New York groove

Playing nine innings while waiting for J.D. Drew to take the damn bat off his shoulder . . .

1. I've been reluctant to declare American League East race ovah, for two reasons: First, there is a tendency among certain media members to race to become the first to pronounce the Yankees dead . . . and then, when they inevitably crawl out of the crypt, history is somehow revised and spun so that it was really the numbskull fans who were the ones claiming matters were settled when there were 60 games remaining. The habit is as transparent as it is annoying, and I don't want to be one to fall into that trap. Besides, while it would be a nice little milestone to win the AL East for the first time since '95, we all know that all that really matters is getting to the postseason. So I'm waiting to see the cold corpse of the Yankees' playoff hopes before I deliver any gleeful eulogies. As for the second reason, well, basically it's this: I have been, to quote Arthur Fonzarelli, wr-wr-wr-wr-wrong about so much this year - from my skepticism of jockey-like Dustin Pedroia's ability to hit major league pitching to the certainty of a Mike Lowell annual second-half collapse to my willingness to be talked into believing Drew was a shrewd signing - that I'm hesitant to look into my crystal ball knowing that another off-the-mark proclamation will make me look as clueless as a WEEI fill-in host.

2. I think Dice K will eventually prove to be worth every last yen the Red Sox paid for him; once he becomes fully acclimated to major league baseball and the lifestyle, he'll be a damn fine No. 2 starter at the worst, and becoming one of the elite pitchers in the game is certainly an attainable goal. But right now . . . well, he's good, very good on occasion, but he's also just so frustrating, particularly on nights like tonight. His command isn't what we were told it was - he serves up way too many flat, fat breaking balls - and I can't help but wish he had an extra two or three miles per hour on his fastball. As for those 15 runs he's allowed in 19.1 innings against the Yankees this season? Not acceptable for any pitcher, let alone one of his accomplishment and skill.

3. Dr. Charles surely would revoke my Red Sox Nation membership card for saying this (presuming I were sucker enough to fall for such a transparent, insulting money grab), but Yankee phenom Joba Chamberlain's stuff is so electric and his back story so compelling, I have to admit I genuinely enjoy watching the kid pitch. And yes, I say that with the knowledge that, good health permitting, he'll be tormenting the Sox for the next decade or so. Hey, every now and then the baseball fan wins out over the Red Sox fan.

4. Four of Derek Jeter's nine home runs this season have come against the Red Sox, a stat that probably manages to be both impressive and puzzling if you're a Yankees fan. (Then again, if you're a Yankees fan, most things are puzzling, particularly the concept of good hygiene. Sorry. Too easy.) In all seriousness, it's impressive that Jeter manages his best performances against the Yankees' main rival, but it has to be puzzling that Captain Calm-Eyes has been fist-pumpin' his way to a .258 batting average and a .619 OPS in 99 at-bats this month. Maybe I'm just taking a small sample size out of context, and maybe last night's homer was a sign that he was on the verge of a playoff-push hot streak, but right now I have the same suspicion about him that I've had about David Ortiz for much of the season. He's playing through more than a few bumps and bruises, and we'll find out just how seriously he is injured only when the season ends.

5. Cracks me up how Roger Clemens's mediocre performance has relegated his apologists to mythologizing his impact as a "mentor" to the Yankees' young pitchers. Uh-uh, that's exactly why he's being paid a pro-rated $28 million - to carry a few clipboards for Ron Guidry. I hope the Sox light him up so badly that today's lesson for Joba and other impressionable young Yankee minds includes this annual staple of the Rocket syllabus: How To Limp Off the Mound With a Groin "Tweak" While Trailing 8-0 in the Second Inning 101. Man, I do enjoy that class.

6. Quick Patriots aside: I'm a transactions junkie as it is, but NFL cutdown day is going to be extra fascinating this season because of the Patriots' ridiculous depth. I thought coming into camp that Reche Caldwell was a longshot to stick, and he's done nothing in camp to change my mind, though it might not be the worst idea to keep a receiver who has some chemistry with Tom Brady until the new guys get acclimated. (I'd be curious to see how huge Caldwell's eyes get when the Turk tells him coach wants to see him and to bring his playbook.) Defensively, veterans who seem to be on the bubble include Chad Brown (why was he brought back in the first place?), Tory James and/or Dante Wesley, and for some reason I wonder if Junior Seau and Eric Alexander are as secure as they seem.

7. I liked Johnny Damon a whole hell of a lot better two weeks ago when he was washed up. The Yankees will undoubtedly try to dump him and the two years remaining on his contract in the offseason, and given the mileage on his legs and the emergence of Melky Cabrera, that's probably prudent. But he's suddenly hitting again, even as Joe Torre's reluctant 10th man, and I'm pretty sure he could be clomping around on a peg leg out there and he'd still find a way to torment the Sox.

8. I'm not saying Kevin Cash (.172 lifetime average) should be Doug Mirabelli's successor, but he sure has done a fine job proving that Mirabelli isn't the only living organism in the milky way capable of catching Tim Wakefield successfully, and for that I will remember him fondly.

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


I love the Lee Elia "playground-for-the-expletives" meltdown . . . and Earl Weaver's social tips for Alice Sweet . . . and in the non-sports division, Kasey Kasem's profanity-laced rant remains a No. 1 hit . . . but for my pure listening pleasure, this bleep-faced appearance by the Red Baron on a Padres telecast last season is the greatest piece of audio since the invention of ears. At certain points, he sounds so much like Wooderson that I half expect him to say, "Get busy livin' or get busy dyin', man." But the best part? Play-by-play guy Matt Vasgergian's bewildered "Clooney?" It gets funnier every time I hear it.

Weekend update

A few table scraps while waiting for the Yankees to claim J.C. Romero . . .


• Heard a lot of yowling from the hindsight specialists on 'EEI this afternoon that Theo Epstein made an egregious mistake by not taking up Curt Schilling on his offer to pitch for a mere $13 million dollars next season. Can't say I'm surprised at the banshees' reactionary outcry, considering that Schilling's masterpiece against the A's Thursday was the best pitching performance we've seen around here since . . . well, probably since Derek Lowe's no-hitter in 2002. (No offense, Pedro.) But for those who are yelping that the Sox should sign Schilling now, it might be time for a reality check. Schilling is going to be 41 years old in November, he struggled mightily in the second half last season, and while his cumulative numbers (6-2, 3.49 ERA) are very good, it's worth noting that he's battled inconsistency, particularly against the Yankees. Of course I hope he pitches well enough the rest of the season to warrant a new deal here, and I'm certain that his threat to test free agency would prove empty should he receive a reasonable offer from the Red Sox. But that does not mean it's not prudent of the front office to wait and see if he can make it through the season as an effective big-league pitcher before committing to him for the next one.

• One more thing about Schilling: You had to find it amusing that the Yankees, according to the New York Times' Tyler Kepner, hooted and hollered like they'd just won something important after watching Shannon Stewart bust up Schilling's no-hitter. We all know that Schilling is a polarizing personality who won't be winning any league-wide popularity contests (remember Ed Wade's infamous quote: "He's a horse every fifth day and horse's --- the other four"). But this sure looks like further proof that the conventional wisdom is wrong and the Sox-Yanks rivalry really does mean as much to the players as it does the fans. I also can't help but wonder how Johnny Damon reacted during the whole thing, considering his wife and Mrs. Schilling weren't exactly sorority sisters during Damon's days in Boston.

• If you ever wondered why Mike Lowell is universally acknowledged as one of baseball's good guys, consider this anecdote from Peter Gammons:

On April 20, Courtney Butcher of Worcester, Mass., a freshman at the University of New Hampshire, called her father, Jim, to talk about the Monster seats Jim had purchased for the family for the Sunday night game. Lowell was her favorite player. That night, right after Courtney talked to her father, she and three friends were killed in an automobile accident. That Sunday night, Jim took his other children to the game. In the 4-HR inning, Lowell's shot went right to the Butcher family.

The next day, a friend of the family called Sarah Stevenson of the Red Sox, who relayed the message to Lowell, and he signed a uniform with these words: "Courtney, May God Be With You, Rest in Peace." He also sent word to Jim Butcher that he would homer for Courtney. The wake was that Tuesday, April 24, and Lowell's uniform was draped over Courtney's coffin. That night, he homered against the Blue Jays.

• In the 2003 MLB amateur draft, the Red Sox selected Baylor outfielder David Murphy with the 17th pick in the first round. Two picks later, the Arizona Diamondbacks plucked the other player the Sox reportedly considered, University of California first baseman Conor Jackson. While Murphy, now at Pawtucket, has plodded through the Sox system and projects as a fourth outfielder in the big leagues, the highly regarded Jackson has emerged as an everyday player in Arizona, putting up a respectable .817 OPS this season. My point? In my usual roundabout way, I have two: 1) The Sox probably took the wrong guy. 2) The hype surrounding this week's MLB draft LIVE ON ESPN2!!!! was ridiculous. Half of the kids taken in the first round will never be heard from again unless you live in a Double A city. No one knows if their favorite team took the next Murphy, Jackson, or Danny Goodwin, and they won't for a few years. Which is why, despite ESPN's typically over-the-top coverage, this will never be a Big Event on the scale of the NFL or NBA drafts. Leave it in the agate type, where it belongs.

• Congratulations go out to Roger Clemens-Waldman, who pitched well enough in six innings today to qualify for a quality start. Goodness gracious, give that man a raise! Now, if you don't mind, could someone please let me know when the disingenuous oaf is done with this tuneup b.s. and decides to start earning his $4.5 million monthly stipend against actual major league lineups? Excepting Jason Bay, the Pittsburgh Pirates might as well be the Nashville Sounds.

• This dreadful Julio Lugo experience makes me realize just how much I wish they'd re-signed Orlando Cabrera and avoided this aggravating annual game of Mediocre Shortstop Roulette. Full confession: Yeah, I did think Edgar Renteria would be an upgrade. But that doesn't mean I wanted to see Cabrera go.

• As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


From Saturday's AP story on the draft:

Former outfielder Kevin Romine had both of his sons taken on the first day: California high school catcher Austin Romine went to the New York Yankees in the second round, while brother, Andrew, a shortstop for Arizona State, was taken by the Los Angeles Angels in the fifth round.

Wait a minute . . . Kevin Romine is old enough to have two kids drafted? Man, as if I didn't feel like I was on the fast track to geezerhood already. I was almost sure he was still buried in Pawtucket, playing with Randy Kutcher, LaSchelle Tarver, Dana Williams, and Pat Dodson (and David Murphy, I suppose) and waiting for that elusive break.

Nine innings: 05.28.07

Playing nine innings while looking forward to the Yankees' trading-deadline fire sale . . .

1. Think Dr. Charles has anything appropriately cheesy planned for Trot Nixon's return to Fenway Park today? Maybe have noted baseball songsmith Terry Cashman crank out another silly, simple tune ("The Dirty-Hat Ditty," perhaps?). It certainly seems like NESN intends on playing up the Trot angle tonight, from a pregame one-on-one interview with Tom Caron to having ol' No. 7 miked up for some goofy batting-practice banter. Who knows, maybe they'll even bring back Brian Daubach for a reunion with his old partner in grime. While we here at TATB never quite understood why Nixon was such an unconditional darling of the Dirt Dog crowd (from flipping the second out into in the stands twice to failing to hustle home before an inning-ending out could be recorded at another base twice, he always seemed to run neck-and-neck with Manny for the team lead in boneheaded plays), we always respected him for his sincere appreciation of playing in Boston, his big-moment ownership of Roger Clemens, and the fact that he was One of the 25, and the one who happened to deliver the big hit in the clinching game. No, he may never have been our favorite, but today, we will tip our dirty Sox cap his way. After 13 years in the Sox organization, we owe him that much.

2. Kevin Youkilis is batting .353, he has seven straight multi-hit games, a higher OPS than sluggers named Morneau and Teixeira . . . and you know what? I'm beginning to think he's actually this good. It's funny, but the scouts who were skeptical of Youkilis as he rose through the Red Sox system noted that for all of his patience at the plate, they didn't think he was a skilled enough hitter to always make the most of it when he did get a hittable pitch. Well, here we are three years after Youkilis first arrived in the big leagues, and it seems like the guy never misses his pitch - he's a line-drive machine. I realize he got off to a similarly scorching start last season before wearing down in the second half, but I've seen enough to be convinced that he's ready, at age 28, to put up excellent numbers all season long.

3. There are a few things about Dustin Pedroia that annoy me - the swing-from-the-heels approach to hitting, the sense that his tough-guy gripe about A-Rod's slide comes from an incurable case of what my dad used to call "little man's disease" - but I have to admit, he's winning me over as a ballplayer. He's better than advertised defensively, certainly superior to rangeless predecessor Mark Loretta, and if his classic at-bat against Eric Gagne yesterday is a fair measure, there are very few pitchers who will overmatch him despite his unorthodox uppercut swing. I'm not sure I like him yet, but I'm beginning to appreciate him.

4. Well, I guess Pedro Martinez won't be getting a bedazzler for Christmas. If you missed it, the greatest pitcher in modern Red Sox history recently weighed in on the comeback of the second-greatest pitcher in modern history, and Pedro's opinion was basically this: Right now, Roger Clemens looks like a fat, old junkballer. To which we can only say that we hope Pedro is as good a scout as he is (was?) a pitcher.

5. Speaking of Pedro, and to a lesser extent Johnny Damon, it might be time to give Theo Epstein his due for the unsentimental manner in which he refuses to overpay for the club's popular but aging stars. Pedro, of course, crumbled physically in Year 2 of his four-year deal with the Mets, and the years of playing with reckless abandon sure seem to be taking a heavy toll on Damon in his second season with the Yankees. We're not saying Pedro and Damon are finished as premier players . . . but at the moment, Theo looks shrewd for letting them leave. Kinda makes you wonder what his post-2007 plan for Curt Schilling is, doesn't it?

6. Brief Celtics aside: I vow that in 2017, when the Celtics inevitably stink and the next franchise big man (Shazaam O'Neal?) is the prize of the NBA lottery, I will not get caught up in the hype or daydream of said franchise big man in green and white until David Stern's nerdy underling pulls the Celtics' card out of the envelope as the No. 1 pick. The crushing letdown from realizing Tim Duncan, Greg Oden, or Kevin Durant will be some other franchise's grand prize is simply too much to endure again.

7. Brief Patriots aside: Since I've been telling anyone who will listen that we never would have heard of Bryan Fletcher had Junior Seau remained healthy - the one thing he can still do at an elite level is shadow tight ends and running backs in pass coverage - you bet I'm glad the Patriots are bringing him back for another year of graduate school. In a supporting role, Seau's still a very useful player.

8. As if Red Sox fans needed another reason to adore Orlando Cabrera.

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


PLoved this story by Joe Posnanski (for our money, one of the two or three best sports columnist in the country - he actually seems to like sports, go figure) on the legend of Bo Jackson. if you didn't see Jackson in his too-short prime, well, you missed something truly special, but Posnanski does a wonderful job of recapturing it, particularly with the Harold Reynolds anecdote. The only time I saw Jackson play in person was in the spring of, let's see, probably '89 or '90 at Fenway, when me and a bunch of my UMaine buddies made the four-hour drive down from the Orono hinterlands for the sole purpose of seeing him (and George Brett) play. As usual, Bo did not disappoint, smashing line-drive home run off Wes Gardner that dented the back wall in centerfield, about 20 feet from where we were seated in the bleachers. I've never seen anything like it - or anything like the man who hit it, for that matter.

Schadenfreude, baby

A few quick notes on the Yankees' shameful demise while suddenly feeling a hell of a lot better about the state of the Red Sox . . .

• Repeat after me: Alex Rodriguez, shortstop, Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. He simply has to go. It is of course not entirely his fault for what happened here, but he is the bat-strangling poster boy for the Yankees' postseason failings since Game 3 of the '04 ALCS, and it's readily apparent that his physical ability will continue to be overwhelmed by his mental weakness and insecurity so long as he's in New York. He's talking a good game as always and saying he won't go unless it's made clear to him that he's no longer wanted by the Yankees. Don't worry, Slappy. Soon enough, it will be.

• Regarding A-Rod, I'm pretty sure the following is the best-written paragraph you will ever read on this site:

The sheer fact that he takes up too much of the air, suffocating this franchise, himself, with the grandness of his burden, the monumental nature of his frailties, his insecurities, is enough reason for the Yankees to find a trade for him this winter. Even if A-Rod ever produces again in October, it is no longer worth the soap opera that comes with him getting there.

It comes from Adrian Wojnarowski's column in the Bergen Record this morning, and I recommend it to Sox fans and Yankees fans alike. It's fantastically well-reasoned for a deadline piece, and there's enough venom to appease the most bloodthirsty New Yawkah today.

• It's hard to pin any of this on Teflon Jeter, who at least looks like he sincerely gives a damn and always plays his ass off 'til the last drop . . . but at some point, doesn't all the talk about the "businesslike" clubhouse and the 25 players, 25 private planes mentality reflect a negative light on the Yankees' captain? Rather than unifying this team, in tough times he always seems to go out of his way to make the point that this is a "different group" than the 4-time champs, almost as if he's disingenuously distancing himself from the mess. He's a wonderful player, but the more I see, the more I believe his leadership is entirely by example - at best.

• Wonder how many Yankee fans realize the Tigers acquired Jeremy Bonderman in a three-way deal that sent 2003 World Series goat Jeff Spicoli-Weaver to New York.

• As great as Robinson Cano can be at the plate, he plays second base with Mark Loretta's range and half the effort.

• He can beat a cameraman to death with his tripod for all I care. After what Kenny Rogers did in Game 3 - namely, pitched the Game Of His Life when no one thought he'd do it - he's all right in my book from here on out. And somewhere in the darkness/the gambler, he broke even . . .

• By my estimation, Randy Johnson's Game 3 stinkfest made Barry Zito an extra $5 million per year.

• Let's make this clear right now: I DO NOT want Gary Sheffield calling Fenway Park home next season, particularly if its as Manny Ramirez's alleged replacement. He's 38, he's indifferent, he's a mean-spirited pain in the ass, and he's coming off a major injury to his greatest asset as a player, his wrists. No. Thanks.

• Andy Phillips, Yankees spokesman. Somehow, that seems appropriate.

• The fallout from this might actually include the Yankees management finally realizing that collecting every soulless All-Star available is not the best way to construct a team, that maybe you're better off staying the course with the enthusiasm of Melky Cabrera than splurging on an overpriced Bobby Abreu just because you can afford it. Bringing in Johnny Damon seemed to boost their chemistry, but it's readily apparent now that they've got a long way to go to even approach the collegial atmosphere of the Tigers, let alone the joyous idiocy of the '04 Sox. Maybe the Orioles will have mercy and trade them Millar.

• That said, I fully expect the ultimate soulless All-Star, Barry Bonds, to be the Yankees' DH next season. Georgie-Porgie won't be able to resist pimping the Asterisked Chase For 755 on the YES Network.

• There's no truth to the rumor that Torre still has Scott Proctor warming up in the bullpen, you know, just in case.

• There are few things that make my wee-hours, hour-plus commute home from Boston than listening to WFAN after a Yankees gag-job. "Vito from His Mother's Bomb Shelter, you're on with Tony Page . . . "

• Aw, c'mon, Sterling, one more time, just for the sport of it: "Groundball to second . . . Polanco has it, throws to first . . . ballgame over . . . series over . . . THAAAAAAAA YANKEES LOSE!!! THAAAAAAAAAA YANKEES LOSE!!!!"

• As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


Introducing the likely manager of the 2007 New York Yankees . . . and what the hell, let's take a moment to note that Piniella is an A-Rod fan, while Mr. Torre is a Jeter guy. Will the fun never end? . . .

Value judgment

Ten free minutes for me, 10 free half-formed thoughts for you . . .

1. Might as well face it, my man Ryan was right: Jeter's winning the MVP. (Fist pump! Smirk! And why not . . . another fist pump!) And you know what? Other than the fact that it gives the Bleacher Buttafuocos and Jeterphiles more reason to prance around in their reflected glory, I've got no problem with it - this season, the Captain's stats actually justify his reputation. He has the second-highest VORP in the league behind Travis Hafner, his production in the clutch is typically dazzling, and you, me, and Timlin know he did his part to shovel dirt on the Sox during that five-game debacle. I'm not really sure why Papi felt the need to diminish his accomplishments - maybe he tried some "Driven" and it gave him a killer rash? While I understand Papi's frustration - Jeter, for all he has done, never has and never will be been burdened to carry an offense the way Papi has - he came across as petty in his criticism, no matter what his tone or the context. If he doesn't regret airing his grievances now, he will by the time this series in New York is over. It's going to get ugly. (For the record, my MVP vote would go to the Twins' exquisite lefty, Johan Santana. There is no one more valuable than him.)

2. So a year ago, Tom Brady puts his money where his mouth is, taking a below-market 6-year, $60-million contract to remain a Patriot, explaining that he's willing to forego the Peyton bucks in order to help keep the core of his team together . . . and then his two favorite receivers say sayonara barely a year later while the team remains roughly $10 million under the cap. And you wonder why this Branch thing was weighing on his mind last week.

3. It's a bummer to see Francisco Liriano shut it down for the season, not only because you never want to see such a charismatic and gifted young pitcher derailed by arm problems, but because I thought his return made the Twins the only legitimate challenger to the Yankees.

4. I suppose it's prudent business for the both the Patriots and the Sox to place a specific value on a player and refuse to exceed that number even if it means losing him, but I can't help but wish they should leave themselves just a bit more flexibility in certain situations. For example, I don't understand why the Red Sox, with their vast resources, were willing to give Johnny Damon $11 million per year, yet were reluctant to go a million or two higher than that. And had the Pats predicted the market better and attempted in good faith and logic to sign David Givens a season or two before he became a free agent, I suspect they'd have him at a much cheaper rate than the Titans ended up paying.

5. You know how it pains me to write these words, but at the moment I have no doubt they will be proven true over the winter: Manny Ramirez has played his final game for the Boston Red Sox. And if the thought of trading him for 75 cents on the dollar pisses me off like this, I can't imagine how Papi will feel when it all goes down. (By the way, is it weird that I find myself almost hoping Manny needs knee surgery just to spite all the WEEI wannabe med students who refuse to consider that he might not be jaking it?)

6. What the Sox should do, of course, is retain Manny then go out and get proven No. 5 hitter with 30-homer potential. (I enjoy the Wily Mo Experience, but he's got a long way to go before he can help anchor a lineup.) So I offer you this suggestion: Alfonso Soriano . . . second base . . . Boston Red Sox. Whaddaya say? I know he's Offermanesque defensively, but he wants to play second again, and I might be willing to sacrifice some glove to get that phenomenal bat in the middle of the Sox' order.

7. Don't tell Mrs. TATB, but I'm pumped and jacked like Trojan Pete that I just led Dwayne Wade, Dirk Nowitzki, Joe Johnson and the rest of my Seattle SuperSonics to a 69-13 record on ESPN NBA '05. Hey, did I mention I'm 36, with two kids, a mortgage, and for now, a wife? Yeah, I know, I'll make a note to grow the hell up and re-evaluate my priorities . . . right after my Sonics' playoff run ends.

8. From the Brushes With Fame (If Not Quite Greatness) file: Back in our Concord, N.H. days, TATB logged many turnover-filled hours on the Green St. hoop court with a live-wire named Mike Carri . . . whom you may now know as Mike "Boogie" Malin, the hipster doofus who just connived his way to the $500,000 grand prize on Big Brother All-Stars. We're glad to report he played that game pretty well, too, and in the real world he's much nicer guy than the character he plays on TV.

9. I'm convinced that if Gabe Kapler's involvement with the Sox next season solely consists of sitting to Tom Caron's left during the postgame show, Tito would still find a way to get his dead bat into the lineup twice a week.


10. As for today's Completely Random . . . er, Media Guide Mugshot:


From party-hearty linebacker, to master of the long snap, to sycophantic bully of a co-host, you are a real man of genius, Steve DeOssie.

(And with that I fully expect to get the following message in my email box later today:)

"DID YOU EVER PLAY THE GAME, BLOGGER? HUH? DID YOU? DID YOU EVER PLAY THE GAME!? ALL RIGHT, THEN! DON'T POST GOOFY HEADSHOTS OF ME UNTIL YOU CAN SAY YOU PLAYED THE GAME, BLOGGER!!!"

Nine innings: 09.04.06

Playing nine innings while finally seeing some familiar names on the lineup card . . .


1. With his spot-on Big Papi imitation tonight, Carlos Pena (of the Haverhill Penas) lived the common dream of New England kids through the ages: to hit a game-winning home run at Fenway Park. He's one of us, and it was chill-inducing to see how much he savored it. Long regarded as one of the nicest people in the game, reacted with genuine joy, as if the moment's realization took him back to the day he first imagined it. "Do you know how many times I'm doing this in my backyard? It's amazing," he said. "I've dreamed of this since I was 12 years old." Now, feel free to accuse me of getting caught up in the good vibes of the night, but I do hope there is a spot on the roster for Pena next season. Frankly, I don't quite understand why he hasn't been able to hold down a big-league gig. He's a terrific first baseman, has a selective eye (though he does strike out a ton), has legitimate power (he walloped 27 homers in '03), and at 28, is still young enough to realize the potential that saw him reach the majors at 23, just two years removed from Northeastern. You'd think he'd at least make a valuable member of the bench. And who doesn't love a local-boy-makes-good story, especially when he's making good for the local team?

2. So the Sox are six back in the wild-card and nine in the division with 24 games left to play. While stranger things have happened, I'd say the more reasonable among us agree that the 2006 playoffs will go on without the Boston Red Sox' participation. And you know what? I find myself feeling strangely fine about this. Maybe it's because of the frightening, life-altering situation young Jon Lester suddenly finds himself in, or maybe it's because of David Ortiz's health scare, or maybe it's something as trivial as a baseball matter, such as the thought that the franchise's future would be better served if Jonathan Papelbon never unleashed another pitch this season. Or maybe it's all of this: the relentless injuries (Ortiz, Ramirez, Nixon, Crisp, Wakefield, Varitek, Pena, Foulke, Wells, Gonzalez, Schilling, Papelbon . . .), poor roster construction (save for Papelbon, the bullpen's performance has been like some bizarre tribute to Heathcliff Slocumb), a lack of suitable depth in the high minors (Kevin Freakin' Jarvis? Mike Burns? Seriously?), and the common-sense realization that this team in perfect health probably wasn't going to star in a sequel to Faith Rewarded. Hey, sometimes it's okay to admit that it's just not your turn.

3. I was going to use this space to rant about Theo's decision to trade David Riske to the White Sox for The Less Famous But Equally Useless Of The Javier Lopezes, but then a kindly SoSHer pointed out to me that the White Sox are extremely reluctant to use Riske in any - I apologize in advance - risky situations, and that he's continuing his career-long trend of pitching well only in low-pressure moments. Then I was going to use this space to rip on Theo for leaving Craig Breslow buried at Pawtucket most of the season while lefty batters continued to make hamburger of the Sox bullpen, but then Breslow went out and pitched exactly like you'd expect someone named Craig Breslow to pitch. So seeing how it's pretty clear that I'm about as clueless at trying to assemble a bullpen as Theo is, let me just say in my wishy-washy way that I wish Cla Meredith were still here, and I'm pretty sure he'd help somewhat seeing that he hasn't given up a run in 20-something innings in the Quadruple A National League, and that maybe this building a bullpen thing ain't so easy after all.

4. A few of us here at TATB headquarters felt like shedding more than just crocodile tears when we heard about the bizarre and tragic death of "Crocodile Hunter" Steve Irwin this morning. While I'm more the indoorsy type, my wife was a longtime fan of his show, and I always enjoyed watching it with her. You just couldn't help but be drawn in by his uncommon abundance of charisma, enthusiasm, and knowledge, and his rapport with all of his creatures was tangible, truly something to behold. It was apparent that he was one of the lucky few whose life's work also happened to be his true passion. He'll be missed, and I feel terrible for his kids.

5. From a fan's standpoint, I was bummed to see Boomer Wells depart. As a rule, I'm pretty much cool with any athlete who has a Body By Hostess, and it was an absolute treat to watch him pitch when his curveball was working and his creaky knees could bear the weight. He was the anti-Clement, a fearless, efficient, strike-throwing machine, and I wonder how this season might have been different had he made 30 starts. But taking bleacher-creature sentiment out of it, I think the Sox made a pretty decent deal, assuming the reports that catcher George Kottaras is the PTBNL are accurate. While he's struggled in his in-season promotion from Double A to Triple A, he's only 23, he was the Padres' No. 2 prospect coming into the season, is said to be solid defensively but for some supposedly correctable mechanical flaws, and earned an intriguing pre-season review from Baseball Prospectus:

The fraternity of former hot catching prospects is fraught with disappointment - ask Matt LeCroy or Toby Hall. Kottaras resembles a young Craig Biggio more than behemoths like LeCroy or Hall, though, and he looks like he's going to be a pretty fair defensive backstop. His 36 doubles and 69 walks point to some promising line-drive power and a good batting eye, traits that will serve him well at higher levels. With just 101 Double-A at-bats on his record, he won't be a factor in the big leagues in 2006. Look for Kottaras in 2007 - Doug Mirabelli is not a long term solution behind the plate.

Little did they know that last line would refer to the Red Sox and not the Padres, huh?

6. And speaking of our favorite plus-size ballplayers, let me say this: If you don't enjoys watching Ryan Howard, a genuine slugger with a veteran's savvy at the plate (his opposite-field power is reee-diculous), then you are either a David Eckstein-lovin', scrappy-white-guy fetishist, a National League pitcher, or someone who so foolishly had him pegged as the next Sam Horn. Hell, I'm the latter, and he might be favorite NL player at the moment.

7. Three quick thoughts on the Yankees: 1) Typical A-Rod, going on a tear once everything of consequence is in the bag. 2) I'm not saying it's fair or right, but Derek Jeter is going to win the AL MVP, the Gold Glove, and the Maybelline Metrosexual of the Year award. 3) How come Johnny Damon's name doesn't come up in this MVP talk? I'm not saying he should win the thing, but after putting up stellar numbers, leading the 5-game annihilation of his former team, filling the gaping hole in center field that was previously occupied by the mummified Bernie Williams, and bringing a sense of fun and relaxation to the tense Yankees clubhouse, shouldn't he at least be in the discussion?

8. Be well, Jon Lester. An entire Nation looks forward to celebrating your next victory, one that has nothing to do with baseball.

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



Not only did the Sox have to settle for a spilt with the Blue Jays after winning the first two games of the series, but we didn't even get to see John Gibbons punch out one of his players. Talk about a letdown.

Nine innings: 07.18.06

Zipping through nine innings while hoping the tunnel ceiling stays off my head . . .


1. He's the closest thing we've ever seen to our native son Carlton Fisk, so tough and stoic and dependable that you almost forget he's not a New Englander born and bred. So it's only appropriate that Jason Varitek, the backbone of this Red Sox renaissance and the smell-the-glove symbol of the franchise's refusal to take any more crap from the pretty-boy Yankees, be the one to surpass Fisk's record of 990 games caught in a Red Sox uniform. Everyone appreciates Varitek, from the pitchers who rank ahead of his own offense at the top of his priorities list, to the manager who can't help but speak of his own player in reverent tones, to the fans who see in him play the game with the dedication and passion not of a multimillionaire star, but of a working-class grunt desperate to hang on to his dream job. He might be the most universally respected Sox player of my lifetime, and while his struggles at age 34 make you wonder just how much of a toll those 900-plus games have taken, it's hard to imagine the Red Sox without him. Hell, it's hard to remember the Red Sox without him. If that isn't a legacy to be proud of, I don't know what is.

2. Some granite-skulled electronic media nitwit - usually an underling of Ordway's - starts yelping the theory at about this time each year, and before long it becomes a common theme on the local airways: The Red Sox had better hold off the Yankees, because this is the year the wild-card doesn't come out of the East! Well, guess what? The wild-card is coming out of the East, I guarantee it. The White Sox, who have hardly looked like World Champs against the Sox and Yankees, will overtake the Tigers in the Central, most likely after fearless GM Kenny Williams makes a blockbuster deal before the deadline. I expect the Red Sox and the Yankees, with some minor pre-trade-deadline repairs, to keep rolling, and I expect the Tigers are due for some difficulties in the second half: the annual Magglio Ordonez injury, a dead arm for rookie Justin Verlander, a severe self-inflicted cigarette burn by Jim Leyland. They have been very, very good, but I want to see how they handle adversity before I give them any autumn advantage over the Yankees or either colored Sox.

3. In terms of what he's actually accomplished compared to what he acts likes he's accomplished, is there a more annoying player in baseball than Oakland's Nick Swisher? He bitches at the umpires more often than Papi and prances around with a self-satisfied smirk almost as often as Captain Jetes. What a sausage. He's really going to be insufferable once he has more than a decent half-season on the back of his baseball card.


4. I wish the Cubs would get on with their fire sale already, because I'm thinking they might deal a couple Red Sox of the near past who could benefit their old club in the immediate future. Scott Williamson - healthy again, pitching well, and with something of a postseason track record if I recall correctly - might be the ideal low-cost, high-reward addition to the Sox 'pen. Williamson could do what Tavarez and Seanez have failed to do - act as the sixth- or seventh-inning bridge to Timlin, Delcarmen and Papelbon, and get a key late-inning strikeout when the situation demands it. And the other Cub the Sox should be interested in? Why not Todd Walker? Reader Mike L. suggested this a day or so ago, and at first I didn't think it made much sense. Why would they Sox need another second baseman when they already have Loretta and Cora? But the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. Walker would be a terrific lefthanded stick off the bench, something the Sox could use at the moment. Further, Walker loved it here, has had nothing but wonderful things to say about Boston, and I think at least in the short term he'd embrace the role. Now, I admit, maybe sentiment is a factor here - I always felt bad that Walker, so clutch in '03 postseason despite Grady Little's idiotic insistence on platooning him with Damian Freakin' Jackson, missed out on the joy of '04. I'd like to see him come back and be a part of a team that had a shot at winning it all, and I think Walker would like that too.

5. Yes, I'm still glad they didn't re-sign him for that many years and that much cash. Yes, I still think Coco Crisp is a wiser long-term investment, even if it sometimes seems he's getting paid by the commercial. Yet . . . after watching Johnny Damon come through time and again during the Yankees' recent stretch of stellar play, I have to admit I've caught myself wondering how much larger the Red Sox' lead would be if he had resisted the forces of evil (and Steinbrenner's cold millions) and remained in Boston. Three games? Five? Seven? . . .

6. I would rather listen to that eardrum-assaulting Taylor Hicks commercial on an endless loop on my iPod than hear one more word about that freakin' World Series ball. Let it go already, fellas. Let it go.

7. If Tim Wakefield's back injury is going to be a lingering problem - and after watching him grimace his way through four innings Monday, I have to believe it will be - then Jon Lester's wild-child brilliance goes from being the feel-good film of the summer to an absolute necessity. And for all of the kid's talent, I'm not quite sure he's ready for that burden.

8. While his numerous blog posts and radio appearances, as well as excerpts in the Globe Magazine and ESPN.com, have saturated me with the juiciest details from his peek behind the doors of Fenway, I still cannot wait to read Seth Mnookin's "Feeding the Monster" from prologue to epilogue. I'm convinced, from what I've read and what I've heard, that this is the book Sox fans have been waiting for, one that offers unfiltered insight and answers lingering questions (what really made Nomar so sour? rather than offering the usual worn-out anecdotes and rehashed history. (I do wonder, however, if the title ticks off Rob Neyer any, since he wrote "Feeding the Green Monster" several years ago to much less fanfare. He does tend to get uppity about these things.)

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



Looking at Oakland's bookish manager now, you'd probably never have suspected he was once a ballplayer. Math teacher? Now that's more like it.