota was always undermanned against the iron of the Western Conference . . . With the exception of his brief run with Sam Cassell and Latrell Sprewell, he was always trying to battle the Spurs and the Lakers and the Suns while stuck playing with the Troy Hudsons and Marco Jarics and rosters full of second-tier talent . . . It wasn't fair. And now he comes to Boston and gets to play with Paul Pierce and Ray Allen, who immediately become the two best teammates he's ever had, and who also should complement his skills beautifully? Can you imagine how motivated he must be to prove that he can be a champion if given the proper support? I never, ever thought I'd say this in July, but I simply cannot wait for the NBA season to begin . . . So then, what prompted him to decide that Boston wasn't so bad after all? . . . The Allen deal changed everything, obviously, not only regarding the Celtics' approach to the future - Youth movement? What youth movement? - but with Garnett's perception of the franchise. I think once he knew for sure he wasn't going to his first choice, Phoenix, once he realized there was an easier path to playoff success in the Eastern Conference, once the Celtics dumped his old nemesis Wally Szczerbiak, and once Pierce and Allen began badgering him relentlessly about being their third amigo, he came to the conclusion that this might be a fine fit for him after all . . . Now, of course we do feel bad for Big Al, who by all accounts is devastated by the deal, probably in part because it dawned on him that he'll have to play with the one and only Tyree Ricardo "Ricky" Davis and that scumbag Mark Blount again . . . I'll miss watching him, too. His instincts and old-school moves around the hoop made him something of a throwback. Is it any wonder that Kevin McHale adores him? . . . And I do wish they could have made the deal work without including Ryan Gomes. While he'll never be a star, his smarts and versatility make him appealing, and I thought his ultimate niche would be as a valuable seventh or eighth man on a championship contender . . . The pressure just intensified on Rajon Rondo, that's for sure. Garnett has a low tolerance for youthful screwups, and for all of his breathtaking ability as a playmaker, slasher and defender, Rondo is maddeningly inconsistent, and he remained so in the Summer League. I hope he's ready for this . . . Kevin Garnett, power forward, Boston Celtics. Amazing . . . So when will Michael Wilbon be issuing his apology?

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RANGERS DEAL MARK TEIXEIRA TO BRAVES; RED SOX PURSUE JERMAINE DYE

Looks like my hope that Teixeira would come to Boston and help Manny and Papi anchor the Sox lineup through October and beyond is a few dotted i's and crossed t's from being nothing more than an unfulfilled daydream . . . (Sigh) . . . I have to admit it appears Rangers GM Jon Daniels made out pretty well, all things considered. He got Atlanta's top two position prospects, and apparently will also receive two of their top three pitching prospects. And Saltalamacchia, one of the few elite catching prospects in baseball, is a better player than anything the Sox should or would have been willing to offer, though my hunch is that if the Sox had been willing to give up Clay Buchholz, Teixeira would be having a press conference at Fenway Tuesday afternoon . . . Not that I'm suggesting the Sox should have done that, of course . . . The fascinating thing will be seeing how this all pans out for the Rangers in a few years. While the Braves were clearly dealing from a position of strength and probably gave up Saltalamacchia only because of the presence of young All-Star incumbent Brian McCann, Atlanta GM John Schuerholz rarely makes a wrong move when it comes to deciding which prospects to keep and which ones to deal. (Somewhere, Andy Marte nods his head in agreement while engulfing a creme horn for breakfast). Saltalamacchia looks like the real deal, but Schuerholz's sterling track record should cause at least a shadow of a doubt . . . So with Teixeira headed for the Braves, where do the Sox turn? . . . My prediction is that White Sox GM Kenny Williams will blink and the Red Sox will get Jermaine Dye for a second-tier prospect at or around 3:59 p.m. today, though I wouldn't be shocked if Theo compromised and offered, say, Michael Bowden, who I think has been passed by the ascending and untouchable Justin Masterson on the prospect scale . . . Call me a conspiracy theorist, but I think the reason the Sox allegedly assured Dye that he would play five days a week in Boston is not because they're going to bench J.D. Drew, but because Dye's arrival might preclude a trip to the disabled list and/or the operating table for David Ortiz. Papi is such a mess right now at the plate that it's disconcerting, and there simply has to be more wrong than we are aware of. I would not be shocked if he has that torn meniscus operated on should Dye come here. Dye would, theoretically, ease the temporary loss (four weeks, most likely) of Papi from the lineup, and Boston's cushion in the division is big enough that they might at least consider shutting down Papi to have him healthy for the postseason . . . One more thing about Dye: He is not, contrary to reputation among certain members of the media, a good defensive outfielder. Yes, he won a Gold Glove, and he has a right fielder's arm, but years of leg problems have resulted in him running like he's on stilts, and he's been an adventure at Fenway Park for years dating back to Game 4 of the 2003 ALCS. Now, I'm not suggesting he's as inept as Wily Mo, but he's not good. Fortunately, if he does come here and Papi doesn't end up going on the DL, then the Sox will have a certain $70 million defensive replacement to help him out . . . Bottom line: Give me Dye and, oh, Eric Gagne for a couple random Sea Dogs and PawSox by 4 p.m. today, and maybe that will take my mind off basketball for a few moments.

Do not bat this man second

First, the praise: I admired Jerry Remy as a kid, and still do. He was the speedy second baseman on those late-'70s Sox teams that hooked me for life, the Fall Rivah kid living the dream. And for all of his huckster tendencies as a broadcaster, he's a superior analyst to every last one of the national nitwits, and he gets bonus points for bringing out the personality in Don Orsillo, who we still suspect is really a vinyl-covered automaton programmed to repeat old Sean McDonough soundbites at the appropriate times.

So, yeah, I'm staunchly pro-RemDawg. It's just . . . well, I recently discovered that he was a really bad offensive player. I mean, really bad. How really bad? Let's put it this way: Remy's career OPS of .655 is exactly .004 points lower than Alex Cora's. I think I understand Remy's verbal fawning over Cora now. Remy might be built more like Dustin Pedroia, but he knows Pedroia has more pure hitting ability than he ever did. He sees his reflection as a player in Cora.

Now about those stats - they're about as attractive as Tawny Kitaen's mugshot. (Click at your retinas' risk, Coverdale.) I first became aware of them a week or so ago when the Hollywood Sports Guy made a crack about Remy's career OPS, and I checked them out further while doing some research for this week's Fox column on the feeble '75 Angels, who hit 55 (yes, 55) home runs as a team. You probably knew that Remy hit just 7 career homers in his 10 seasons, since he jokes about it often with the OrsilloBot. But did you know that he had a career OPS+ of 82? That he was in the top 10 in caught stealing four times, including 21 times against 34 successes with the '75 Angels? That he was in the top 10 in outs four times? That his on-base percentage was .327? That his slugging percentage was .328? Not only was he unproductive, but he was remarkably inefficient.

Don Zimmer did a lot of indefensible things in '78 (running off the Buffalo Heads, playing a woozy Dewey Evans, starting Bleepin' Icewater Bobby Sprowl, sticking with injured, scatterarmed Butch Hobson . . . ah, hell, you get the point), but batting Remy and his .321 on-base percentage in the No. 2 spot in front of Rice, Lynn, and Fisk might have been the dumbest. It's like Zimmer had a metal plate in his head or something. It's a wonder his egregious lineup construction didn't lead to him getting taken hostage by a 10-year-old Rob Neyer.

I realize it was a different game then. The ballparks were bigger, the ballplayers were smaller, and second base, save for the great Joe Morgan, the criminally underrated Bobby Grich, and a couple of others, wasn't regarded as an offensive position. Second base was for the gritty, gutty gamers, the runts and the bunters, the pre-Ecksteins, if you will.

Which explains, I suppose, why Remy, despite his puny numbers, accomplished enough in his career to be rated the 100th-best second baseman of all-time in The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract. (Hey, to be ranked in the top 100 ever at anything is a compliment, even if Remy comes in 21 spots below Yankee punchline Horace Clarke). Wrote James:

When Remy was playing for El Paso in 1974, he wondered aloud if he would ever make it to the major leagues. His manager, Dave Garcia, overheard him and said, "Listen, do you know who is playing second base for the Angels?"

"Denny Doyle," said Remy

"Who runs better, you or Denny?" asked Garcia

"I do," said Remy.

"Who throws better?"

"I do."

"Who hits better?"

"I do," said Remy.

"Well then," said Garcia, "you're going to the major leagues."

Remy took Doyle's job with the Angels in '75 . . . then replaced him in Boston after coming over in a deal in the winter of '77. So it's all relative, right? There are a lot of second baseman who were worse than the 100th best. Doyle's on that list, somewhere.

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Other notes scribbled in the margins:

• Considering he's the NFL's fourth all-time leading rusher, you'd think Curtis Martin's retirement this week would have merited more attention. I guess there's no time to appropriately salute one of the classiest and accomplished players in recent league history when a certain network's NFL airtime is alloted entirely to a flashy but second-rate quarterback's cruel way with animals. Fortunately, Newsday's Bob Glauber hit the mark with this tribute; Martin's quiet grace, on the field and off, was overshadowed in this day and age in which police lights and the spotlight are often indistinguishable. Even if his football legacy is mostly with the Jets, I'll always remember him as one of my favorites for his three terrific seasons with the Patriots. It's funny to recall now that early in his rookie season, after he scored the winning touchdown against the Browns, Bill Parcells warded off the media hype by saying, "Don't put the kid in Canton quite yet, fellas." Who would have thought then that the Hall of Fame eventually would beckon?

• I might as well say it, because it's become the truth: When Papi comes to the plate with the game hanging in the balance in the late innings, I'm no longer confident, let alone certain, that he's going to come through. And that makes me sad, in a melancholic sort of way. I'm not ready for that era to be over yet.

• Who's NOW? I mean, you're kidding me, right? Bob Ley must weep for what ESPN has become.

• Nice of Wily Mo Pena to tantalize us with his breathtaking, maddening talent once more before he departs. Or did last night's performance and Nick Cafardo's nice piece Thursday about how hard he works and how much his teammates believe in him give you pause about giving up on him now?

• Well, it sure looks like the wheels are coming off my Mark Teixeira-for-Jon Lester bandwagon. The offer Atlanta supposedly made to Texas for the 27-year-old slugger includes catching phenom Jarrod Saltalamacchia (another player the Sox should covet), and I doubt Theo Epstein could trump that offer without including Clay Buchholz, who should not and will not be going anywhere. Teixeira is exactly what the Sox need (check out Mike Lowell's career first- and second-half splits and try not to cringe), but at the moment, the price seems much too high to make it happen.

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As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



"Man, that job-stealing Remy punk is really starting to *&%^ me off."

Nine innings: 05.21.07

Playing nine innings while hunching that Manny is about to break out of it big-time in the Bronx . . .

1. Ten-and-a-half games? Nice, but not enough. Not nearly enough. When these three games are over, I want the Yankees reeling. I want the deficit at 13.5 games come Wednesday night. A month from now, I want it at 20-something, and by September, I want them chasing the Devil Rays. I want them blasted in the 120-point headlines on the back and front pages of the Post and Daily News. I want George "Weekend at Bernie's" Steinbrenner's publicist issuing harshly worded press releases chock-full of unintentional comedy. I want the newly unemployed Joe Torre sitting on his porch in Hawaii, wondering where it all went so wrong and if his legacy is irreparably damaged. I want the Rocket to have second thoughts and a convenient hamstring "tweak." I want Matt DeSalvo and Tyler Clippard to realize they aren't Aaron Small, 2005. I want Suzyn Waldman muted. I want Brian Cashman to wish he'd gone to nursing school like he secretly dreamed. I want A-Rod to bicker behind the scenes with Derek Jeter while counting the days until he escapes . . . er, opts out. I want Robinson Cano to continue his Chuck Knoblauch impression, I want Johnny Damon to continue hemorraging body parts, and I want Mariano Rivera to mournfully long for those golden days when no one could touch his cutter. Is that too much to ask? Well, yeah, probably. But you get the point. For once, the Sox have a chance to deliver an early-season blow that the Yankees may not be able to recover from; if the Sox can rough them up over the next three days, the aftermath in the Bronx is going to be gruesome. So why not daydream big? It might make it all the sweeter should it become reality.

2. All right, I'll admit it. My pre-Boston perception of Julian Tavarez couldn't have been more wrong. I thought he was a hothead, a lunatic, a selfish clubhouse cancer and unpopular teammate who didn't particularly care about winning. Oh, he's still a hothead and a lunatic, but it's become apparent that he's an endearing and extremely well-liked hothead/lunatic, one whose tantrums usually are the direct result of his frustration with letting his teammates down. It's funny, but he has many of the same characteristics, both positive and self-destructive, as Oil Can Boyd had back in the day. From his comical one-sided dugout chats with Dice-K to his part-time gig as Manny's unofficial spokesman to his willingness to pitch in any role and situation that the team requests of him, it's clear that Tavarez and the Red Sox are a good fit. Who knew? Surely not me.

3. Where have you gone, Dennis Eckersley? Maybe I've just had the coincidental misfortune of missing the Eck's NESN studio appearances recently, but it seems to me the likes of Dave McCarty, Jim Rice and Ken Macha have been getting more airtime lately. Even Jack Welch has been coming down from the Muppets balcony to throw his ill-informed two cents in. (Or two billion cents, given that's probably what he's paying for the privilege.) No Eck? This is not a good thing. With the Sox in the Bronx and the anticipation running high, I'd better see the original slickermaster on my TV tonight, offering the sharp insight and unfiltered opinions that make him the best baseball analyst there is, including everyone currently employed in Bristol, Conn. The Eck retired from pitching nine years ago, but in his second career, he's still the go-to guy in a big game.

4. It seems like every lefthander with a fastball that probably wouldn't earn a speeding ticket is labeled The Next Jamie Moyer, particularly if said lefty has a quality breaking pitch, a sneaky changeup, and the requisite savvy to make batters look foolish despite a limited repertoire. And while that probably does Moyer a disservice, given that he's pitched his way to 220 major-league wins while so many Kevin Mortons have come and gone, I must admit that they more I see of Kason Gabbard, the more I think he can be one of those shrewd, successful southpaws - yes, in the Moyer mold - who seems to find a way to win without ever overwhelming anyone. He couldn't have been more impressive Sunday, and he's been a consistently effective pitcher for over a full season now. Considering Terry Francona is an unabashed fan, I'm guessing we haven't seen the last of Gabbard in Boston.

5. Jason Giambi is in a 1-for-26 slump. And the Yankees, who curiously okayed his agent's request to omit all contract language regarding performance enhancing drugs when they originally signed him, are rumored to be looking for a way out of Juicin' G's deal after his mildly incriminating comments about steroid use this week. Hmmm . . . this cycle, so to speak, sounds vaguely familiar. I fully expect a miraculously rejuvenated Giambi to hit, say, 12 home runs next month, then tell us his sudden power surge is due to his decision to quit eating cheeseburgers for breakfast, or some other such nonsensical attempt to obscure the truth.

6. While the eminently likable Wily Mo Pena has occasionally mixed in a prodigious home run or two among his numerous strikeouts and fielding mishaps, it's fair to say he's probably not going to approach his potential until he escapes this growth-stunting bench role in Boston. He needs to get 550 at-bats for a team with no real postseason aspirations, one that can afford to let him learn certain hitting skills on the job, such as how to recognize a slider before it hits the dirt. Unless J.D. Drew runs into another wall or Manny's hamstring starts barking, there's little he can do to contribute to the cause here. I bet he's gone at the trade deadline for a better-fitting piece.

7. Saw this on the always insightful Fragile Freddy blog, and thought it was such a smart and original idea that I'd pilfer it for myself: If he hasn't already, Theo Epstein should contact the Braves about Jarrod Saltalamacchia, their outstanding catching prospect who is stuck behind Brian McCann, and see if perhaps the Sox can put together a package to bring the just-turned-22-year-old to Fenway. Saltalamacchia is rarity in that he's a legitimately elite prospect both behind and at the plate, and with Jason Varitek now 35, and George Kotteras struggling mightily at Pawtucket, the Sox are somewhat desperate for a legitimate catching successor. I doubt the Braves would trade their consensus top prospect unless they received a ransom in return . . . but you have to figure they will move him at some point, and the Sox are as reasonable a destination as any.

8. We like to break this out every now and then, just for the sake of good karma. (And also because it will never, ever get old.)

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


Larry Wayne Jones is 35? Really? Geez, as if my rickety bones don't feel old enough these days. I suppose he has been around for a long time now, but seems like just yesterday the Braves were getting spindled and mutilated by the Baseball America types for choosing a Florida kid nicknamed Chipper over can't-miss Texas high school pitcher Todd Van Poppel . . . who, of course, did miss, spectacularly.