Nine innings: 02.18.08

Playing nine innings while waiting for Derek Jeter to have his Gold Gloves revoked . . .


1. I believed this before reading Gordon Edes's outstanding front-page feature the other day, but now I'm convinced more than ever: Jon Lester is going to make a significant breakthrough this season. I'm thinking 15 wins and an ERA right around 4.00, and I'm trying to be cautious. It's not easy, though. John Farrell adores him, which counts for a lot in my eyes, and the most recent picture I have of Lester in my mind was his spot-on imitation of a vintage Bruce Hurst in the World Series clincher. I honestly don't think I'm going overboard here when I say he day will come - and soon - when we're glad the Sox refused to part with him for Johan Santana.

2. Jorge Posada's defense of Roger Clemens, at the expense of a current teammate's testimony and in the face of all common sense, automatically makes me suspicious of just what methods the Yankees catcher used to post a career-best OPS+ of 154 last season in contract year at age 36. It's probably not fair and even a little irresponsible, I know, but I just can't comprehend why he'd take Clemens's worthless word over Pettitte's unless perhaps his misplaced sympathy was born from having something to hide himself.

3. Trivia question I plucked out of an AP story at work last night: In the last six seasons, Roy Oswalt leads the majors with 98 wins, and Roy Halladay is second with 93. Who's third, with 92? Hint: You've booed him, cheered him, and maybe even had a beer with him. Also, his name is not Roy. Click the link for his ID.

4. I applaud the Red Sox' caution with Clay Buchholz, especially considering that the No-Hit Kid's 2007 season was abbreviated in part due to a tired shoulder. But they're taking it too far if they send him down to Pawtucket while a proven mediocrity such as Julian Tavarez or Kyle Snyder occupies the fifth spot in the rotation. Buchholz has a chance to be an impact pitcher immediately - with his uncommon command of his excellent secondary pitches, I would not be completely shocked if he was the Sox' No. 2 starter by the end of the summer. I don't fault them for babying their prized prospect, and limiting the skinny righty to 180 innings or so this season makes perfect sense. What doesn't make sense: having him pitch anywhere but where he belongs.

5. I wasn't sure whether to pity Debbie Clemens for being another victim of her lying oaf of a husband's runaway ego, or to dismiss her as a vapid, delusional enabler, a Stepford baseball wife. I'm leaning toward the latter, however, after hearing the story about her and Mrs. Canseco comparing, um, assets at the now-infamous barbecue. Turns out Roger wasn't the only boob to make an appearance that day.

6. The Sox really have no choice but to sign Jason Varitek to a contract extension, and I don't mean to suggest that's a bad thing. Compared to other catchers, the 36-year-old captain was very productive last season, batting .255 with 17 homers and 103 OPS+, and we're all aware of his value when it comes to leadership, preparation, and all the small but significant things. (Yes, I refused to use the word "intangibles" there. Jeter owns the copyright, I believe.) It's just that, at his age, durability has to become an increasing concern, and the safest bet for the Sox would be to sign him to something like a two-year, $24 million extension. But with Posada, a superior hitter but inferior to Varitek at just about everything else, signing a four-year, $56.2 million deal in the offseason that will keep him in pinstripes through his 40th birthday, you have to figure Varitek and his agent, Scott Boras, will be looking for something in that pricey neighborhood. And the Sox, with no legitimate catching prospects on the immediate horizon (sorry, Dusty Brown), might just have to pay it.

7. Three quick Pats thoughts, because dammit, I just can't quit them: 1) I'm glad Belichick and Pioli are finally counter-punching regarding Spygate. It ought to prevent other Patriot haters from jumping on the pile after the likes of William Gary, Arlen Spector, and Matt Walsh. But I have to admit, my first impression as I read Mike Reiss's story Sunday night was that the Patriots' portrayal of Walsh as some sort of serial taper sure would be a very convenient way to distance themselves from him if he does happen to possess any damning video. And my hunch - and that's all it is - is that they are fairly certain he does, which would mean, unfortunately, that this ridiculously overblown story is not going away any day soon. 2) I like Zach Thomas as a player, at least until those little birdies started circling his head, but I'm just not sure where he'd fit with the Pats. Hasn't he spent his whole career in a 4-3, hiding behind fat defensive tackles and running to the ball? Doesn't seem like his style and the Pats' defense are compatible. Of course, I said the same thing about Junior Seau two years ago, and now I'm crossing my fingers that he puts off graduation for another year. 3) Ty Law, coming back home? Yes, please, though you have to figure the 33-year-old corner (doesn't it seem like he should be older?) will again choose cold, hard cash over sentiment.


8. I guarantee you the following is the best ending to a column you'll ever see on this blog:

I can't believe he won't come walking out of a clearing, bent over and holding his back and complaining that the swim was bad for his sciatica. If you see someone answering that description, throw him a bad pitch down around the ankles outside and, if he hits it screaming down the right-field line, it can only be Clemente, and you'll know reports of his condition have been grossly exaggerated once again.

I suppose I'm doing the writer a disservice here by repeating his column's masterful ending without fully explaining the circumstances, but I'm going to assume you quickly solved the topic and the circumstances. It's the conclusion to a column written by the legendary Jim Murray that appeared in the L.A. Times on January 3, 1973, three days after a plane carrying Pittsburgh Pirates superstar Roberto Clemente crashed off the coast of Puerto Rico while attempting to deliver relief supplies to earthquake victims in Nicaragua. The body of Clemente, who Murray lovingly eulogizes in the piece as an endearing grump and somewhat of a hypochondriac, was never found, of course, which makes the piece all the more poignant.

I've long been fascinated by Clemente - he and Jackie Robinson are the two players before my time who I wish I'd seen in person - but I'd never read Murray's column about his disappearance until I recently picked up an old anthology of his best work, appropriately titled "The Great Ones." Let's just say I now consider it the best $1.99 I've ever spent.

If you're familiar with Murray's work - and perhaps you are, since he was syndicated for decades (I read him in the Portland Press Herald as a kid) and is widely considered the finest sports columnist ever - it won't be a revelation when I say his columns are elegantly simple, expertly crafted, and unfailingly hilarious. Among current sportswriters, only Joe Posnanski owns the same attributes, and reading both of them often leaves me both inspired and disheartened. It sucks to know that my best column will never be in the same ballpark as Murray's or Posnanski's worst, yet reading them enhances my desire to write, because they remind me just how fulfilling and great something as silly as sportswriting can be. I think that's the best compliment I can pay.

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


Josh Booty was once the highest-rated prep quarterback in Louisiana, ahead of a certain future ubiquitous pitchman. And I'll tell anyone who will listen that, having seen him often during his two seasons with the Portland Sea Dogs, he unequivocally has the best throwing arm I have ever seen in person, and that's no exaggeration. For all of his athletic potential, however, he's now apparently just a severely tasered version of Drew Henson, a ballyhooed prep star who wasn't quite good enough at two sports.

Smooth

There's a part of me - the part that savors a well-pitched 2-1 ballgame, the part that appreciates a Bugs Bunny changeup that instantly turns a slugger from ferocious to feeble - that was thrilled about the prospect of Johan Santana pitching for the Boston Red Sox in 2008 and beyond. In that sense, it's a small disappointment that his immense talent and admirable approach to the game will be some other fanbase's treat for the next few seasons, provided his left elbow remains sound.

So much for that daydream of a Josh Beckett-Santana 1-2 punch. But you know what? It's better this way. No, Santana's not a Red Sox. But he's not a Yankee, either, thank goodness. He's out of the AL, and the way it all played out is the best possible outcome for the reigning World Series champs.

That's not to say Minnesota made the correct trade, however. Perhaps time will prove me wrong here, but my immediate impression is that Minnesota whiffed like Trot Nixon against a lefty. New GM Bill Smith made a classic rookie mistake. He got reasonable, if not overwhelming, offers from the Red Sox and the Yankees around the time of the winter meetings, decided neither proposal was enough in exchange for the best pitcher of this decade, waited too long for more . . . and ended up getting less. Much less.

Minnesota received (or should I say will receive, for the deal isn't official until Santana signs an extension) four of the Mets' top seven prospects according to Baseball America: outfielder Carlos Gomez, and pitchers Phil Humber, Kevin Mulvey and Deolis Guerra. But what they didn't get - and what they absolutely had to receive in exchange for a 29-year-old two-time Cy Young award winner - was an elite prospect, someone whom they could show their fans and say, Yes, we traded the best pitcher of this decade. But we think we just acquired our signature star of the next generation. Be patient. There's hope.

Instead, Twins fans are left lamenting the departure of yet another iconic athlete in exchange for what looks suspiciously like a handful of magic beans. As one commenter put it on Twins blogger extraordinaire Aaron Gleeman's site:

The only thing that could have made this better is if the Mets had somehow thrown in Herschel Walker.

Turns out bitter sports sarcasm isn't solely the domain of New Englanders.

By all accounts, the one player the Twins coveted - and the one they should have demanded - was outfielder Fernando Martinez, a slugger-in-waiting who made a good impression in Double A this past season at the age of 18. I don't think much of Omar Minaya as a GM - sometimes it seems like his mission is to reassemble the 1999 Caribbean Winter League All-Star team in Flushing - but he deserves a tip of the ball cap for getting Santana without giving up his most prized prospect.

In retrospect, Smith should have taken the Yankees offer a month ago. I'm on record as a believer in Phil Hughes, who I think will turn out to be a more accomplished player than anyone mentioned in these rumors, Jacoby Ellsbury included. No Sox fan wanted to see Santana end up in the Bronx, of course, but is it of mild concern that the Yankees took the - gasp! - prudent, big-picture approach here. You know if Hank "The Tank" Steinbrenner had his druthers, they'd have given up Hughes and Ian Kennedy without a moment's hesitation. He's got to be furious about Santana ending up with their back-page rival. I bet he stayed up all night in the official Steinbrenner Lair, chain-smoking Camels, cursing that prospect-hoarding know-nothing Brian Cashman, and scouring the internet for NSFW photos of Jennifer Love Hewitt.

The Yankees made the best offer, in my humble opinion, and based on what we think we know, the Sox made the second-best, at least up until Jon Lester was recently taken off the table. Yet despite the fair proposal, I'm still not convinced Theo Epstein's interest was entirely sincere. The cost - not only in dollars on Santana's extension, but in terms of prospects - had to gnaw at the Sox GM. I imagine he's entirely satisfied with the outcome today. Santana's a Met, the Yankees still desperately need a No. 1 starter, and the Sox remain the AL East favorite while retaining Ellsbury, Lester, Jed Lowrie, and Justin Masterson, prized graduates of the Player Development Machine.

Sure, the thought of Santana as a Red Sox was lovely one. But like the GM, we're attached to the kids, too, and even the Pink Hats know that Ellsbury and Lester have already contributed to one World Championship. Funny thing is, after today's developments, there's a decent chance they'll have to beat the Mets and their new ace to contribute to another one.

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As for today's Completely Random Basketball Card:


I can't believe he hasn't bailed out on the Heat yet. Save for Dwyane Wade, that's one reprehensible basketball team right now.

Everything's coming our way

Well, it looks like that blowhard gene doesn't skip a generation after all.

Seriously, how much are you loving the Hank Steinbrenner Era? He's a Jennifer Love Hewitt-diggin', tabloid-courtin', droopy-joweled version of his old man, right down to the ubiquitous blue blazer. (What, no white turtleneck? Step it up, son!)

Yes, the Steinbrenner boy possesses that famous Steinbrenner bluster. Unfortunately for him, he hasn't quite mastered the art of the ultimatum quite like his dear ol' bloviating daddy did.

First Hank deftly bullied A-Rod and shrewdly manipulated that negotiation until the poor, humiliated third baseman came crawling back to New York to accept the richest freakin' contract in baseball history. And now his take-or-leave-it offer to the Twins for ace lefthander Johan Santana hangs in the air unanswered, with Minnesota making counter proposals, disregarding his false bravado, and apparently pondering alternative options . . . including, as I suppose you've heard, an intriguing bid from those meddling Boston Red Sox.

Which brings us to the poll question of the day: Whaddaya say, Sox fans? Should they go for it? Should they do - and pay - whatever it takes to get Santana from the Twins, the side benefit being, obviously, that he does not end up in New York? I'll admit it: I've got seriously mixed feelings about the pursuit of the two-time Cy Young Award winner.

The positives, of course, should be obvious even to a dope like Steve Phillips. Santana has been the dominant pitcher in the American League for half a decade. His presence in a rotation with Josh Beckett, Dice-K, and Curt Schilling would make the Sox everyone's favorite to repeat as champs. And he's humble, charismatic, and a delight to watch, sort of a mellower, southpaw version of Pedro. Santana's easy to root for, and the citizens of Fenway would quickly come to adore him.

And yet . . .

The price is appropriately steep, both in terms of Santana's salary and personnel compensation to the Twins. I have a hard time fathoming Theo Epstein committing $20 million per season to any pitcher who will be in his mid-30s at contract's end, even one as accomplished as Santana.

And you have to figure it will take Jacoby Ellsbury and Jon Lester to make the deal happen, despite the Sox's insistence at the moment that it will be either/or. Ellsbury strikes me as somewhat overvalued right now - should the baby-faced October hero be dealt, the Pink Hats surely will weep into their $7.50 beers while yowling, "But he won us a taco!" But I stand by what I wrote in July: Ellsbury projects to be a Brett Butler type rather than the Fred Lynn/Johnny Damon hybrid his legions of admirers envision. He's talented, but hardly untouchable. But in a package with Lester, who threw the best game of his career in the biggest game of his career, and perhaps Jed Lowrie, and perhaps Justin Masterson or Michael Bowden? In that case, the status quo works for me, thanks, and given how often Epstein emphasizes the importance of having young, inexpensive contributors on the big-league roster, I imagine it will be too rich for his blood as well.

Besides, Santana may not be such a sure thing from here forward. I wrote a couple of times in the Fox column this season, he may be showing subtle signs of a decline; statistically, this was his worst season since he moved fulltime into the Minnesota rotation in 2004, and it's alarming to some degree that scouts thought he was hesitant to throw his slider during his mediocre final month of the season.

The pitcher I've often likened him to is Ron Guidry, another undersized lefty with a filthy slider who slipped from historically great to merely pretty good rather quickly. Gator's peak season - and what a season it was - came at age 27 in '78. Santana's peak has been longer and better, but he will be 29 in March, and it's worth noting that his most similar comparison on baseballreference.com from ages 26 through 28 is Tim Hudson - respectable company, sure, but not who you'd expect for a pitcher of Santana's magnitude and reputation.

Another popular question these days is this: Should we believe Epstein is sincere in his interest? I think so . . . to a point. The Sox would love to have Santana, but on their terms. But the Yankees need Santana. Huge difference. Epstein has handled this negotiation with a casual calm - no deadlines, no worries - and part of his motivation simply has to be to drive up the ransom for the desperate Yankees, who must acquire this ace unless they want to spend the next half-decade looking up to the Sox in the standings.

Logically, the Yankees have no choice but to meet the Twins' demands - even Georgie's Boy must know this. I only hope Minnesota rookie GM Bill Smith is savvy and patient enough to wait out Son of George's next dozen or so "drop-dead deadlines" until he ends up with Philip Hughes (who's actually nine months younger than Joba Chamberlain, and a superior long-term prospect to the Midge Magnet in my opinion), Mussina-wannabe Ian Kennedy, and Melky Cabrera, an adequate talent whose energy greatly exaggerates his ability.

There are indications that Smith is getting antsy to make a deal - he is apparently willing to take outfielder Austin Jackson and righty Alan Horne instead of Kennedy, a logical proposition the Yankees reportedly rejected late last night. But in the end, if the Twins don't get a collection of talent they are pleased with in exchange for the best pitcher of this decade, it's their own fault.

After all, the Yankees are desperate to get this done. Listen closely to the blustery words of the nervous man in the blue blazer, and you might even hear it.

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As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



Sox fans of a certain age have to be proud today that the deft and demanding manager of the Impossible Dream Sox is headed for Cooperstown, one of five candidates voted in by Veterans Committee today. Personally, I'm just hoping he remembers to wear pants to the induction ceremony. (By the way, Williams's autobiography, "No More Mr. Nice Guy," is a fantastic read. Can't recommend it highly enough. He rips everyone, save for his wife, Andre Dawson, and maybe Tony Gwynn.)

Late innings

The Fox column is on hiatus until pitchers and catchers head south, yet I've still got baseball on the brain, so let's chase some headlines . . .


The Red Sox re-sign Mike Lowell to a three-year, $37.5 million contract: I realize I'm late to the party on this . . . but c'mon, what's not to like? Great deal for the ball club, and a nice raise for the admirable third baseman as well, a classic win-win situation. I'm skeptical that Lowell will ever duplicate his sensational '07 season, but then, I was skeptical he would hit in the second half for the first time in his career, and all he did was win the World Series MVP award, so it wouldn't be the first time he made me look like a boob. And even if Lowell does fall off to somewhere slightly below his career norms offensively - say, if his numbers average something like .275-17-80 over the next three seasons - he'll still be well worth the sticker price, if only for his dependable defense and, yes, steadying influence in the clubhouse. Sometimes I'm suspicious that the recognition a player gets for his leadership often runs parallel to his level of cooperation with the media, but I think in the bilingual Lowell's case it's a legitimately valuable attribute. I'm glad he's still on our side, and with him and the Big Schill sticking around, it's nice to have a drama-free offseason and a chance to root for essentially the same core group next season. (By the way, isn't it just strange seeing Lowell in a Yankees uniform on that baseball card? It reminds of how disconcerting it was to open a pack of baseball cards and find this when I was 10 years old. I can't imagine the were serious about bringing their former farmhand back to play first base, though it would have been comical in this sense: Lowell would have been the second Yankee infielder in recent seasons to switch positions in order to avoid puncturing the massive ego of an inferior defender at the same position. Right, Captain?


The Angels sign Torii Hunter to a five-year, $90 million contract: I like Hunter a lot. He's charismatic and fun on the field and off, one of the most engaging interviews in any sport and a player whose passion for the game shines through in his play. He has 59 homers and 205 RBIs the past two seasons, and he's probably good for 25 homers and 90 or so RBIs a year into his mid-30s. And while all the homer-heisting "Web Gems" he made at the Metrodome probably caused him to get more credit for his defense than he deserves - should the Twins somehow acquire Covelli Crisp, he'd be an upgrade with the leather, despite what the Gold Glove voters say - Hunter remains a top-notch center fielder, even at age 32. But - and there's always a "but" around here, isn't there? - Angels rookie GM Tony Reagins is making a mistake if he thinks Hunter is the guy who's going to make life easier for Vlad Guerrero. With a .271 career average and a .324 on-base percentage, he's more suited as a No. 5 or No. 6 hitter rather than as a lineup anchor for a team with championship aspirations; to put it another way, his most similar career comparisons are Carl Everett and Preston Wilson. Zoinks, Scooby. Now, if the Angels should land Marlins enigma Miguel Cabrera - who I'd love to someday see in Boston despite his Body By Nutty Bar - then give Reagins a pat on the back and praise him for remaking the feeble Anaheim lineup (remember Maicer Izturis, No. 5 hitter?), because a heart of the order of Guerrero-Cabrera-Hunter makes them the favorite in the AL. But Hunter alone? Not enough.

The Twins reportedly offer ace Johan Santana an $80 million extension: If that's not a cue for the Red Sox, Yankees, Dodgers, Angels, and a half-dozen or so other teams to get their trade proposals into Billy Smith, pronto, I don't know what is. If Santana goes to free agency after next season, he'll make twice that, easily; hell, the offer is $47 million less than what the Giants gave a declining Barry Zito last offseason. So I guess the real question for the TATB readership is this: Would you give up, say, Jon Lester, Clay Buchholz, Jacoby Ellsbury, and another legitimate prospect such as Jed Lowrie, to bring the two-time Cy Young winner to Boston? The hunch here is that Theo Epstein, who is prideful about his "player development machine" and greatly values having low-priced, high-ceiling talent on the big-league roster, would be extremely reluctant to pay such a price, unless there's a concern about Buchholz that we're not aware of. I'm also curious if the Sox suspect, as I do, that Santana showed subtle signs of decline last season at age 28 - after all, his ERA (3.35) was the highest it's been since 2001, his ERA+ of 130 was his worst since '02, and inexplicably, he allowed a league-high 33 homers. Sure, it's fun to daydream of a Santana-Beckett 1-2 punch. But given the enormous cost - not so much in terms of salary but in terms of talent going to Minnesota - I imagine he'll end up in New York or L.A. instead. Besides, hasn't Boston plundered enough star power from the Twin Cities already?

The White Sox sign reliever Scott Linebrink to a four-year, $19 million deal: White Sox GM Kenny Williams is beginning to make me wonder if Chicago's 2005 World Championship was a happy accident. We all adore Orlando Cabrera around here, and White Sox fans will as well, but it made little sense to trade Jon Garland, a durable 28-year-old starting pitcher with 46 wins the past three seasons and a career ERA+ of 106, for a 33-year-old shortstop who had a subpar OPS+ of 95 in what at first glance looks like a very productive season (.301-8-86). I'm not saying Cabrera won't be a quality player for the White Sox - watching him play steady and occasionally spectacular shortstop every day might be enough for White Sox fans to be okay with the deal. It's just that I think Williams dramatically underestimated what he could fetch for Garland during an offseason in which the mediocre likes of Carlos Silva and Kyle Lohse are expected to sign for $8-to-$10 million per season. Chances are he could have got a heftier ransom than merely Cabrera for Garland, but at least an argument can be made for the White Sox' side in this case. There's is no logical explanation why Williams threw all that loot at Linebrink, a 30-year-old setup man who had a WHIP of 1.50 with the Brewers last season after he was dealt from San Diego. It was telling that Padres GM Kevin Towers, who knows a thing or two about putting together a pitching staff, swapped Linebrink for three prospects last July despite the fact that San Diego was in the midst of a playoff race; the Padres clearly believed that Linebrink's best days were behind him, and I'm fairly certain that Williams is the sole dissenter from that opinion right now. I realize Chicago's bullpen was flammable last season. Linebrink will do little to prevent the White Sox' late innings from going up in flames again.

David Eckstein is reportedly asking for "Lugo money," i.e. a three- or four-year deal at around $9 million per season: Yes, I understand his Everyman appeal. Yes, I know he's the patron saint of every undersized Little Leaguer and gritty, gutty, scrappy, dirt-doggy wannabe who somehow never quite was. Yes, I know he runs out every walk (all 24 of them last year) like a miniature albino Pete Rose. Yes, I know he looks so darned adorable when he dresses up like an elf, even if he really yearns to be a dentist. But the reality, at least to anyone who can assess baseball players objectively and without sentiment, is that David Eckstein . . . well, to put it bluntly, he stinks. To a clear-eyed analyst, his flaws are equally obvious on the field and on the stat sheet. He catapults the ball rather than throwing it. His range is sub-Jeterian. His career OPS+ is 89, with a mediocre best of 101. In 2006, he had 21 extra-base hits and 23 RBIs in 500 at-bats, and he wasn't much more productive last year. He is not an average baseball player; he is an aging one (he's 32), and an increasingly injury-prone one (117 games last year, 123 in '06), and by every single statistical measure, a relentlessly ineffective one. And yet I have no doubt that some ill-prepared sucker of a general manager surely will be come close to his asking price for no apparent reason other than the little fella hustles, and that dupes some people into thinking he's actually useful. So pay attention, because this is probably the only time you're going to read these words on this site: I'd much rather have Julio Lugo.

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As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



I give him all the credit in the world. Me, I would have gone by "Ricky" and saved myself the lifelong hassle.

* * *
Quick programming note: Barring unforeseen circumstances, such as yours truly snapping a tibia or two after falling off a rickety wooden ladder while following orders to clean out the gutters this morning, I'll be back tonight to live blog the Pats-Eagles game, so be sure to stop by for A.J. Feeley's public humiliation in real time.

TATB Live: World Series, Game 4

I'm rooting for more than the Red Sox tonight; I'm rooting for the story, and I imagine you know exactly what I mean.

As appropriate as it might be for ace Josh Beckett to pitch the clincher tomorrow night, if you have a sentimental bone in your body, you want Jon Lester to be the one to deliver the Red Sox their second World Championship in four seasons a few hours from now. We all know that a year ago, the young lefty had far greater concerns than throwing a baseball. Now here he is, a 23-year-old cancer survivor poised to pitch a game we will all remember. Something tells me he's up for the challenge.

Other pregame notes: Trisha Yearwood sings a lovely anthem. For the record, I'm pretty sure she's not a Beckett ex. She looks more like Gagne's type . . . In the Fox pregame, Kevin Kennedy sagely notes that the Sox have some good young homegrown players (I'm pretty sure he first heard of Jacoby Ellsbury around this time last night), Joe Girardi offers a non-denial denial on whether he's the Yankees' next manager, and Jeannie Zelasko wrestles the last chocolate coconut donut from Mark Grace's grasp. The more I see of this crew and the nitwits on ESPN, the more I appreciate TC and the Eck . . . The great Fred Willard, reading the Sox lineup: "David Ortiz, no designated hitter, he wants to play first base, YOU TELL HIM NO!"

All right, let's get this done, the less drama the better. As much as I dearly miss my angst and a lament my lost identity as a Sox fan, for as much as I secretly enjoyed the stomach-churning, soul-crushing misery inflicted upon me by Grady Little in '03, I suppose I could live with a sweep, a sequel to "Faith Rewarded," and chance to watch Papelbon make a fool out of himself during the victory parade. Yes, I suppose I could.

FIRST INNING
Ellsbury slaps Aaron Cook's second pitch into left field for the a double. In a related note, Coco Crisp catches himself daydreaming about how he'll look in a Braves uniform next season.

Cook is the Rockies' version of Jake Westbrook, an occasionally effective sinkerballer, but he hasn't pitched since August 10. The Sox shouldn't lack for baserunners. It's a matter of converting them into runs and taking the Rockies out of it early. (Wow, that was Tim McCarver-like wisdom there, was it not? Excuse me while I take a swig of Metamucil.)

Well, there's one. Ellsbury smartly advances to third on Dustin Pedroia's grounder to the left side, and David Ortiz makes it 1-0, Sox with a rocket through the right side of the drawn-in infield. Manny bounces into a double play to end the inning, but the Rockies definitely have to be left with a "here we go again" vibe.

Rockies go down 1-2-3 in their half. I'd be glad to write that sentence, oh, eight more times tonight.

My 3-year-old daughter just came out to give me one more hug goodnight, yell her patented "GoRedSoxGoRedSoxGoRedSox!," and remind me to "drink your beers." Right now I'm feeling an odd (and surely misplaced) sense of pride.

SECOND INNING
Cook breezes through Mike Lowell, J.D. Drew, and Jason Varitek in order. It's funny, this is one of the few nights during the postseason that I haven't been at the Globe, and while we have the game on in the office, obviously we're too buried trying to make first edition to pay attention to the nuances of the telecasts. So, having just noticed this, I have to ask: Does a commercial break pass without the fake camaraderie of a Budweiser ad or a completely uninteresting promo for "House"? I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

Todd Helton, Mr. Rockie, leads off with a rocketed double to left. Ellsbury cuts it off and seems to have the ball just after Helton hits the first base bag, but he still beats the throw comfortably to second base. Yes, I think the Rockies have paid attention to the scouting report on the kid's arm. Let's just say he's going to follow in the Damon/Crisp tradition of noodle arms in center field, though his is slightly stronger than both of theirs - his throws reach home plate in seven hops rather than eight.

I've said it all along: David Ortiz is not a bad first baseman. Sure, he has the range of Mo Vaughn after a KFC Snack Bowl bender, and playing D takes a fierce toll on his knees . . . but he has excellent hands, and has Jeff Suppan can tell you, his throwing arm is strong and accurate for the position. I mention this, as I'm sure you know, because he just made a smooth scoop to spare Julio Lugo a throwing error. Youkilis wouldn't have done it any better.

After Ryan Spillborghs (whom I like a lot as a fourth outfielder-type, but whom Rob Dibble killed on 'EEI the other day) flied to center, Lester fell into his maddening habit of nibbling, and walked Brad Hawpe, who has been atrocious in this series. He slips out of it without allowing Helton to score, however, getting hot-hitting Yorvit Torrealba to ground to Lugo for the third out. I should note that Lugo made his two best defensive plays of the season last night, has been steady all postseason with the glove, and is even swinging the bat well in the series. If he and Drew keep this up, Theo's second-guessers are going to have no one left to complain about. (And I include myself among them.)

THIRD INNING
Cook gets the Sox in order again, retiring Ellsbury on a slow grounder to Kaz Matsui to end the inning. So far, the Sox have just two hits. Don't know about you, but I'm starting to miss Josh Fogg.

You think Papi really plays badminton? And if so, does he call the thing a "birdie" or a "shuttlecock"? These are the kinds of questions Tina Cervasio should be asking.

Gah. And now we have our first episode of the Manny In Coors Field Adventures. Matsui rips a liner to left that, oh, 90 percent of major league left fielders would probably catch. Unfortunately, Manny is in the other 10 percent, and it soars just past his reach and rattles around for a double. All of the statistical measures that I'm aware of say Manny is a horrendous defensive player, and while I happen to think he's made himself at least an adequate Fenway outfielder, this play gave us a sense of how much his home park masks his lack of range. (Part of it, I think, is that Manny has only one speed: ambling.)

Lester whiffs Troy Tulowitzki for the second time tonight. I saw the Rockies a lot this season on the MLB.com package (in part because they're so damn fun to watch as far as NL teams go, but mostly because I had Matt Holliday in a semi-lucrative fantasy league), and I think between here and in my Fox column I've made my appreciation for Tulowitzki apparent. You watch him play for any length of time, you can't help but think he's a bigger, rangier, less metrosexual version of Derek Jeter. The kid is going to be the Colorado cornerstone for the next decade. Now, that said, this series for him thus far can be filed under Learning Experience. To put it another way: The shortstop in the Boston dugout has been much better, and that's not something we've said about Julio Lugo, well, ever.

(And while I was writing Tulowitzki's biography, Lester whiffed Holliday. So far, so good, kid.)

FOURTH INNING
As Pedroia leads off the inning, Ken Rosenthal (who I hope to meet someday at the FoxSports company picnic, just to see if he really is three feet shorter that Eric Wedge, as it appeared during an ALCS postgame interview) tells us that Pedroia refers to his at-bats as "the laser show" and that his cockiness is an "endless source of amusement" to his veteran teammates. It really is a tribute to Pedroia's ability and "I'll-show-you" attitude that he could be such a vital part of this lineup and clubhouse after looking so overmatched in April. If you don't like Dustin Pedroia, you don't like the Red Sox. (By the way: Pedroia could definitely call Rosenthal "little fella.")

Pedroia grounds out, Papi pops out, Manny lines out, and I'm really beginning to become suspicious of this Aaron Cook character. Just where has he been the last two months, anyway?

Francona, when asked during those usually insipid in-dugout interviews what Lester's pitch count is tonight: " 'Bout 180." The dry wit (teetering on sarcasm) is a tremendously underrated aspect of Tito's appeal.

Joe Buck usually oozes smarm, but I have to admit, he's made a couple of good points tonight, especially in noting that the 2004 Sox might have had more talent than this team, but that the '07 version is set up for the future much better than the veteran-laden Idiots were. I hadn't thought of it that way, but he's right.

Lester retires the first two hitters, walks Spillborghs, then gets Hawpe on a popup to end it. Very, very impressive. If he keeps this up, he might be pitching Tim Wakefield into retirement.

FIFTH INNING
Good things happening. Lowell leads off with a double into the left field canyon. Drew grounds out without advancing the runner, but Varitek follows with a ground single to right, and DeMarlo Hale sends Lowell despite Hawpe's cannon. It looked like it would be a bang-bang play at the plate, but Lowell makes a beautiful slide and touches the plate with his hand for a 2-0 Boston lead. If there's any justice, upon returning to the dugout Lowell was greeted by Theo holding a three-year, $39 million contract offer.

We always hear that Lester is one of the purest athletes on the team, one of those three-sport-captain types who shoots an 85 his first time on a golf course and can dunk a basketball while wearing street clothes. But he doesn't particularly athletic with a baseball bat in his hands, and he fails to get a bunt down in three tries with two on and one out. Ellsbury follows by striking out (the Rockies have apparently figured out he'll fish for the low-and-in stuff), and we might consider this the first real lost opportunity of the night.

SIXTH INNING
See, this is where I really miss my angst. The Sox have a 2-0 lead, hardly insurmountable, and Manny Delcarmen, who has spent the postseason wearing a wide-eyed, "Holy bleep, I can't believe I'm pitching for the Red Sox in the playoffs!" look on his face, is warming up in the bullpen. If this were, say, 2003, I'd be chomping my fingernails and wondering how they were going to lose this one. Instead, I'm nursing a Shipyard Pumpkinhead, casually typing in my inanities here, and fully expecting that somehow, the Sox will be celebrating in Denver tonight. If enjoying this likable, well-run, winning baseball team means we've lost our identities, well dammit, I hope we never find them.

By the way:



Dude, I know. I don't believe it, either.

Pedroia, Papi, and Manny hit three straight ground outs, Cook is cruising, and I sure hope Lester can give them another easy inning or two.

All right, now I'm a little nervous. (IT'S NOT ANGST, LOBEL!!!) After retiring Holliday and Helton on, what, four pitches, Lester walks Atkins on a 3-2 count, and that after it looked like he had struck him out on ball three. I'm not going to question Francona's decision to remove Lester for Delcarmen here, because heaven knows Tito is managing circles around everyone this postseason (just as he did in '04). It's just that Lester has been so good, and Delcarmen so shaky lately, and . . . Delcarmen blows Spillborghs away. Tito, I hope I get the chance to buy you a beer someday so you can tell me how you keep a clear head (figuratively as well as literally, I suppose) with nitwits like me second-guessing you at every turn. Hey, did I ever mention I wanted the Sox to hire Glenn Freakin' Hoffman after Grady was sent back to Hillbillyville? I didn't? Well, let's keep it that way.

SEVENTH INNING
Lowell, solo homer, 3-0 Sox. PAY. THE. MAN. And that does it for Cook, who induced 13 groundball outs and did everything the Rockies could have asked for given his inaction the last two months.

Says Buck: "What a night for Mike Lowell. This could be his last night in a Red Sox uniform." You think so, Nepotism Boy? Well, aren't you going to be surprised when Theo presents him with a four-year, $52 million contract offer between innings.

Jeremy Affeldt in for the Rockies. I have never understood why this kid isn't a consistently excellent big-league pitcher - he has some wildness issues, but he has an unbelievable arm, and he's a lefty. I'd rather have him than every single Javier Lopez ever to play in the big leagues. (Official TATB Sportswriting Binky Joe Posnanski had a melancholy anecdote about being dazzled by Affeldt one hopeful spring day during his Royals days in a recent blog post.)

Lonestar does a fine countrified rendition of God Bless America. By the way, didn't they play at the Red Sox kickoff dinner that NESN showed three times a day in April? I wonder if the Rockies are aware of their dual loyalties. (And no, none of them dated Josh Beckett, either. That I'm aware of.)

Affeldt does the job. Nine outs away.

Well, here we go. Hawpe takes Delcarmen deep to cut it to 3-1, and I hate to say it, but you could see it coming. When Delcarmen is wild high, it's because he's overthrowing . . . and he's wild high right now. As the Sox infield coverges on Delcarmen to settle him down (Papi was particularly animated), the Fox cameras show Mike Timlin and The Hero In The Dark are up in the bullpen for the Sox. I wonder how many outs Okajima and Papelbon are capable of getting tonight.

Delcarmen retires Torrealba on a flyout, then Cory Sullivan singles, and that'll do it for the pride of Hyde Park. Timlin is coming in, and while he had nothing last night, I have faith in him in this situation that I didn't have in Manny D. This might be one of those situations were experience and poise is preferable to pure ability.

Sit, Matsui. Huge whiff for Timlin. Now he must get Tulowitzki, because Holliday as the go-ahead run is an absolutely terrifying thought.

Bless his 41-year-old, slopballin'-huntin'-fishin'-possum'-killin' soul, but Timlin whiffs Tulowitzki on a 3-2 pitch, and that right there is why Tito was so loyal to Timlin when he looked cooked in April and nitwits like me were urging the Sox to move on. That may have been the pivotal moment tonight, and just as he did so often in the '03 and '04 playoffs, Timlin came through.

Remember all the times I said Tulowitzki reminds me of Jeter? Still does.

EIGHTH INNING
This clown . . .


. . . leads off as a pinch hitter with an absolute moonshot to left, and it's 4-1, Sox. Hey, we always heard Bobby Kielty mashed lefties. He sure picked a swell time to finally show it.

Rosenthal jumps in with perhaps the first worthwhile "breaking news" report by a sideline reporter in the history of television: Alex Rodriguez will turn down the Yankees' five-year, $150-million offer and opt out of his contract, the alleged reason being he is concerned with the direction of the Yankees.

Buck and Rosenthal are speculating that A-Rod may be with the Sox next season, especially if Lowell isn't back. I'm sure I am looking at this with sentiment rather than logic right now, but screw A-Rod; Mike Lowell belongs on this team, not him. Slappy's made to be a villain. And by the way, you're telling me Boras didn't plant this story for this precise moment? He can't put a price on the publicity. I might think he was trying to steal the Sox' thunder, but since it makes the Yankees' look bad, I'll look at it as a rich dessert after a delicious meal. It's not necessary, but it sure tastes good.

Okajima in for the Sox. Bless him for his warrior mentality, but he has to be exhausted. His arm must feel like he spent the past five seasons pitching for Joe Torre.

Holliday grounds out (0 for 4), but Helton pokes one to left (he's a perma-helmet away from being John Olerud at this point), bringing up Atkins with one out. Huge batter here.

Dammit, I shouldn't have said anything. Atkins, who was long overdue, tees off on a 3-1 pitch, cutting the margin to 4-3. That's all for Oki, who I have a hard time faulting considering it seems like he pitched a high-stress inning or two every single day all summer and fall. Anyway, here comes Papelbon. Does he have five outs in that right arm tonight?

Spillborghs is making Papelbon work. It's imperative to keep him off base with Hawpe coming up . . . and Spillborghs grounds to Lugo as I'm pecking that out.

Hawpe, after at least one hideous swing, hit it on the screws to left-center . . . and did I mention that Coco Crisp is in as a defensive replacement, with Ellsbury moving over? Three outs to go. A couple extra runs wouldn't hurt in the top of the ninth, however.

NINTH INNING
Two outs, top of the ninth, one run lead, and Joe Buck is conceding everything to the Sox, calling them "the standard by which all other teams are measured - including the New York Yankees." It's a lovely sentiment, it really is . . . but can we save the freakin' bouquets until there are three more outs, please? At least McCarver is silent. Must have dozed off again.

Tek grounds to Jamey Carroll (who looks like Mike Piazza's Mine-Me), and to the bottom of the ninth we go . . .

Torrealba. Pedroia. Two outs to go.

IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE? SOMEONE PLEASE RE-START MY HEART! (Seriously, if that's Manny out there, I say Carroll's ball Cansecos off his head and we have a tie game. Also, I'm pretty sure what I feel for Jacoby Ellsbury right now is how my sister felt about Simon LeBon when she was 12. Or maybe it was Nick Rhodes, can't remember. God, I'm so nervous I'm having "Tiger Beat" flashbacks.)

Seth Smith. Swinging. Strike three.

Game over. Series over. Red Sox win.

Also . . .

WHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(No, seriously.)

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

(For the record, the only angst I feel right now is that I didn't buy a friggin' couch in April.)

* * *

So my little boy, 14 months, just woke up, something that may or may not have had to do with the gutteral howl that came from the living room. Curiously, the same thing happened when his big sister was eight months old and the Sox had just ended 86 years of disappointment, agony, and yes, angst. Like I did with Leah three years ago, I brought Alex out, pointed to the TV, and said, "The Red Sox just won the World Series. Someday, that will mean a lot to you." Oh, this victory doesn't lift a burden or end any fictional curse or shut up that #*$**$ Yankees fan that's been on your case for years, but go ahead and try to tell me the joy doesn't wash over you just the same.

I'm Globe-bound the next few days - I keep hearing something about a special section - but I'll be back in the next few days to crank out TATB's annual season wrapup. Given that I started this site in large part because I regretted not having an outlet to write about the magic of '04, I promise that when I get the story of 2007 posted, it will be done right. In the meantime, I'm going to pop open that last Shipyard or two or six, lean back on the couch I wish I had replaced eight months ago, and savor this. I imagine I'll throw a few more notes on here in the next hour or so, but if you're checking out to go celebrate, I just want to say thanks for joining me tonight, and always. This - this - is why I do this. -- CHAD

* * *





POSTGAME STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS WHILE CHUGGING BEERS, FLIPPING CHANNELS, AND SAVORING THE CELEBRATION: Mike Lowell, World Series MVP. All right, six years, $84 million, but that's the final offer. (Seriously, he'd better be under contract by the time he boards the duck boat.) . . . Just caught Gammons talking about Jon Lester's performance tonight. I thought he was going to cry, and I can't blame him. I agree with the commenter on this post: That's the best game Lester ever pitched. I had my doubts about this kid before he got sick, wondering if his failure to trust his stuff would hinder his ability to live up to his talent. After all he's gone through - and how he came through it - how can anyone ever doubt him about anything again? . . . The 2004 team will always mean the most to me - you know what they say about never forgetting your first. But this one is special in its own way, and anyway, that comparison is for another day. One of the truly unique aspects of this team is the impact of the young players. Pedroia is going to own the city - he's a Dirt Dog with actual talent. Ellsbury is a jolt of electricity. We know what Lester accomplished tonight, and Papelbon has been established for so long that it almost feels like he was here in '04. Theo's dream of a "player development machine" has become a reality . . . NESN just showed footage of the '04 celebration, and I swear on a holy stack of media guides, Royce Clayton was in the middle of that one too . . .I've said it before, and I'm guessing a lot more of you agree with me now: There's no one else I'd rather have managing the Boston Red Sox than Terry Francona. He's now 8-0 in the World Series and 22-9 in the postseason. He's Joe Torre with a little bit of an edge and a knack for handling a bullpen. He's the right man at the right time in the right town. That "Francoma" b.s. has always been born from the miniscule minds of morons. I hope he never has to hear it again. It's time he got the universal appreciation from Sox fans he deserves . . . Timlin just brought Wakefield to the verge of tears, interrupting the knuckleballer's interview with Don Orsillo to praise him for being such a selfless teammate. Nice gesture by Timlin, and it clearly meant a lot to Wakefield. They're getting emotional in their old age . . . Julio Lugo and J.D. Drew are World Champions. Chew on that for a minute. And you know what? The way they played the last seven days, they damn sure deserve it . . . All right, I'm officially gassed, in a delirious way, of course. But before I go, I'll sign off with the sage words of an old friend, the most optimistic Sox fan I know (he knows who he is):

FIRE UP THE DUCK BOATS!!!!

(And to all, a good night.)

(P.S. - How'd the Pats do today?)

Nine innings 8.8.07

Playing nine innings while wondering how giddy Suzyn Waldman will be if David Wells shows up in Georgie Porgie's private box . . .


1. Watching this Angels series has reminded me how much I enjoyed watching Orlando Cabrera play shortstop for the Red Sox. I realize there are a lot of rumors about why the Sox didn't bring him back, and I have to admit that I thought Edgar Renteria would be an upgrade, at least offensively. But it's downright insulting to think that Sox management dared to descibe Julio Lugo in the same terms that we'd use for Cabrera - dynamic, aggressive, popular in the clubhouse - when there is clearly no similarity between the two players beyond the defensive position they play.

2. Kevin Youkilis was a lot more likable before he decided he should be able to call his own balls and strikes.

3. I realize my hindsight here is sharper than a great hitter's vision, but given that Manny Delcarmen seems to be regressing to his previous inconsistent form while Jermaine Dye is leading the majors in home runs since the All-Star break (11), is it possible that Theo Epstein should have taken White Sox GM Kenny Williams up on what looked like a lopsided trade request at the time? The object, after all, is to win the World Series, and given the ominousness of Papi's shoulder problems, I'm thinking a trade of Delcarmen, Wily Mo Pena, and Craig Hansen for Dye would greatly enhance this team's chances in October without mortgaging too much of the future.

4. He's worthy of endless admiration for what he's overcome, and Fenway will rock with emotion he makes his first home start of the season next week . . . but man, am I wrong to say it's just excruciating to watch Jon Lester pitch? Every time I look up at the TV, it seems like there are two runners on base and he's got a 3-1 count on some bottom-of-the-order schlub. I understand he's probably not at full strength yet, but right now he's the same maddening nibbler who seemed to turn every start into a 4-hour marathon as a rookie. I wonder if the Sox think Clay Buchholz is close to ready.

5. Brief NBA interlude: Reggie Miller, shooting guard, Boston Celtics? Sure, why not? He's one of those blessed shooters who will be able to knock down an open 20-footer on his death bed, he's still in shape and had decent game when he retired two years ago (14.8 ppg), and it will drive Boston-hating Spike Lee over the edge. Given that he'd only be asked to play a dozen minutes or so a game, it seems like a brilliant outside-the-box idea on Danny Ainge's part. I hope it happens.

6. This nightly hissing contest between the Blue Jays and the Yankees has the potential to be the best intra-AL East feud since the Devil Rays were using Brian Daubach for target practice and Ice Williams tried to forcibly remove Pedro's jheri curl a half-decade ago.

7. The Red Sox would be much better served - and their offense would probably be much more productive at the moment - if Tito Francona fined Papi every time he even attempts to slide. You just knew he was going to get hurt on the basepaths at some point.

8. I'm convinced Brandon Moss is going to put up Trot Nixon-like numbers as an everyday big-league player. (And by that I mean Healthy Trot, not Stuffed Full of Crullers and Limping Trot we came to know the past few seasons.) But that day looks very far away right now, doesn't it? I have seen someone in a Sox uniform wear such an obvious deer-in-the-headlights look since Grady Little was patting Pedro on the back and securing his place in infamy one October night at Yankee Stadium.

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


"When the Iranians were holding our embassy people captive, instead of the Marines we should have sent Burleson and [Rico] Petrocelli over there. They would have come back in 48 hours with the hostages, the Ayatollah, and a couple million barrels of oil." - Bill Lee

Nine innings 08.04.07

Playing nine innings (multi-sport edition) while feeling bad about ripping on J.D. Drew now that we know what he's going through . . .





1. Yup, apparently I'm making Kevin Garnett photo collages now. I guess it's still just surreal that perhaps the most likable NBA superstar of the last decade is on the Celtics, and I'm still savoring the whole thing, four days after the trade. It's funny, I've been trying to explain how significant this is to the lapsed Celtics fans I know, and I just keep coming back to the same point: Kevin Garnett will restore Celtic Pride. I guarantee it. He is the perfect player in the perfect place at the perfect time. He's a superstar who plays with the hunger and desperation of a 12th man. He's maniacal about winning. He's selfless, sometimes to a fault, though with Paul Pierce and Ray Allen as his wingmen, he won't always be counted on to take the last shot. He's a genuine leader who gets bonus points for once socking Wally Szczerbiak. His charisma, as those only vaguely familiar with him learned at his introductory press conference, is off the charts. He will thrive in the Boston sports atmosphere, and the city is going to adore him. There's nothing not to like about this deal, for the Celtics matter now, and if it took trading five players (including the admirable Al Jefferson and Ryan Gomes) and two draft picks to make that happen, I say it was a bargain price to pay. Of course there's no way the Celtics should be getting 9-1 odds to win the championship, and of course they need to build some semblance of a bench before they can even be considered a contender. But you've heard the the buzzword we've been throwing around the last few days - "relevance" - and no matter whether Danny Ainge's plan to restore the franchise was by luck or design, he has made the Celtics relevant by bringing Garnett to Boston. I simply cannot wait for opening night. When was the last time any of us said that?

2. I'm not saying this Barry Bonds "chase" is dragging, but by the time he gets to 756, his ubiquitous daughter is going to be married with a family of her own, Greg Anderson will have escaped from Alcatraz or wherever he's rotting away with his misplaced loyalty, and Bud Selig and his snap-on toupee will have long since gone to the great used-car lot in the sky.

3. Assuming Randy Moss's hamstring is okay - and wouldn't that be a bummer to you, me, and Mr. Brady if this thing lingers into the season? - here's how I rate the Patriots' bounty of receivers. 1. Moss (He's still got it.) 2. Wes Welker (He's already on the same page as Brady, who raves about him.) 3. Jabar Gaffney (Smart, and the longer he is here, the better he gets.) 4. Donte Stallworth (An injury-prone tease.) 5. Troy Brown (They wouldn't have brought him back if there wasn't a guaranteed place for him . . . right?) 6. Reche Caldwell (Stop staring at me!) 7. Kelley Washington (Too skilled not to catch on elsewhere). 8. Chad Jackson (Take the year off, kid, and learn the playbook.)

4. Eddie House is the definition of an NBA vagabond, but he's going to be a popular player with the Celtics. He can shoot it (and as a Garbage Time All-Star, he's not shy about doing so), and as anyone who read ":07 Seconds Or Less," Jack McCallum's excellent book on the '05-'06 Phoenix Suns, can attest, he's a clubhouse comedian, armed with countless hilarious anecdotes and one-liners. He'll be a good fit here, and I bet he's an honorary member of Garnett's legendary posse in no time.

5.Just when you thought the pink hat-pandering Red Sox couldn't get more crass, you discover they are selling autographed Jon Lester "Survivor" baseballs on Red Sox.com - and donating only 10 percent of the profits to the Jimmy Fund. Shouldn't, say, 100 percent of the profits go to the franchise's signature charity? I hope there is a genuinely philanthropic reason for this, but right now it sure looks like an shameful money grab by the Sox marketing minions, and one that takes advantage of Lester's status as an inspiration.

6. Watching a droopy-faced Roger Clemens lumber off the mound in the second inning Thursday to a chorus of Bronx cheers, I had two thoughts: 1) Thanks goodness he's finally in the twilight of his career there and not here, and, 2) Of all the dramatic things you've evah seen, Suzyn, where does this rank?

7. I'll admit I'm hooked on "The Bronx Is Burning," not that I think it's any good. Oliver Platt's portrayal of George Steinbrenner is way too cartoonish (yes, that's possible), the emphasis on the Yankees' clubhouse drama relegates the fascinating Son of Sam and NYC blackout subplots to haphazardly tacked-on footnotes, and the actor playing Reggie Jackson really looks like Jackie Chiles in an Afro wig. At least the guy playing Thurman Munson is a ringer for the aeronautically challenged Yankees captain (ouch . . . too soon?), though his portrayal fails to capture Munson's chronic grumpiness. It's a fun, mindless diversion, I suppose, especially for a child of the '70s, but more than anything it's made me want to read Jonathan Mahler's well-regarded book.

8. In my typically ham-handed way of begging you to read this week's Fox column, I've got a hypothetical for you. Say the Twins make Johan Santana, a free agent after '08 who recently voiced his frustration with the front office, available in a deal this offseason. Put on your gorilla suit and pretend you're Theo Epstein for a moment, then ask yourself this: What would you offer Terry Ryan in exchange for the two-time Cy Young Award winner? Obviously, the bidding starts with Clay Buchholz. But who else is in the package? Jon Lester? Justin Masterson? Jacoby Ellsbury? Buchholz, Lester, Masterson, and Ellsbury? What do you think it would take . . . and what would you do? Discuss.

9. Today's completely random baseball card:


This one's a hat tip to TATB writing binky Joe Posnanski, who reminded me with this piece why I fell for baseball 29 years ago, and why it's still such a part of me despite my working in a profession that turns fans into cynics.

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.

* * *

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.

* * *

As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



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

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.

Marked man

Playing nine innings while wondering what Papi and his torn meniscus were doing playing in the All-Star game . . .


1. I know it's probably cold and heartless of me given all that he has overcome, but if the Texas Rangers are willing to take Jon Lester as the centerpiece in a trade for Mark Teixeira, I hope Theo says, "You've got yourself a deal, Daniels," without even a single sentimental second thought. Teixeira is exactly the hitter the Sox need, and it would free them up to trade Mike Lowell (c'mon, you really expect him to hit in the second half like he did in the first?) for some depth. I'm not sweating the Sox' ongoing lethargy - the Yankees are too flawed to take advantage, and besides, the Sox went through the same thing in '04 and that turned out okay - but the more I see this lineup get shut down by the likes of Jesse Litsch and Ryan Feierabend, the more one-run games I see them lose, the more certain I become that they need another Grade A bat in the heart of the lineup. Yeah, there are signs that Manny and Papi are about to bust out of their power drought, but isn't it still alarming that they had a combined 30 (thirty!) fewer homers at the break this year than they did a season ago? Teixeira, who already has put up seasons of 38, 43, and 33 homers at age 27, would ease their burden tremendously, and that he's a switch-hitter only enhances his appeal. And as arrogant though it may sound, I'm convinced that once Teixeira, an East Coast kid who recently ripped the Rangers for their lack of commitment to winning, got to experience playing at Fenway, he'd do everything in his power to stay after his contract expires in '08. Yes, Lester is a talent, no doubt, and we'll never question his spirit or his mental toughness after all he's endured. But I still wonder about his command issues, and while 'EEI callers seem to fail to grasp this concept, to get something you usually need to give something up. For Mark Teixeira, giving up Lester would be worth it.

2. The Mike Timlin rejuvenation is one of the more pleasant (and downright shocking) developments of the season, and it couldn't come at a better time considering that the next time we read Brendan Donnelly's name in the newspaper I suspect it may be accompanied by a reference to a visit with Dr. James Andrews.

3. Had to chuckle when Cable-Access Geffner, while talking with Dave O'Brien about the Police's upcoming visit to Fenway during today's radio broadcast, put on his public relations hat and dutifully rattled off the list of all the great acts who have played there in recent years . . . but one rather notable omission. Mick who? Never heard of him, Dr. Steinberg. Then again, Geffner admitted he wasn't much of a fan of Sting and the boys back in their stellar '80s heyday, which I suppose really shouldn't come as a surprise. I'm pretty sure that's when Geffner was going through his "Like a Virgin" phase.

4. Wily Mo Pena is by all accounts a good-natured, hardworking kid, and there's no denying he has the raw physical talent to hit 35+ home runs in a major league season someday. But even to those of us who thought dealing Bronson Arroyo for him was a shrewd move must admit the truth right now: It would be better for him and the ball club if he moved on. He needs to play every day for a ball club like Kansas City or Pittsburgh (Xavier Nady for Wily Mo? Yes, please) where he can get the 500 at-bats he needs to hone his skills, particularly when it comes to pitch recognition. I like him, and I root for him to make it big, but it's just not going to happen for him here.

5. When - not if, when - A-Rod opts out of his contract with the Yankees and leaves his private New York hell behind after this professionally redemptive season, what he should do is sign with the Angels, who are a perfect match: They have a desperate need for a hitter of his talents, and they happen to play in a city and a ballpark that are as inauthentic as the player himself. But I've said it before and I'll say it again: Four seasons after they first courted him, I think there is a very real chance he ends up with the Red Sox. It would be doable financially (Lowell, Clement, Eric Hinske and Curt Schilling are coming off the books), it would work roster-wise (Lowell is a free agent), it would work from both sides' presumed desire to stick it to New York (c'mon, you don't think he hungers to beat Jeter?), and most of all, it works just like it did in the winter of '03-'04, when he was willing to take a pay cut to come here and Larry Lucchino and Dr. Charles were practically giggling like schoolgirls while plotting how they'd market him as the face of the franchise to all the loyal sucke . . . er, residents of Red Sox Nation. I'm not saying I want this to happen (though if we can root for Randy Moss, accepting A-Rod as one of our own probably won't break the Hypocrisy Meter), and I'm not saying it will happen . . . but I think I would be more surprised if the Sox don't try to make this happen than if they do.

6. In case you missed it - and I'm really hoping you did - Jeter won the ESPY for the Best Baseball Player. So to answer the longstanding question, yes, there is an award more meaningless and arbitrary than the Gold Glove.

7. I tend to think Jason Varitek gets too much credit for certain immeasurable things, such as his game-calling. There are a lot of pitchers who have faltered on his watch while later thriving elsewhere, and I'm with Remy; Why was Papelbon messing around with a cutter with the game on the line against Detroit last week? Going back further, why would anyone ever call for a low-and-away fastball to A-Rod? (I know, I know, let it go). But there is simply no exaggerating his value to the Red Sox right now, not only because of his somewhat surprising bounce-back season at the plate at age 35, but mostly because the dropoff from Tek to Dougie Chicken Parm is like going from Jessica Biel to Jessica Tandy. It's so unappealing that you don't even want to think about it.

8. I wrote about this in my Sox GameDay column a few days ago, but I'll regurgitate it here in case you didn't see it. I'm convinced Clay Buchholz will be pitching for the Red Sox after four or five starts at Pawtucket, provided things go as well in Triple A as his talent suggests they will. He's on the same path Papelbon was on in '05: half a season at Portland, a handful of starts at Pawtucket, and then a promotion to the big leagues as a live arm to help the playoff push. You might recall that by the end of the '05 postseason, Papelbon was the Sox' most effective pitcher. I doubt that will be the case with Buchholz, simply because the Sox staff is so much deeper and more talented than it was in '05 (see: Matt Clement, Game 1 starter, ALDS), but he will be a factor, whether it's in the rotation or as one more power arm out of the 'pen.

9. As for today's Completely Random 8x10 Photo*:


Fourteen years after Dan Duquette insisted Stairs could hit big-league pitching if someone just looked past the bowling-pin physique and gave him a chance, the 39-year-old Bangor, Maine resident is still proving him right.

* - Because we couldn't find a card of him in a Sox uni.

P.S. - For those of you who aren't tired of reading my nonsense after this disaster, here's my lastest Fox column, if you missed it. Man, I'm awesome at this self-promotion stuff, aren't I?

Winter ball

When I grabbed the PowerBook and plunked down on the couch tonight, I intended to peck out a First and 10 column on state of the Patriots after their grinder of a victory over the wretched Lions Sunday. But with the news that the Sox have finally signed both J.D. Drew and Julio Lugo - I think both of these deals were first rumored during the Lou Gorman administration - baseball again grabbed the headlines in the sports pages of my mind. (You have no idea how much I wish I could cover these winter meetings. Man, it looks like such a blast. Maybe someday.) Anyway, we'll get to the Pats in the next day or so, providing they aren't again trumped by some relevant Red Sox developments. As for today's news, some thoughts we've been meaning to share . . .


• NESN jostled Jerry Remy from hibernation to appear in-studio on its nightly Hot Stove program, and we're glad to report he's as on top of his game now as he would be during a tense July showdown with the Yankees. He brought particular insight regarding Terry Francona's proclamation today that he expects Manny Ramirez to be with the Sox on opening day. Said RemDawg: "Terry Francona wants Manny Ramirez off this team. He wanted him off the team the last six week of the season, and he was adamant about that. Listening to the comments he makes, he's trying to do one of two things: Build up Manny to the rest of baseball so they can trade him, or smooth things out because he knows he's coming back." I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've heard anyone with credibility step up and say definitively that Francona feels Manny is more trouble than he's worth. Remy himself was clearly disgusted with Manny's absence late last season, yet unlike the Gerry Callahans of the media world who can barely suppress an irrational hatred for the goofball left fielder, Remy conceded that he's all but irreplaceable and sounded as if he wasn't dead-set on seeing him leave Boston. "I don't know who you could bring in except for Albert Pujols to make up for the loss of Manny," he said. All in all, it was compelling and rewarding television. Sure, Remy might be a huckster, but there's no one better at cutting to the chase and analyzing the sport. Even in December.


• I'm probably overdoing the Remy stuff here, but I also feel obligated to note how refreshingly blunt he was regarding the acquisition of J.D. Drew: "I haven't heard many good things about him," Remy admitted, before becoming the second prominent media person to compare Drew to Fred Lynn this week, following Peter Gammons's lead. Remy offered an interesting take on his laid-back former teammate: "I believe, and I think [Fred] believes, that if he stayed here his whole career, he'd be a Hall of Fame ballplayer . . . Because Boston pushed him, and sometimes, that works both ways . . . There's extra pressure to perform here, but sometimes you find out that certain guys you don't expect are at their best under pressure." I'd call that a lukewarm endorsement of Drew's chances here, but if the Sox are getting the second coming of Fragile Freddy, I think we'd all be satisfied with that, flaws and all.

• So what's my take on tonight's news? Well, I'm swallowing hard at the length and money of the Drew contract and reluctantly approving of the signing, with the caveat that he's coming here as the No. 5 hitter the Sox desperately need behind Manny and not as Manny's replacement in the four-slot behind Papi. As for his alleged laissez-faire attitude toward the game, my official position is that I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt, in part because I hate the idea of running a player out of town before he actually arrives, and in part because I've vacillated so much with my opinion on Drew that three people I respect this week accused me of pulling a Glenn Ordway and trying to have it both ways. And to be honest, I probably did go overboard with the hyperbole in my criticism, particularly by calling him a Cowardly Lion. That does a disservice to his talent, and here's hoping Drew makes me to look like a fool, even if it's apparent that I'm perfectly capable of doing so myself. As for the Julio Lugo deal, I think I can be a little less wishy-washy with this one: The Sox will regret this, they will regret this soon, and they will regret this dearly. I've never understood Theo's fascination with this average, erratic ballplayer, and I'm pretty sure I never will.


• Tom Verducci, a fantastic writer who nonetheless sometimes strikes me as the national beat writer/apologist for the Yankees, was the first to report today that Andy Pettitte could be rejoining Satan's Traveling All-Stars by the end of the week. Man, I hope this doesn't happen. While he's 34 and seems to battle elbow problems with increasing frequency in recent years, there's still a lot to like: He was outstanding in the second half for the Astros last season, he's a better bargain (hell, perhaps a better pitcher) than Barry Zito, he'd offer a huge boost to a Yankees rotation that is pocked by question marks and injuries, and his presence would likely make the Yankees the front-runners for his buddy Roger Clemens once the transparent dope ends his faux-retirement for the 21st consecutive season. Here's hoping the man they call Donkey hangs 'em up or remains in Houston. We don't need the Yankees pulling off a free-agent steal here.

• No matter what happens the rest of the offseason, this is the most encouraging news the Boston Red Sox could possibly receive. And how much do you admire young Jon Lester for the public grace and poise with which he faced his illness? Pretty remarkable person. Given his talent and character, the Sox are blessed to have him.

• As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


Here's hoping he's the next beneficiary of John Henry's wallet.