If you came here this morning expecting some sort of semi-coherent preview on the Sox/Angels series, you can find my best attempt at that over here. Gotta push the paying gig first, peeps.
As for a brief elaboration . . . well, I guess it's just funny, considering how many words I spent the last few months of the season whining and worrying about the Sox' postseason prognosis, that I'm feeling strangely fine about their chances in this series.
The Angels' John Lackey is a legitimate ace with an accomplished postseason resume, but he's also 1-6 with a 6.27 ERA against the Sox in his career, and I don't think he's capable of matching Josh Beckett, who I get the sense is on a freakin' mission to duplicate his '03 heroics with the Marlins. This is his chance to cement a legacy as Boston's next great ace, and he knows it.
All things considered I've got a pretty good feeling about Dice-K in Game 2 (assuming Tito keeps him on a short leash to prevent his patented walk-walk-homer meltdown), and I think the Angels are the one team in the playoffs with an offense distinctly inferior to Boston's, especially with Vlad Guerrero apparently held together by athletic tape nowadays.
I say Papi adds another moment to his personal postseason highlight reel, Dustin Pedroia, J.D. Drew, and Jonathan Papelbon each take a turn in the hero's spotlight, and the Sox win the thing in 4.
(As far as that other AL series goes: Go, Tribe! . . . obviously. I know it's perhaps the greatest rivalry in sports, but I've had a enough Sox-Yankees playoff drama for one lifetime, thanks.)
And just for a touch of a good karma, here's a random YouTube video from a long-ago PawSox game that includes footage of Butch Hobson, Chico Walker, and a giddy Mark Fidrych. If a mention of that trio of TATB favorites can't bring good vibes to the Sox tonight, nothing will. (Oh, and Dave "Spaghetti" Righetti? Seriously, announcer guy?)
So tell me, which empire is more anxious right now: that decrepit, ancient dynasty crumbling in the Bronx, or Jordan's Furniture and its marketing wizards who, at least according to the accounts here, might be wondering if they made a multimillion-dollar miscalculation by pandering to Sox fans?
The Yankees' problems are well-documented, particularly if you are one of those Boston fans who engages in a little bit of schaedenfreude and checks out the New York tabloids each morning. (Some variation on "JOE MUST GO!!" seems to be a rather popular headline theme these days.) And we admit we chuckle at the thought of Jordan's shrewd "We're betting on the Red Sox!" promotion backfiring to the point that a second world championship in four years would force them to fork over enough free loveseats and sectionals to furnish every spare room in New England. Talk about a win-win situation.
Now, it's not like we're not setting aside a portion of our paycheck to save for World Series tickets just yet . . . but man, what's happening at Fenway Park right now is pretty amazing, isn't it? The Sox, 28-12 and 10 (ten!) games ahead of the Yankees at this writing, are just plain feelin' it, as evidenced by Thursday's doubleheader sweep of the AL champion Tigers. In the first game, the hero was the fifth starter, Julian Tavarez. In the second win, the hero was the fifth outfielder, Eric Hinske. When the roster's afterthoughts are sharing turns in the spotlight, you know times are good.
So can they keep it up? Can they run away with this thing and take all suspense out of the summer? Let's put it this way: If you can promise that they will stay reasonably healthy, I'll guarantee that they'll win their first AL East title since the managerial days of that mustache-farming, Canseco-coddling egomaniac, Kevin Kennedy. The offense is leading the AL in runs despite limited contributions from Manny and J.D. Drew, and even if the likes of Mike Lowell and the criminally underappreciated Kevin Youkilis cool off, they should put plenty of crooked numbers on the scoreboard. Plus, their elite starting pitching will prevent long losing streaks, and while their lengthy lead gives them the luxury to let ace Josh Beckett's "avulsion" heal, this time around there is no shortage of depth in the organization. Kason Gabbard (a Francona favorite) and TATB binky Devern Hansack should at least be replacement level fill-ins, and they might prove better than that. There will be no gruesome Kevin Jarvis cameos this year.
If you have any complaints about this team, then I guess Rick Pitino was right - we really are the fellowship of the miserable. While it might be tough to shake the old habit of grumbling about Wily Mo Pena's whiffs or Coco Crisp's ongoing struggles or whatever it is you rail against, we need only to cast an eye to toward the Bronx to see what legitimate woes look like. And you know what? While it's against my upbringing in the Nation to write off a franchise with the resources of the Yankees - you know they'll pick up another Bobby Abreu, someone else's salary dump, at the deadline if they are anywhere near the playoff hunt - they look like a dead team walking to me, and I don't think they have the necessary resolve, camaraderie, and pitching depth to pull themselves out of this hole. If they lose two of three to the Mets this weekend and two of three to the Sox in the next series - and please, baseball gods, let this happen; let the Sox leave cleat marks on their throats - someone will jostle Georgie Porgie awake long enough for him to finally fire Joe Torre. And while Yankees fans are desperately clinging to the irrelevant past, citing 1978 as an example of Yankee ingenuity, deep down they must know that Bob Lemon isn't walking through that door (and if he did, he'd be old, grey, and, um, dead.)
It's not like Don Zimmer is conveniently clutching his throat in the opposing dugout, either, which brings us to another crucial element of the Sox team: it's outstanding manager. Terry Francona long ago established himself as the finest Sox manager of my lifetime - outwitting Mike Scioscia, Torre, and tony La Russa consecutively in the postseason, as he did to a surprisingly little amount fanfare in '04, tends to go a long way toward enhancing a manager's reputation. But this season, everything he has touched as turned to gold, from his deft handling of the Dustin Pedroia/Alex Cora situation at second base to his willingness to give Hideki Okajima a prominent role when most of us assumed he was just here to caddy for Dice-K, to dealing with all the ancillary stuff that comes with managing in Boston. One of these days, Tito will get his due as one of the best in the game.
From the manager, to the lineup, to the pitching staff, it's all good, and provided the disabled list doesn't beckon too often, I just don't see anything but sunny days ahead. What is it that the Pink Hats - oh, and all right, a few of us secret sentimentalists, too - like to sing in the seventh inning? Good times never seemed so good. Yeah, that sounds about right. Mr. Diamond's sequined sentiments couldn't be more appropriate - and here's guessing they'll last all summer long. Who knows, maybe even right up until the joyous moment you realize the couch you're planted on to watch the Sox win the World Series just became a freebie.
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All right, now for the important stuff: Thursday's season finale of "The Office." Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but I probably anticipated this week's episode with more eagerness than I will any Sox game this season before October. And I have to say, it was at least as satisfying as, oh, an early-season sweep of the Yankees - you know, back when they were good.
Now, if you're among the clueless masses who prefer mind-numbing dreck like "Grey's Anatomy,"" well, just surf on over to Cats That Look Like Hitler or wherever you usually roll after stopping in here, because today we simply must discuss this heartwarming, ribald, subtle, downright hilarious television masterpiece. I don't care if you don't care, because I do, and you should.
So many snippets from last night's show are replaying on the DVR in my mind: Jan's upgraded "chariots" . . . Michael selling his condo on eBay . . . Creed's blog . . . Schrutebucks and Stanley Nickles . . . "I'm not gay" . . . that slippery weasel Ryan's classic kicker ("You and I are done") which was foreshadowed by his refusal to get Michael coffee ("I don't do that anymore") . . . and of course, Jim's interview, when he discovers Pam's sweet callback to the Office Olympics episode and has his moment of clarity about following his heart back to Scranton.
It seems ridiculous now, given the ultimately well-executed story arcs that began back long before we'd ever become familiar with the pig-latin version of Rainbow Connection, Scrantonicity, or Prison Mike, but there was much talk early in this season that it wasn't living up to the standard set by Season 2. But in the end - make that at the end - it might have surpassed it. Casino Night, last season's flawless Steve Carell-penned finale, remains the most perfect single episode of any television show I have ever seen. Yet the last two installments this season were nearly its equal, meshing writing that makes a hack like me wonder why I ever bothered learning how to type with the perfectly cast actors (right down to the most minor supporting player) who give life to their words.
Which brings us to Ms. Fancy-New-You-Know-Who. You dopes give me a hard time (that's what she . . . ) about my fanboy odes to Jenna Fischer, and when I say cheeseball things like she's the most appealing woman I've ever seen among all the ones I'm not married to, well, I probably deserve it. But I challenge you to watch as her face transforms from shock to radiant, affirming joy in that wonderful closing scene above without crushing on both the character and the actress. That culminating moment alone should earn her an Emmy nomination. (And of course, as several emails noted - some laced with more snark than others - it's our duty to wish the Official Muse of TATB, Non-Wife Division a speedy recovery after she broke her back in four places after falling down a marble staircase in New York earlier this week. She's fortunate she wasn't hurt worse, and it sounds like she should be okay by the time the show begins filming again. Just a guess, but the sight of Jim pushing her around in a wheelchair in next season's premiere would have been a twist even the Office's ace staff of writers would have trouble working into the script.)
Anyway, at the typically pitch-perfect understated end, it all came full-circle, didn't it? Last year, Pam gave Jim a reason to leave Scranton. This year, she gave him a reason to come back. And so we come to a necessary question now that "it's a date" and they are apparently together at last. Where do they go from here? Requieted love has sent more popular shows into a death spiral (David and Maddy, anyone?), but I have complete faith that that will not happen here. The writers are too adept to fall into the Rachel/Ross melodrama, and besides, there is as much potential with Pam and Jim together as there is with them apart. And it's not like there aren't other open-ended plot points worth looking forward to - or did you forget that Ryan is now poor, shellshocked Michael's boss and whacked-out Jan is his roommate? To pilfer a line from a previous Thursday night NBC show of note: It's gold, Jerry. Gold. Season 4 can't arrive soon enough.
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Couple of quick links in case you've wondering where a wise all week. Here's the weekly FOX column, beginning with an ode to Rockies slugger Matt Holliday, and here's a short piece we wrote for Red Sox GameDay about the Sox's worst position-by-position defensive players of all-time. As always, thanks for reading, and I really should be around here more often now that the relationship with Boston.com is official. Honest.
Catching up on some things while waiting for the impending monsoon/blizzard/hurricane/locusts/etc. . . .
A half-dozen years ago, before Mo Lewis's helmet was violently introduced to his rib cage and New England Patriots' destiny was forever altered, would you have ever thought that Drew Bledsoe's retirement would barely register a blip on the Boston sports radar screen? I suppose a certain fade to irrelevance is natural when your successor achieves all the things that you were supposed to somehow couldn't. Still, it left us a bit disappointed that Bledsoe's departure from the NFL after 14 seasons wasn't more of a story around here.
I mean, sure, we all know about Bledsoe's flaws - he had the mobility of the Route 1 dinosaur, he was reluctant to alter his let-it-fly game to fit the Belichick/Weis offense, he was a rocket-armed prodigy (he started as true freshman at Washington State) who didn't always seem to care that much about enhancing his secondary quarterbacking skills, and it was largely his own fault that he never quite became what his talent (and that legendary Minnesota game) suggested he could be. The truth is, once Tom Brady took a few games' worth of snaps, it was apparent to everyone but Bledsoe's blind loyalists that the new guy was just the jolt of energy the franchise needed.
But without No. 11, we probably never get introduced to No. 12, for had Bledsoe not arrived in New England in 1993, along with a certain gruff coach with a fondness for doing his own grocery shopping, who knows what might have become of this franchise. Maybe it would have ended up in St. Louis (though if I recall correctly, Bob Kraft was already close to purchasing the team when Parcells was hired). More likely, the Patriots would have continued to be the sport's preeminent laughingstock under the "leadership" of Rick Mirer.
In his early years, Bledsoe gave the Patriots immediate on-field credibility, a signature player who, when he was on, was the most breathtaking pure passer east of Green Bay. Through the seasons, we came to appreciate other attributes: he was as tough as old shoe leather, he played hurt (quick, name another quarterback who won a game in the last seconds with a pin sticking out of his finger), and that in the face of personal disappointment, he still remained a good teammate. If you weren't happy for him after the 2001 AFC Championship game, then you weren't a Patriots fan.
Did we wish, especially during those maddening Pete Carroll years, that he'd have dedicated himself more to improving rather than retreating to his Montana getaway mere moments after the season's final buzzer? Well, sure, and had he done so, maybe he'd be a Hall of Famer rather than a pretty good quarterback with gaudy stats who somehow lost three different starting jobs in the final six seasons of his career. But we've got a feeling that Bledsoe is okay with his football legacy, just as long as he has his family, his health, and his place in mountains. He walks away from the game knowing what we all should remember: there's no shame in being the second-best quarterback in Patriots history.
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I think we've found the early frontrunner for Red Sox quote of the year, plucked straight from Mnookin's blog.
“I’d never do anything like that. There are f----ing kids in the stands."
– Brendan Donnelly, when asked if he’d made an obscene gesture at Seattle's Jose Guillen.
Mark these words: If this guy can still get it done, he's going to be huge here. Donnelly takes *%&# from no one, yet by most accounts he's as down to earth as they come. Sounds like a New England kind of guy to me.
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Other Red Sox remnants: I don't care what Buster Olney says, Dice-K reminds me of a young Mike Mussina more than any other contemporary pitcher. After two starts, I'm putting him down for 17 wins and a 3.20 ERA, and yes, I'm deliberately being conservative . . . Seriously, how sick was Felix Hernandez the other night? That might have been the most dominating pitching performance I've seen since Pedro's heyday. The Sox hitters had no chance. It'll be fascinating to see what he can accomplish if he stays healthy and away from the Cool Ranch Doritos . . . I realize Josh Beckett started out pretty well last season, winning his first four starts if I recall correctly, but right now he looks vastly superior to anything we saw from him a year ago. The true test will come when he has to use his curve and changeup to get outs in a crucial situation, but it sure looks like he's evolving into a pitcher from the mule-stubborn thrower he was a season ago . . . Tito Francona needs to make a point to work Eric Hinske and Wily Mo Pena into the lineup more often, not only to keep the two former regulars from rusting on the bench, but to keep the likes of Mike Lowell, J.D. Drew, Coco Crisp, and even Manny from wearing down over the long haul. I actually wouldn't mind seeing Hinske take more than a few of Lowell's starts at third . . . There's a fun thread going over at Sons of Sam Horn, with posters recalling the most electric they ever saw Fenway. Mine would be Game 3 of the 2003 ALCS, when ol' Trot Dirty Hat hit the walkoff homer off Rich Harden. I was working, and Fenway was shaking so much as he circled the bases that it was hard to line up the keys on the laptop . . . Shhh, don't tell the 'EEI imbeciles, but Francona's shrewd eighth-inning use of Jonathan Papelbon Friday night was straight out of the Bill James/Closer By Committee playbook. You use your best reliever to get crucial outs, whether that's in the ninth inning, the eighth, or the sixth. For at least one night, it worked to perfection.
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The heat seems to be increasing on Danny Ainge these days, and if he gives M.L. Rivers a contract extension without an out clause, I'll agree that he deserves to be scalded. But I've said it before, and I'll say it right up until we know the results of the draft lottery: Ainge deserves credit for taking a dull but decent team that had two quality players and absolutely no young talent or chance of winning anything substantial, and having the Spauldings to blow it up and start over. Three years later, he has an atrocious team with at least a half-dozen talented kids . . . and a potential winning lottery ticket. Given that the goal should be to get that 17th banner my any means necessary, I have no problem with that strategy, even with the inherent risk that they could end up with the likes of Joakim Noah once the ping-pong balls have settled. Hey, if he enters 2007-08 with a starting five of Oden, Jefferson, Szczerbiak, Pierce, and Rondo, with, depending on potential trades, Perkins, West, Gomes, Allen, and Green on the bench, how can you not feel pretty good about about the rebuilding job Ainge has done?
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Damn, there sure are some fringe benefits to being an actor, huh? If I were Will Ferrell, I might never wash my hands again. And as if we needed yet another reason why Jenna Fischer is the Official Muse of TATB (Non-Wife Division), there's her take on filming what we now consider the greatest scene in the history of celluloid:
“The first take is like [Will] said, ‘Okay Jenna, you're married and I'm married and no funny business. Anything that makes you uncomfortable I want you to tell me. I just want you to feel comfortable.’ I said, ‘Okay, let’s just go for it and make it funny.’ He's like, ‘Yeah.’ So we just went for it and as soon as they yelled cut, his hands came off like he was touching a hot iron. He was so respectful. But then around hour 8 [of filming] it's so normal that they yelled cut and we are discussing the scene with the director and I said, ‘Yeah, dude, your hands are still on my boobs.’ And that was cool, but when we went to lunch and he was still squeezing my boobs and then that night at my car... I haven't been in a lot of films, but he said that was normal - but I'm still not sure. I'm not positive that that was right. He said that was okay and he suggested to promote the film he should play with my boobs. I think that's cool, right? That's how it's done. That's what he said. Yeah.”
Cute, funny, and down with some good old-fashioned boob humor? I don't care what you haters say - she is perfect.
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I've received 20 or so emails asking me if there's any truth to the little nugget buried here - not to mention a puzzled query from one of my bosses. While it's always flattering when someone says nice things about your work, there's a part of me that's annoyed by the conjecture, and I suppose I should address it. So let me break down my professional status this way (I'll try not to sound like a Simmonsish egomaniacal dinkus here):
Lets's see . . . I just hooked up an affiliation with FoxSports and, soon, Boston.com . . . I get to blog here about the Sox and anything else I'm obsessed with (you did read the above item, right?) without having to deal with idiot pro athletes and impossible deadlines that would surely jade the perspective I've managed to maintain as a fan . . . I live in lovely coastal Maine and don't really feel like commuting to freakin' Lawrence . . . I've dreamed of working at the Globe since I was a kid and have so much fun with and respect for the people I work with that sometimes I can't believe I'm so fortunate . . . I work four nights a week now for what I'd guess is more compensation than I'd make there in seven days . . . And because of the short week, I get to spend more time with my wife and two young kids.
But other than that, yup, I'd consider it.
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As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:
As far as we're concerned, there can never be enough homage paid to the most courageous man in baseball history.
Since we got an email box full of feedback regarding our recent look at the Bill James Handbook's projections for the 2007 Red Sox, I figured we should revisit the the numbers James and the Baseball Info Solutions wizards projected for last year's Sox, and find out just how accurate they ultimately were.
HITTERS Jason Varitek Projected: .266 average, 20 homers, 75 RBIs in 492 at-bats. Actual: .238-12-55 in 355 at-bats. Comment: Injuries played a part, but they always do in the inevitable and rapid decline of a 30-something catcher.
Kevin Youkilis Projected: .278-14-68 in 500 at-bats. Actual: .279-13-72 in 569 at-bats. Comment: Bingo.
Julio Lugo Projected: .286-9-61, 28 steals in 597 at-bats. Actual: .278-12-37 in 435 at-bats. Comment: How did he drive in just 37 runs? That's an Enzo Hernandez-like ratio.
Mike Lowell Projected: .269-16-72 in 465 at-bats. Actual: .284-20-80 in 573 at-bats. Comment: And I think we'd all be thrilled - and maybe a little surprised - if Lowell matches his '06 comeback numbers.
Manny Ramirez Projected: .305-45-141 in 587 at-bats. Actual: .321-35-102 in 449 at-bats. Comment: It appears the sabermetric dudes are yet to come up with a variable that accounts for a hitter's unexpected late-summer vacation.
Coco Crisp Projected: .296-13-64 in 557 at-bats. Actual: .264-8-36 in 413 at-bats. Comment: His inaugural Boston season was sidetracked by a broken finger, and we're still yet to see the player who was so dynamic in '04-'05 for Cleveland.
J.D. Drew Projected: .295-25-70 in 444 at-bats. Actual: .283-20-100 in 494 at-bats. Comment: I'm curious why James projected 25 homers but just 70 RBIs.
David Ortiz Projected: .289-40-132 in 589 at-bats. Actual: .287-54-139 in 558 at-bats. Comment: The lesson, as always: Underestimate Big Papi's power at your own risk.
Wily Mo Pena Projected: .259-21-57 in 340 at-bats. Actual: .301-11-42 in 276 at-bats. Comment: The ultimate baseball tease: If he can hit .301 while whiffing in one-third of his at-bats, what might he do if he ever learns to make consistent contact?
Doug Mirabelli Projected: .244-6-20 in 135 at-bats. Actual: .193-6-25 in 161 at-bats. Comment: Projections were based on him playing for the Padres. How I wish they still were.
PITCHERS Curt Schilling Projected: 14 wins, 7 losses, 3.31 ERA, 193 strikeouts in 190 innings. Actual: 15-7, 3.97, 183 Ks in 204 innings. Comment: All in all, a fairly accurate prediction of his comeback season.
Josh Beckett Projected: 14-8, 3.42, 192 Ks in 194 innings, 17 homers allowed. Actual: 16-11, 5.01, 158 Ks in 204 innings, 36 homers allowed. Comment: Who would have predicted he'd allow more home runs than Manny would hit?
Julian Tavarez Projected: 4.18 ERA in 61 innings. Actual: 4.47 ERA in 98.6 innings. Comment: His stats would have been worse, but he pitched well in September garbage time.
Tim Wakefield Projected: 14-13, 4.11, 241 innings, 173 Ks. Actual: 7-11, 4.63, 140 innings, 90 Ks. Comment: Oddly, the projections anticipated career highs in innings pitched and strikeouts for the then-39 year old.
Jonathan Papelbon No projection, because, dude, you just can't foresee sheer awesomeness!
Brendan Donnelly Projected: 3.14 ERA in 62 innings. Actual: 3.94 ERA in 64 innings. Comment: And he'd have met his projections, darn it, had those meddling kids not caught him scuffing the ball the year before.
Mike Timlin Projected: 3.63 ERA in 74 innings. Actual: 4.36 ERA in 64 innings. Comment: The former Mr. Reliable was never right in season's second half.
J.C. Romero Projected: 4.25 ERA in 54 innings. Actual: 6.70 ERA in 48.3 innings. Comment: The 28/31 BB/K ratio was nearly as ghastly as the ERA.
Kyle Snyder Projected: 4.87 ERA in 39 innings. Actual: 6.02 ERA in 58.3 innings. Comment: Am I wrong to think he wasn't nearly as ineffective as the numbers suggest?
Foul tips and other observations: Sure, there are questions that only the long summer and the grind of the schedule can answer, but on this, the most optimistic day of the sports year, we'll gladly say it with unbridled confidence: We like this team. A lot . . . The plusses? Start with the starters. Curt Schilling might look like he spent the offseason hanging out at White Castle with David Wells, but he spent the spring pumping fastballs on the black with impeccable command, and he's added a changeup that at the least will be useful. Right now, it seems the only thing that can stop him from winning 15 is carpal tunnel . . . Josh Beckett has as much raw ability as any pitcher in the AL who doesn't answer to "Yo, Johan," he's admittedly more focused and comfortable heading into year two of the Red Sox Experience, and if that filthy 83 mph changeup he's been showcasing this spring is any indication, he's finally got it through his skull that you can't survive in the AL East on fastballs alone. He's going to make John Farrell look very good . . . As for the Dice-K phenomenon, well, hell, what hasn't already been said, written and debated in the last six weeks? This is going to be a blast. The suggestion that he's Mike Mussina with a better fastball seems a reasonable one, though that tailing, screwball-like changeup is uniquely his own. I imagine he'll take his lumps now and then, particularly if he stays in the habit of leaving the ball up too often, but it's apparent that he has the stuff on the mound and off (his sunny personality has been a revelation) to live up to every last word of hype . . . While starting pitching should be the Sox's main advantage over the Yankees, it is far from their only strength . . . Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz remain the most dangerous 1-2 power punch of their generation, provided Manny doesn't suddenly quit midsummer to become a Canadian Mountie or follow some other such whim . . . Papi will try to increase his home run output for the seventh straight season (he'll do it), while Manny is just 30 homers shy of 500 (he'll get 'em) . . . Perhaps Papi will even wallops his way to the MVP award he's long deserved . . . Now that I'm past the sticker shock, I can admit I'm glad that J.D. Drew is a Red Sox. He might be the most complete player on the roster, and (crossing fingers) if he can stay healthy, he'll be the No. 5 hitter they were so desperate for a season ago . . . The bullpen should fall into place now that Jonathan Papelbon earned the season's first big save by returning to the closer role. I was intrigued by the idea as Papelbon as a starter, if only because I'd rather get 180 innings from my best pitcher instead of 80, but most other teams would sacrifice their mascot to have such a dilemma . . . The best guess here is that Brendan Donnelly will emerge as the most reliable setup guy. He certainly has the proper temperament for a late-inning, high-pressure role. The dude is intense . . . I'm not writing off Mike Timlin, either, in part because I'm pretty sure he could kill me and gut me with his bare hands. The fact that the Sox showed absolutely no hesitation in re-signing him after his September meltdown tells you they believe whatever went wrong was correctable . . . J.C Romero looked rejuventated this spring, though the fact that the Sox are carrying three lefties tells you they're not sure they have one they can trust . . . Which brings us to our concerns . . . No. 1 on our list is No. 33 in your program . . . At age 35, can Jason Varitek bounce back from an injury-plagued and ineffective (.238) season? History says no, with little room for argument . . . Even if he struggles at the plate - and his bat looked slug-slow this spring - he's something of an asset because of his defense, knowledge of the pitchers, and the fact that the decomposing Doug Mirabelli is the alternative . . . We also must wonder if Mike Lowell's feeble second half is a sign of an offensive decline . . . If Dustin Pedroia can prove the doubters wrong at one more level . . . If Julio Lugo will show us why the Sox front office long coveted a player whose production doesn't really justify the admiration . . . If Coco Crisp, hitting his prime at 27, will be the dynamic player he was in his final two years in Cleveland, and not the erratic, easy out he too often was in his disappointing Boston debut . . . But hey, every team in baseball has questions (see: Carl Pavano, Opening Day starter), and the Red Sox have fewer than most. Besides, it's bad form to fret and complain today. Winter is gone, the Red Sox are back, and anything seems possible.
Breakthrough player: Beckett. The trade will look a lot better after this season than it did after the last one.
Honorable mention: Dice-K. Is it really a breakthrough if we expect it? . . . Devern Hansack: Strike-throwing machine will be a factor in the bullpen before season is through . . . Pedroia: Loretta was the media's buddy, but let's admit it: he was a singles hitter with no range. The bar isn't set that high . . . Kason Gabbard: If Jon Lester doesn't eventually seize Julian Tavarez's spot in the rotation, this Francona favorite just might.
Breakdown player: Varitek. I do hope I'm wrong about this . . . but I don't think I am.
Dishonorable mention: Lowell: There's a reason the Sox shopped him around in the offseason. It's called selling high . . . Drew: His history suggests we must be concerned, but hopefully, he'll pull a Molitor and be healthier in his 30s than he was in his 20s.
Completely random Bill James stat: Wily Mo Pena had the longest average home run in the American League last season at 411 feet.
Bonus stat: Schilling tied Chicago's Jon Garland for the league lead in doubles allowed (51).
Bonus bonus stat: Kevin Youkilis led the league in pitches per plate appearance (4.43) and was second in pitches seen at 3,009. Cleveland's Grady Sizemore saw 3,019.
And what the hell, one more: Beckett led the league in pitches at 95 MPH or faster (1.072), which tells you all you need to know.
. . . and finally, a prediction: 95 wins, 67 losses, 2d in AL East, AL wild card winner, and several nights of October intrigue.
Ten free minutes for me, 10 free dispatches from mom's basement for you . . .
1. In his latest mock draft, Mel Kiper Jr. has the Patriots selecting Ole Miss linebacker Patrick Willis at 24, then landing Florida safety Reggie Nelson at 28. While I'm slightly wary of Gator safeties - Are you out there? Tony George? Is that you, Guss Scott? - Nelson sounds like the real deal, and I think I've made it pretty clear here that Willis is TATB's annual draft binky. Unfortunately, pretty much every other mock draft has workout warrior Willis long gone before the Patriots pick, and the last time Kiper was right about the Pats on draft day, I think they selected Reggie Dupard. Hell, Kiper's still scratching his man-bouffant over the Logan Mankins pick.
2. Given that I can look out the window and still see a home run Vernon Wells hit off him in August accelerating toward the moon, I'm not quite ready to trust Josh Beckett just yet. But damn, when he's throwing three nasty pitches for strikes, as he's done all spring, I can't help but wonder if he'll emerge as a force in his second year in Boston.
3. I'm not going to pretend I'm an accomplished NBA scout like, say, Marty Blake or Bill Simmons, but for this slightly-more-than-casual hoops fan, there sure have been some fun revelations in the tournament this year. Georgetown's Jeff Green isn't the quickest player on the court, but the ball always seems to find him in the big moments, and I love his slashing game. And while his behemoth teammate, Roy Hibbert, probably won't amount to much more than space-filler in the NBA because of his plodding ways, he's smart and a deft passer who deserves praise for making himself into a legitimate player. There are NBA teams who would be glad to have Ohio State freshman Mike Conley Jr. running their offense right now, and I'm even coming around on Florida's Joakim Noah, whose relentless hustle and shrewd court sense might help him become something more than the NBA role player I thought he'd be. The Final Four should be a blast.
4. As for Durant or Oden? Give me Oden, and without a moment's hesitation. Oh, I do love Durant, and believe he'll be an amalgam of Kevin Garnett and Carmelo Anthony in the NBA, a perennial All-Star, a potential scoring champ. But I think NBA history makes it apparent that a franchise big guy is a far more valuable commodity that a franchise wing player. Oden's performance in the tournament, epitomized by his game-saving volleyball spike of a block at the end of the Tennessee game, has left me with no doubt that he will eventually be a franchise player in the NBA, and a dominating defender from Day 1.
5. As fun as it's been to watch Durant and Oden find superstardom, my two all-time favorite freshmen remain Chris Jackson (LSU, '89) and Kenny Anderson (Georgia Tech, '90). Forget about the slugs they became in the NBA. If you saw them in college, you understand.
6. Anyone who's wondering why ESPN would dump Joe Theismann and replace him with Ron Jaworski on "Monday Night Football" is forgetting three important facts. 1) Jaws was nothing short of terrific in Week 1 last season when he and Dick Vermeil were the analysts for the second MNF game of the season-opening doubleheader. 2) He has terrific chemistry with Tony Kornheiser during his guest spots on "PTI," and it's a reasonable gamble to assume that will transfer to the broadcast booth. 3) Theismann was humorless, never shut the **** up, rarely made an insightful point, and contradicted himself constantly. But other than that, he was great.
7. If there's anything we've learned about Rick Pitino, it's that when he says he's not interested in the Kentucky job, there's a pretty good chance he's interested in the Kentucky job. I do think his slippery protege, Billy Donovan, gets first dibs, though.
8. His Idiot's Guide To Plagiarism was one thing, but yesterday's suggestion that the Celtics might want to consider trading for pretty-close-to-untouchable Jazz star Carlos Boozer made it official: Butch Stearns has officially passed Steve Burton as the frontrunner for our annual TV Sports Dude Who Was Most Likely Dropped On His Head As An Infant award. Stay tuned.
9. Quick programming note: Starting next week, TATB will be writing a weekly column for FoxSports.com in the Nine Innings format. (The kicker: It's not Red Sox-related. You mean there are other teams?) Also, it looks like we'll have some sort of affiliation with Boston.com soon, and we've got a few other cool freelance things going on as well that we'll let you in on once they become semi-official. My point: Please check the other stuff out, and thanks for making it all possible.
10. As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:
So I fire off a Google search for "baseball card," and ol' Wilbur here is the first thing to come up. Yep, that's what I call random.
Analyzing Bill James's Red Sox projections, Part 2
Because Dale and Holley are no doubt desperate for a topic to crib for today's show, we're back with some Sox projections from the Bill James Handbook. Today, the pitchers . . .
STARTING ROTATION Curt Schilling 12-8 3.50 ERA, 177 Ks in 180 innings Looks like James expects Schilling's age (and girth) to cause him to visit the disabled list once or twice. Given that Schilling has failed to pitch 180 innings only twice since 1996 - in 2003 (broken hand) and 2005 (bloody sock aftermath), I like the odds that he'll throw 200-plus innings and surpass these numbers.
Daisuke Matsuzaka 27-2, 1.33 ERA, 305 Ks in 256 innings, two no-hitters, Cy Young, MVP, World Series MVP, Academy Award winner Damn, looks like James believes the hype and then some. I guess Dice-K really is going to make us forget all about Pedr . . . oh, all right, I admit it: I made those numbers up. There's no projection for Dice-K, for obvious reasons, though I do think it's worth noting that in his first season stateside, at age 26, Hideo Nomo went 13-6 with 2.54 ERA, whiffing 236 in 191.3 innings while allowing just 124 hits. If Matsuzaka could pitch as well for the Sox as his countryman did for the Dodgers a dozen years ago, I think we'd all be satisfied.
Josh Beckett 13-10, 3.68, 191 Ks in 208 innings Let's put it this way: If Beckett pitches 208 innings with a 3.68 ERA, he's winning a hell of a lot more than 13 games.
Jonathan Papelbon 14-6, 2.98 ERA, 181 Ks in 184 innings It's tough to project stats for a closer who's becoming a starter, mostly because the move is so unusual. (John Smoltz is the only recent example who comes immediately to mind.) Still, the numbers seems to favor Papelbon making the transition successfully, and the 14 wins is a comparitively high projection given that James's scale appears conservative; he has no one in either league winning 20 games. For what it's worth, I would not be shocked if Papelbon ended up being the ace of this staff. Does anyone doubt his stuff or his makeup?
Tim Wakefield 8-8 4.14 ERA, 108 Ks in 152 innings. Wakefield, who turns 41 on August 2, is regarded as a "high injury risk," thus the 152-inning projection. But I have to wonder if that takes into account that he's a knuckleballer, an often ageless specie. Consider: at 40, Phil Niekro threw 342 innings (and went 21-20); Charlie Hough pitched 252 innings; and Tom Candiotti threw 201 innings. If he can avoid another fluke rib injury, I have doubt that Wakefield will devour 200 innings again.
BULLPEN Joel Pineiro 7-9, 4.50 ERA in 92 Ks in 144 innings. This one should be disregarded - the numbers are based on Pineiro starting for Seattle, not relieving for Boston. He has looked like he's throwing the ball with some bite lately, so maybe this low-risk move will have some reward, if not necessarily a high one.
Brendan Donnelly 3.41 ERA, 64 Ks in 66 innings Mark it down: The cantankerous ex-Angel is your opening day closer . . . though you, me, and Tito are hoping the Sox won't need one at all in Kansas City.
Mike Timlin 3.86 ERA, 46 Ks in 70 innings The nagging strained oblique muscle isn't exactly an encouraging sign that last year's woes are behind him.
Julian Tavarez 4.56 ERA, 43 Ks in 75 innings I actually get a kick out of Manny's completely insane personal spokesman, though I'd like him more if he didn't accumulate most of his highlights during garbage time.
J.C. Romero 4.40 ERA, 36 Ks, 24 BBs in 44 innings Twenty-four walks in 44 innings? Yep, this talented hothead is the leader in the clubhouse for the title of Reliever Who Is Going to Have Me Cursing At The TV While Simultaneously Sucker-Punching The Cat. Should be a good time.
Manny Delcarmen 3.88 ERA, 77 Ks in 78 innings The K-rate is certainly encouraging, and if the pride of Hyde Park can just harness his high-grade stuff a little more often, he could really become an integral part of the bullpen in the late innings. Yes, I'm glad he (and Craig Hansen) were dealbreakers in the rumored Todd Helton swap. (FYI: There is no projection for Hansen.)
Kyle Snyder 4.84 ERA, 51 Ks in 80 innings, 97 hits allowed The Sox could do worse for a spot starter/mopup man, though I really don't want to see Bronson Arroyo With A Pituitary Problem pitch 80 innings unless half of them are at Pawtucket.
For no other reason than because we're seriously jonesing for some baseball right about now, we offer you this: a vaguely defined, completely subjective, semi-Rotisserie-oriented list of . . .
TEN PLAYERS WE LIKE IN '07
Coco Crisp, OF, Red Sox: Coming off excellent back-to-back seasons in Cleveland, he got off to a fast start in his first season with the Sox . . . then busted his finger, came back too soon, tried to do too much, struggled mightily, then busted the danged digit again. He's entering his prime at age 27, and with less pressure (Johnny who?) and less responsibility (he'll likely bat 7th or 8th), we're expecting Year 2 to be his Boston breakthrough.
Gary Sheffield, OF, Tigers: He's playing for a manager he respects, he's got a fat new contract, and he's motivated to stick it to a former employer, in this case Joe Torre and the Yankees. Ask me, that's long been the recipe for a monster season from Chris House's sparring partner.
Ryan Shealy, 1B-DH, Royals: There's a reason the Red Sox have always coveted him - he can rake. He'll club 30 homers if the Royals give him 500 at-bats.
Felix Hernandez, SP, Mariners: The phenom known as King Felix seemed weighed down with all the Doc Gooden-in-'84 comparisons entering last season . . . and he was weighed down further, so to speak, by a conditioning regimen that consisted of sleeping, engulfing Doritos, and watching TV. But he reportedly will report to spring training in fantastic shape, and if you've seen him pitch, you know he has the best stuff of any big-league pitcher not currently employed by the Minnesota Twins. And he's only 20. The sky remains the limit.
Jhonny Peralta, SS, Indians: He's 24 and stacked up .292-24-78 numbers in '05. So Omar Vizquel's successor can't possibly be as bad as he looked at the plate (.257-13-68) and the field (16 errors, Merloni-like range) last season . . . can he?
Ian Kinsler, 2B, Rangers: While your fantasy league homies slobber (justifiably) over future batting champion Howie Kendrick, it's this young, offensively gifted AL second baseman who might wind up being the draft-day bargain at second base.
Robinson Cano, 2B, Yankees: Call it hyperbole, but after watching him hit .342 with 15 homers at age 23 - and scaring the hell out of me every time he came up in a key situation against the Sox - I'm convinced he's going to be a lefthanded-hitting Paul Molitor. He may want to reconsider his wardrobe choices, however. Jeter sure does make his double-play partners wear some curious outfits.
Brad Hawpe, OF, Rockies: Given the unlikely ascension to fantasy superstardom of Matt Holliday and Garrett Atkins the past two seasons, we feel obligated to have at least one Coors Field hitter on this list, and the 26-year-old quietly put up .293-22-84 numbers last season.
Josh Beckett, SP, Red Sox: Provided new pitching coach John Farrell can drill through the sediment around his thick skull.
Aaron Harang, SP, Reds: Okay, so he was really a sleeper last year . . . but man, did anyone realize that the 28-year-old Oakland discard led the National League in strikeouts, and tied Derek Lowe among others for the league lead in wins? Talk about a quietly brilliant season.
. . . AND ONE WE DON'T
Trot Nixon, OF/Gimp, Cleveland: Nick Cafardo tells us Captain Dirty Cap "worked out harder this offseason that he has in many years." Well then, I'm convinced. Ol' No. 7 is absolutely poised for a monster comeba . . . whoa, wait a minute. Pardon my naivete, but I was under the impression real Dirt Dogs always kept in shape. You mean the back injury he got while driving was the result of him having a midsection that looked more like a keg than a six-pack? On second thought, good riddance, slug.
It's 10:21 p.m. on the eve of December, and at this precise moment the thermometer tells me it's sixty-three bleepin' degrees outside. Did I mention I live in Wells, Maine, where there are usually penguins waddling around in my driveway this time of year? Or that I just came inside from shooting hoops in my driveway in a t-shirt and shorts? At 10 p.m. in freakin' November? Dude, I love global warming!
Anyway, this ridiculously unseasonable weather has me thinking about when all the nights are warm (okay, most of them) and the baseball is again in the air at Fenway. It feels like there should be a game tonight . . . yet once glance at the roster jolts you back to the cold reality of the long days ahead, for the 2007 Red Sox are far from being ready to play ball.
So here's my question to you, homies: When all the transactions have been completed and all of Steve Phillips's scoops have been proven idiotic, what will the Red Sox's opening day roster look like? Here's my best guess, with this disclaimer: Don't hold it against me five months from now. I've got to believe Theo's working on some moves that none of us have considered yet. Actually, let me rephrase that: I hope he's working on some moves that none of us have considered . . . because I'm not too thrilled with the ones we know he is considering. Anyway, here's my 25 . . .
THE LINEUP SS Julio Lugo We saw him 19 times a year for, what, five years with the Devil Rays? And never once did I catch myself thinking, "Damn, I'd love to have that Lugo in Boston someday." Are we sure Theo isn't confusing him with Carl Crawford or something?
CF Coco Crisp He gets a mulligan for his Boston debut - he was just never right after busting his finger. He'll be better in the No. 2 slot, and better in his second season.
DH David Ortiz It's an insult to the hitter he's become to suggest he'll suffer without Manny. Papi will be fine - on the field and off.
RF J.D. Drew I'm with Ryan. What's the fascination, Theo? I know the skill-set and the OPS is appealing . . . but damn, it's time to start giving consideration again to a player's mental makeup. I'm tired of watching this supposedly progressive front office throw multimillion contracts to well-known Cowardly Lions who will shrivel under the scrutiny.
LF Wily Mo Pena His numbers were impressive (.301, 11 homers in 276 at-bats). His power is astounding. So why does he seem like such an easy out?
1B Adrian Gonzalez Sox have always coveted the former overall No. 1 pick - they nearly plucked him from Texas two years ago - and he'll arrive in the swap for Manny. Quietly had a heck of a breakout season at age 24, particularly given his home park, and is an excellent first baseman. I like him, despite the price.
3B Mike Lowell I'm skeptical that he'll replicate his bounce-back season at the plate, but the Sox have never had a third baseman with better hands. He'll be an asset again.
C Jason Varitek It'd be nice if they could sign a backup competent enough to reduce the aging captain's workload to 125-130 games. (Gregg Zaun would have been ideal.) That way, his bat might not be dead by August.
2B Dustin Pedroia I'm not seeing what they see. Me, I'm seeing Brent Abernathy.
STARTERS Daisuke Matsuzaka They'll get the deal with devil (Boras) done, though Lucchino wouldn't be my first choice as designated diplomat. And I can't wait to watch him pitch.
Jonathan Papelbon Please let his shoulder be healthy . . . please let his shoulder be healthy . . .
Josh Beckett I trust he's matured after taking so many lumps last season. He'll win 17, minimum, with a sub-4.00 ERA . . . and even on his best days, I'll still catch myself wishing Hanley Ramirez were still one of ours.
Curt Schilling Considering he famously stirred the *&$* and urged Philly fans to boo J.D. Drew years ago, it's pretty damn hypocritical of him to call out Ryan for wondering why the Sox would be interested in the wildly unpopular outfielder. Schilling will always have a place in my heart for 2004, but I think I'd like him even more if he were born mute.
Tim Wakefield Can you believe he's going to be 41 this season? Oh, to have mastery of a knuckleball.
RELIEVERS Scott Linebrink While I really hope my man Edes is onto something with tonight's Jake Peavy-for-Manny rumor, I fret that Linebrink is the pitcher they'll get instead. While his numbers the last three years are excellent, I'm skeptical of any twice-discarded relief pitcher who rejuvenates his career in San Diego.
Mike Timlin Even after his collapse last season - check out that alarmingly miniscule K-rate - he's worth a flyer. Have you looked at the pathetic list of free-agent relievers?
Manny Delcarmen He needs to take the next step, or the pride of Hyde Park may find himself in another organization soon. Here's hoping he gets command of that great stuff and becomes the power arm in the setup role the Sox desperately need.
Hideki Okajima The Japanese Mike Myers? I can live with that.
Julian Tavarez Well, at least he makes it interesting, and he's not a bad option as a swingman. Wonder who he'll sucker punch this year.
The Reliever For Whom Kevin Youkilis Is Traded Just a wild hunch here. Theo has to be up to something off the radar, right? And I think it's possible that Youkilis (whose OPS was .001 lower than some dude named Millar's) will be dealt before he's exposed as Just Another Guy. Think Billy Beane still has his "Moneyball" man-crush? I'd gladly accept Justin Duchscherer in return.
BENCH Alex Cora Not much of a stick, but his versatility and smarts make him the best utility player the Sox have had in my lifetime. (What, you prefer Jack Brohamer?)
Eric Hinske Should be a more than serviceable bat off the bench, though he showed nothing after coming over from Toronto.
David Murphy Fifth outfielder, setting the stage for a 10-year career as the next Ricky Ledee.
Trot Nixon Yeah, like he's not going to accept arbitration. I cannot believe Dirty Helmet is going to be here and Manny is not. Sometimes I hate sports.
Mike Lieberthal Wishful thinking? You try finding a decent backup catcher on this list. Heaven help us, there's a chance Mirabelli might be back, isn't there?
IN THE MIX Bryce Cox, RP I'm convinced he'll contribute before Craig Hansen will - in fact, I think he's going to be a huge factor this year.
Devern Hansack, RP Really knows how to pitch, and has better stuff than a lot of established arms. I'm a believer.
Craig Hansen, RP I think he'll be fine with time . . . but where's that electric slider we heard so much about coming out of St. John's?
* * *
Well, whaddaya say? Agree with all 25? Think I'm getting dumber by the day? Will they sign Eric Gagne? Trade for Andruw Jones? Have at it in the comments, dopes. If you need me, I'll be at the beach.
We've gathered, from our occasional radio gigs and various other cool/frightening correspondence with our readers, that TATB is perceived as primarily a baseball site. Not so. While baseball is our lifelong passion, a bond with our dad, and all those other saccharine-but-truthful sentiments that make the likes of Doris Kearns Goodwin all frisky, the truth is we're pretty freakin' crazy about football, too. As a matter of fact, the first post on this site, back in Nov. '04, was a rant about Drew Bledsoe that was expanded from an email I had sent a buddy, and the Nine Innings baseball column that is sort of the anchor of the site actually derived from our First and 10 Patriots column, which will be making its 2006 debut Tuesday. So like the rest of New England, while we focus on the Sox through the summer, our mind turns to the Patriots with the arrival of fall, particularly if the Sox, you know, suck. With that certainly being the case this September, consider this post the official notice that we are changing seasons. We're ready for some football . . . right after this transitional round of Name Association:
RED SOX Mike Timlin: He was one of my favorite Sox during the best times in '03-'04, seemingly as steady and reliable off the field as he was on it. But I really wish he'd stop claiming he "made a great pitch, good location, they just hit it" blah blah blah during his late-season streak of Slocumbness. I'm not sure if he's in denial or he's making an excuse, but it's relentlessly annoying when someone I thought was accountable refused to acknowledge that he just threw another meatball with the game on the line.
Manny Ramirez: Here's hoping he stays healthy and motivated enough to remain in the lineup these final 20 or so games, because the hunch here is that it will be our last opportunity to see one of the greatest hitters of all time perform in a Red Sox uniform. You, me, and Gammons know the front office has always wanted to unload him. The late-season collapse, the mystery surrounding his injury, and the general manager's desire to rebuild will be their justification for finally doing so. And unless they get equal value - yeah, right - I'm going to be beyond pissed when it happens.
Josh Beckett: Of course I'm going to give this deal time, even as I try to wrap my head around the notion that "prospects" Anibal Sanchez and Hanley Ramirez have a better shot at the postseason than does the alleged contender that traded them. But for those Beckett bashers among you who are trying to figure out just who in the front office signed off on this trade, here's Seth Mnookin's take from his hugely (and deservedly) successful book, "Feeding the Monster":
"The Beckett trade appeared to be a fantastic one - young, proven arms are rare commodities in baseball - and the local media reacted accordingly . . . [But] it didn't take long before details about the trade began to emerge that made it seem less of an obvious steal. An MRI of Beckett's shoulder . . . revealed serious concerns about his rotator cuff. Assistant to the general manager Jed Hoyer, in constant consultation with Epstein, had been wary about making the trade, but Lucchino has been eager to get it done. "It was clear what was going on," said someone with an ownership stake in the team. "You had the people who were looking out for the long-term interests of the club advising to hold off, and the people who wanted to get the focus off the front-office fiasco pushing to make the deal."
Funny, Lucchino didn't seem too eager to take credit for it when Gerry Callahan asked him point-blank recently if this deal was his baby. What did Steinbrenner call him all those years ago? A chameleon? Huh. Interesting.
Kason Gabbard: For someone who was considered little more than minor-league roster filler - he spent two mediocre seasons in Portland and wasn't rated among the top 30 pitchers in the system entering 2006 - he sure did look like he belonged during his masterful seven shutout innings against Chicago. If he pitches well again tonight . . . well, I'll at least admit he's the pitcher Abe Alvarez was supposed to be, and maybe more.
Julian Tavarez: The Sox could do worse for a fifth starter next season. Of course, I sure as hell hope they do better.
Jonathan Papelbon: It's just a tired arm? Honest? (Exhaling). So I'm guessing the Japan trip is out of the question?
Javy Lopez: Well, guess we learned the hard way why Maddux couldn't stand him. Lazy and useless is no way to go through life, son.
PATRIOTS Junior Seau: I've never been much of a Seau fan - he became hugely overrated once his amazing athleticism could no longer make up for his lack of discipline - but I'm glad he's a Patriot. Know why? Because it's been absolutely delightful to listen to the 'EEI hypocrites try and pretend that they haven't mercilessly ripped the guy for years. Who knew men so bloated could backpedal faster than a young Mike Haynes?
Laurence Maroney: Not a bad debut, eh? He's so ridiculously talented - and apparently such a deferential, egoless kid - that the proud Corey Dillon is willing to split the carries and play the role of mentor. A mighty running back tandem! Who da thunk it?
Kevin Faulk: For a player with a habit of fumbling at the most inopportune times, he sure does have great hands. (Dammit, do I ever make sense?)
Deion Branch: The conventional wisdom among Pats fans seemed to be that Branch was getting bad advice, that he's a levelheaded kid who was being manipulated by an agent with an agenda, and he'd come to his senses and accept the Patriots' perfectly fair offer (3 years, $17 million) once he realized the season would go on without him. But now? Now I'm thinking Branch is just one more lunatic diva of a wide receiver, a T.O. wannabe. There's simply no other explanation for the way he's allowed his agent to try and shoot his way out of Foxboro.
Doug Gabriel: Is it wishful thinking to believe that the talented but underutilized ex-Raider will be the right player at the right place at the right time? Yeah, probably. If he doesn't do the job and Branch doesn't come to his senses, the Pats may be starting Donald Hayes and Bert Emanuel by Week 6.
Gil Santos: His booming pipes are still among the most distinctive in the biz. ("Brady back to pass . . . down the middle . . . "CAUGHT! . . . TROY BROWN!") But - how can I say this delicately? - he and Gino could use a little more help from the spotter in identifying players. It's one thing to accidentally confuse Reche Caldwell (the new No. 87) with David Givens (the former No. 87), especially in the season opener. I just worry that one of these days, he's going to have Brady completing a pass to Randy Vataha, and neither he nor Gino will catch the mistake.
ASSORTED OTHER IDOLS AND IDIOTS Hanley Ramirez: He's been predictably inconsistent, but having accumulated 59 extra-base hits, 46 steals, 107 runs, while batting .286, there is no debating that he has exceeded all expectations in his rookie season. He sure looks like a superstar in the making. Anyone else care to argue that Dustin Pedroia is a better prospect? Anyone? Bueller? C'mon, you were out there this spring . . .
Jermaine Dye: Can you believe the Royals once had a Dye-Johnny Damon-Carlos Beltran outfield? Do they have anything to show for trading three of the most valuable players in baseball this season? No, Mark Teahen does not count.
Daunte Culpepper: Trust me when I say I would have written this before his gruesome two-pick fourth quarter Thursday: He is the most overrated quarterback of the past dozen years, a player who put up impressive numbers because he could heave the ball deep to Randy Moss when all else failed. His carelessness is going to drive Nick Saban crazy. Or crazier.
Drew Bledsoe: He's the second-best quarterback in Patriots history, he was crucial in the rejuvenation of the franchise, and it's with admiration that I consider him the most normal star athlete I've ever encountered. But isn't it an indictment of his dedication that he's still making the same stone-skulled mistakes that he made in '93? The ending of last night's Dallas-Jacksonville game couldn't have been more predictable.
Peyton Manning: If he delivered in big games as often as he does in his numerous funny commercials, he might have some accomplishments that actually justify his reputation. (Friend of TATB Tom Curran puts it much better here.)
Terrell Owens: If you think there is any chance of this T.O./Tuna/Bledsoe marriage actually working, let me suggest that you read Tom Friend's stellar piece in the recent ESPN Magazine. T.O. is a petulant, misguided teenager, and shockingly, Parcells is not exactly willing to play the role of guidance counselor. This is going to be as ugly as a Jerry Jones facelift, people.
Adam Vinatieri: The sentimental fan in me already misses him. But I'm not so sure the Patriots will, and anyone who suggests he'll mean two or more victories to the Colts this season is either an imbecile, Peter King, or both.
As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:
In 11 major-league seasons prior to 2006, Kevin Jarvis won 34 games, lost 47, had an ERA of 5.97 . . . and made nearly $10 million. Frankly, I'm not sure if this is an example of why this is a great country, or an example of what is wrong with it.
Hey, the post-Massacre Sox DID come back to tie the AL East in '78 . . .
. . . and five other semi-coherent thoughts that aren't so blindly optimistic . . .
1. Nine walks. Nine. I know the Yankees lineup is patient and disciplined, the scourge of any pitcher with the slightest hint of a command problem. Still, how in the hell does a major league pitcher - an accomplished, talented, 26-year-old major league pitcher at that - walk nine hitters in five-plus innings? How, Josh Beckett? How? How do you walk A-Rod - who's strangling the bat so hard these days the damn thing is turning purple - with the bases loaded in a 5-5 game? It's pathetic, inexplicable, and goddamn aggravating. And let me tell you, I'm getting really tired of Beckett's standup guy routine after his scheduled every-fifth-day shellacking these last few weeks; he's starting to remind me of Drew Bledsoe at his worst, when he always accepted fault and yet never seemed to do a damn thing to make sure it didn't happen again. I miss the glowering jerk who yelled at the mountain known as Ryan Howard in spring training and showed no fear; that pitcher took crap from no one. The Beckett I thought the Sox were getting would have brushed back anyone he felt was too comfortable or taking big hacks against his fastball. Where'd the cockiness go? Where'd everything go? Man, I was so convinced that Beckett-to-Boston was the perfect convergence of player and team; well, he somehow has 13 wins, and I can't remember three of them, they seem so long ago. And now he's out there walking nine guys in a must-win game, pulling a Matt Young, regressing further from start to start and pitch to pitch. I'm not giving up hope here - Beckett has too much going for him for this to be permanent. I'm just pissed, and I want to rant. I wouldn't mind if once in a while, he did too.
2. At 1:01 p.m., we're walloped with the requisite Babe-Bucky-Boone opening montage. At 1:09, the fawning interview with the Mary Kay of shortstops commences. At 1:13, the intrepid Jeanne Zelasko tells us it's "shocking" Jeter (most similar statistical comp: Ray Durham) has never won an MVP award. At 1:14, Kevin Kennedy adds a touch of sanity by saying Big Papi is the real MVP and should win . . . and then I remember Kevin Kennedy is wrong about everything not related to mustache grooming or Jose Canseco. At 1:15 p.m., I head to the refrigerator to concoct my new favorite drink, Gin and Drano. My, I do love me some Fox baseball coverage. And to think, the pregame was the highlight of the day.
3. Happy freakin' trails, Rudy Seanez, and hey, how about bringing your whack-job partner-in-arson Tavarez back to the NL with you? Thanks for nothin', and see you in three years, when the Sox inexplicably forget how useless you are on a decent team and bring back your 58-foot curveball and arrow-straight heater for a third time.
4. So how's it going to go with Schilling today? Well, hopefully he restores a little professional pride for this team and uses Pitch No. 1 to knock Johnny Damon on his ass, thereby setting off a catfight between Mrs. Curt and Mrs. Johnny worthy of a lucrative soft-core pay-per-view rematch. Sadly, though, I have a hunch that Schilling's start, like so many others of his recently, will unfold like this: The Sox will scratch out a run or two early and carry a slim lead into the sixth or seventh. Schilling, after looking toward the bullpen and noticing that Mike Timlin is completely engulfed in flames, will stay in the game even though he is clearly gassed after 120 pitches. And . . . thaaaaaa Yankees will find a way to tie it up. We all know what happens after that. Sorry for the pessimism, but I've seen this movie before.
5. On the bright side, Gammons was at Fenway today, and judging by his pregame chat with Joe and Jerry in which he referred to the Yankees as "some of the best people on the planet" and the Red Sox as "some of the best people in the game," he's well on his way to a full recovery. I just hope watching this hideous affront to Red Sox fans and aficionados of a well-played ballgame didn't cause a setback. In all seriousness, it truly was reassuring to hear him sound so well, and typically, he made a thoughtful point about the Red Sox: Everything that they expected to go right has gone wrong, and there's not a whole lot they can do about it at this point.
That's not "Cops" guest star Maurice Clarett. That's me after tonight's Red Sox debacle. Cripes, talk about feeling bleepin' maced and tasered.
Now, I think most of you TATB regulars would agree that I'm usually pretty clear-headed, even optimistic, about the Sox. But right now . . . well, it's 3:23 a.m., they've lost two walnut-crushers to the Triple-A Royals in a row, my commute home from work took a Big Dig-inspired detour through freakin' New Jersey, and I'm feeling pretty damn irrational at the moment.
No, I definitely am not in the mood to attempt to soberly and coherently answer any questions about this slumping and slumbering team. Instead, I'm going to ask a few of my own for once:
• Why did Joey Gathright, a martial arts black belt and all-around ass-kicker if he so chooses, have to prove a peaceful warrior and not beat the living hell out of Julian Tavarez when the lunatic Sox reliever sucker-punched him in spring training? Can you imagine the pain we as Sox fans would have been spared had Gathright unleashed the pain on Tavarez when he had the chance?
• Why are hitters as pedestrian as Esteban Friggin' German suddenly teeing off on Jonathan Papelbon's fastball? Has he lost velocity? Did he borrow Beckett's? Is he tiring? Or are his recent semi-struggles (the kid's ERA still is under 1.00, after all) merely a hiccup in the long season rather than an alarming trend?
• We all know Joe Castiglione sounds like his family pet died when the Sox lose ("PAHHH-ped him up . . . this'll do it . . . sigh"). So after four agonizing defeats in a row, might he be distraught enough to shove the increasingly insufferable Jerry Trupiano out of the booth? Will Uncle Joe finally snap tonight, when Troop obliviously tries to regale us with his all-royalty team in the ninth inning of a tense one-run game? ("You'd have to have Jeff King, of course . . . heh-heh . . . and Mel Queen would be the pitching coach . . . guffaw . . .")
• Has Javy Lopez ever caught in the major leagues before? Really? More than 1,300 games? Huh. Are you sure it's the same Javy Lopez? For sure? Because this guy looks like he's trying to catch the ball with a boxing glove.
• How come Josh Beckett couldn't go seven? Or even eight? Doesn't Tito know his bullpen is engulfed in flames?
• Could Mike Lowell have picked a worse time to revert to his feeble 2005 Marlins form? And will he come out of it, or was the first-half rejuvenation really a mirage?
• Why would anyone ever give Papi anything to hit in any situation? Just walk him, deal with Manny, breeze through the other seven duds, and there you have a recipe for shutting down the Sox these days, no?
• I know Coco Crisp is the fastest member of Red Sox Nation ("Dad!"), but how come no one told me he'd appear to be the most indifferent too? And why the hell is he playing so shallow in the ninth-inning of a one-run game?
• How the hell are they going to fix this 'pen before the winter? How? And I know relief pitching is a crapshoot, but is Theo ever going to build a deep bullpen?
All right, that's it for now. Feel free to rant in the comments or attempt to talk me off the ledge or whatever. I'm going to bed before I get the urge to kill a drifter or a middle reliever or something . . .
They're a sinking ship! Get it? See the picture? It's a metaphor! The Sox are a sinking ship!!! It's sinking!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!!! (Glug-glug-glug . . .)
Sorry for that outburst there, folks. (Deep breath.) Seems the jackals are already getting to me. I turn on Sports Final tonight, and there's ol' Lobel declaring in all his orange day-glo smugness that tonight's 7-6 loss to the Devil Rays was the most "devastating loss of the season, by far." Naturally, his precious Panic Button, a gimmick about as funny as Lenny Clarke, is visible over his left shoulder. I can't believe he didn't play a clip from the "Titanic" while he was at it. He must be slipping.
It's funny, I used to wonder what certain TV/radio types would do with themselves after the Sox won a World Series and the fanbase achieved a new level of contentment. Well, now I know. They pretend nothing has changed - and if Sox fans aren't miserable, well dammit, they're going to do their best to make us so. Please, remind me to avoid 'EEI today on my commute. I can hear the Big Show bloviating already.
Now, I'm not denying that tonight's loss stinks and sucks, and if not for the foibles of Fausto Carmona and the otherworldly heroics of David Ortiz, we'd likely be sweating out a legitimate slide here. But a quick glance at the standings tells us the Sox are 20 games over .500, two back of the Yankees, a half-game out in the wild card. In other words, right where we expected them to be back in Ft. Myers. Don't you know this is how it happens every damn year? The Sox lead the AL East through much of the summer, the Yankees take it back late, and then all important matters are settled in the postseason.
Only then will we get our answers. For now, some questions . . .
• What the $*$& is up with the bullpen? Seriously, dude, what the #*$*&@*#*?
Here's my solution: Julian Tavarez needs to get himself gone, immediately. He's the human black cloud - every time he comes into a game, some atrocity happens, even if he's pitching adequately. Send him back to St. Louis, or Elm Street, or wherever he came from, and get his wretched karma away from this ballclub, before he accidentally pokes out Big Papi's eye during a walkoff celebration or something. As far as the rest of them? They all have their flaws. Mike Timlin is 40 and meatball-prone, Manny Delcarmen and Craig Hansen are feeling the growing pains, and Rudy Seanez never should have been offered a contract (though he has pitched well lately). Even Jonathan Papelbon has been human lately, blowing four saves in the last month and a half, and yes, I feel like a leech for even mentioning that. Listen, there isn't a bullpen in the big leagues that isn't having issues of some sort. There's enough to work with here that I believe they'll get it right, despite Al Nipper's involvement.
• Why is Josh Beckett on the cover of ESPN Magazine this week?
Because their in-depth feature on gritty, gutty Matt Clement fell through? Seriously, the timing of this is more than a little curious - does that rag publish three months in advance or something? Even an unabashed Beckett fan - quit staring at me! - has to concede that his first season in Boston has fallen somewhere between enigmatic and disappointing. The consensus opinion is that he'd become an elite starter if he'd just knock off the macho Nuke LaLoosh b.s., stop trying to throw his fastball at 110 miles per hour, and actually pitch a little when he gets into trouble. It makes sense. But it also strikes me as too obvious, too convenient. This mule can't be that stubborn . . . can he? You'd think after giving up 31 homers - one more than Manny has hit, for perspective - and watching his ERA teeter around the 5.00 mark, Beckett would have been open to adjustments long ago. Yet there he was, serving up straight 96 mph fastball after straight 96 mph fastball in his sixth-inning meltdown against Cleveland the other night, and I know I'm not the only one who noticed that neither Terry Francona nor Nipper visited the mound until the Indians had strung together seven straight hits. I almost wondered if he was left out there to learn a lesson. Then again, he doesn't seem to have learned any so far. The reasons for his bizarre, practically bipolar pitching performances remain a mystery.
• Can we use the injuries as an excuse?
Nah, we'll leave that to the Yankees, who somehow have convinced every teleprompter-reading nitwit from Bristol, Conn., to happy-happy joy-joy McCarverland that their ability to hang around in the AL East despite losing Gary Sheffield and Hideki Matsui is a wonderful tale of overcoming adversity. Give me a bleeping break. The Yankees have a payroll of approximately $280,987,992.83, and that's not including what they shell out for A-Rod's psychologists, Jeter's cosmotologists, and Giambi's chemists. I know Yankee fans have the curious desire to be both favorites and underdogs, but even they must admit that being able to purchase a Bobby Abreu for fistful of not-so-magic beans is a massive advantage that only they and their accountants hold. You have overcome nothing, okay? If you're looking for sympathy for the devil, obviously you've come to the wrong place. Maybe you'll prefer how the brilliant dudes at Fire Joe Morgan put it:
I am the 2006 New York Yankees! Here is my line-up:
CF Johnny Damon. $13 million. SS Derek Jeter. $19 million. 1B Jason Giambi. $18 million. DH Gary Sheffield. $13 million. RF Bobby Abreu. $13 million. 3B Alex Rodriguez. $25 million. LF Hideki Matsui. $13 million. C Jorge Posada. $9 million 2B Robinson Cano. $381 thousand.
(Total for starting nine position players: $123 million. More than the Red Sox' 25 man-roster.)
How is this relevant? Well, when you have a lineup of players worth $123 million, and you lose $26 million worth of player, you still have a pretty (expletive) good lineup. The crazy patchwork lineups the Yankees have been trotting out there, full of (I'm not the good) M. Cabreras, A. Guiels, (the wrong) B. Crosbys, and A. Phillipses, are still anchored by the very expensive Misters Jeter, Rodriguez and Giambi, to say nothing of the fairly expensive Senors Damon and Posada. Spare me the what-a-goddamn-hero-Joe-Torre-is routine. The lineup at the beginning of the year was lethal -- a mockery of the game of baseball, in fact. No "winning culture" accounted for its ability to withstand the loss of two of its better hitters -- and not, I might add, its two best.
Have I mentioned that I love those guys? They make me so happy . . . I am the McCarver to their Jete-Jete. Hey, do you think they'll come out with an FJM cologne? (Ahem.) Um, anyway . . . about the Sox injuries. No, they are not an excuse. David Wells and Keith Foulke are back, Clement was ready to bury himself in a hole on the mound, Tim Wakefield apparently will return sooner rather than later, and Wily Mo Pena may well prove an upgrade on the powerless Trot Nixon. And while Jason Varitek's knee injury is the most painful blow, it's not quite as painful as it would be if he had hit with any authority over the past year, and I have to admit I catch myself wondering why so many pitchers underachieve on his watch. I don't mean to diminish his importance - even if the Captain Dirt Dog stuff is overstated, he obviously means a lot to the Sox for a myriad of reasons. But if Javy Lopez has any fuel left in the tank - a big if so far, admittedly - the Sox will survive until he returns.
• What happened to the cute little birdy who captured the Fenway Faithful's hearts as he attempted to teach Doug Mirabelli how to take a secondary lead?
Ate him. (Burrrrp . . . dee-licious!) Actually, rumor has it that one of his predatory enemies did him in the day after his moment in the sun. But no worries - you'll be able to buy an autographed copy of his carcass on Remy's website any day now, and for the low, low price of $29.95.
• Should Theo have done something - hell, anything - at the trade deadline?
A trustworthy middle reliever would have been swell, but I'm beginning to wonder if those exist anymore. Other than that, I don't know what the Sox were supposed to do, especially given the rampant mediocrity that made up this year's market. To put it another way, I'd rather gamble that Wells has something left to give rather than take on someone like Jon Lieber. Heck, I'd rather take my chances with Foulke than acquire another journeyman from the Tavarez/Seanez assembly line. As for what they almost did, well, I give zero credence to the Clemens rumors - I suspect that was just the Hendricks brothers being the Hendricks brothers. (Jimi and Elrod, I believe Leigh Montville once called them.) I was opposed to the Lester-Hanson-Crisp for Andruw Jones swap . . . at least until word came that the Sox would then wheel Jones to Houston for two-time 20-game winner Roy Oswalt. Now that would have been an intriguing move. Oswalt has been the unsung ace in baseball the last few seasons, but he reminds me, in stuff and fragility, of Tim Hudson, and I'm not sure that bodes well for his future. Ultimately, I talked myself into believing I was glad the deal fell through . . . but give me, oh, six beers and I might change my mind. (Come to think of it, that's the exact philosophy that caused more than few awkward moments at UMaine back in the day.) I do know this much: as all the rumors flew, I dearly missed having Gammons around to help sort the fact from the fiction.
• How's it gonna be?
Man, you know times are desperate when I'm quoting Third-Eye Blind song titles - we usually leave that pop-hipster '90s nonsense to Bronson Arroyo around here. So let's just put this as plainly as possible: The. Sox. Will. Be. Fine. As long as Papi and Manny keep doing their modern-day Ruth and Gehrig routine, offense will not be an issue, and Schilling and Papelbon give them the top-of-the-rotation ace and door-slamming closer they lacked last year when, by the way, they made the playoffs for the third straight season. I remain convinced they'll make it four, and you can insert your own semi-charmed life reference here.
* * * As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:
Considering ol' blue lips made more $$$$$$ in the time it took me to write that sentence than I'll make in the next 10 years, uh, no, I'm not feeling bad for Slappy McWhippingboy. The story is relentlessly fascinating, though. First, it's almost as if the soulless New York tabloid media (and to an extent, the Yankees' counterproductive fans) are on his case in part just to see how far they can push him. It's almost like they want to break him, want him to turn into another Knoblauch before their eyes, want him to feel unworthy, want to run perhaps the most talented player in baseball out of town for no other reason than because he is not Derek Jeter-McCarver, Captain of All Things Intangible. There's something voyeuristic and intensely cruel about what's happening here. I've always thought it was a matter of time before A-Rod seized the moment and carried the Yankees to a playoff series victory or two - and then I realized he'd already done it, against the Twins in '04, and everyone was too busy getting gauzy camera angles of Jeter's reactions to notice. Because of the burden of expectations, his monster contract and his calculated, insincere persona, A-Rod gets no leeway or credit for anything he has accomplished - it's what's expected of him, after all. So here is now, strangling the bat, grinding the damn thing into sawdust in his hands, trying to hit a five-run homer and wondering what the hell he's supposed to do. Here he is now, slinging air-mailed throws into the first base boxes, consulting one more quack psychologist, and spending sleepless nights asking why he ever agreed to change positions for that smirking jerk to the left, the alleged captain who defended Giambi but so tellingly refused to defend him. It's a colossal mess, and while as a Red Sox fan I hope he continues to submarine the Yankees, as a baseball fan I hope he gets his ---- straight, because it would be a shame for his talent to be devoured by the jackals. Let's just hope by the time he gets it together - if he gets it together - he's playing for the Phillies, or somewhere else far from this rivalry.
• What the hell did Harold Reynolds do to get fired by ESPN?
That's the question of the day. No one seems to know right now, but it must have been a doozy. Consider: This is the network that employs Mike Tirico, a serial sexual harasser if Mike Freeman's ESPN: An Uncensored History is to be believed. This is the network that employs Steve Phillips, who settled a sexual harassment suit while he was the general manager of the Mets in '98. This is the network that gave Rick Sutcliffe (bleep-faced on the air), Gary Miller (unleashed his bladder on a cop) and Michael Irvin (that's not my crack pipe, officer!) slaps on the wrist after particularly high-profile public embarassments. It's sort of a bummer, because while Reynolds wasn't exactly the most insighful analyst we've ever heard ("If you keep the ball down, you're going to pitch a no-hitter"), he was pleasant enough, clearly loves baseball, and wasn't an ignorant, screaming narcissist like, oh, I don't know, EVERYONE ELSE IN GOD-FORSAKEN BRISTOL! So he must have committed a pretty serious transgression to get canned. Probably refused to subscribe to ESPN Mobile or something.
• So who should "Baseball Tonight" hire to replace Reynolds?
Why, the Eck, of course. But considering they were stupid enough to hire Kruller Kruk over him in the first place, I imagine the best baseball analyst around will remain planted alongside Tom Caron for the foreseeable future. Hey, Sam Horn is available. And they can have Jim Rice, whom I'm pretty sure doesn't actually watch the games.
• Did you happen to catch Tony Gwynn's appearance on "The Best Damn Sports Show" a few days ago?
Yup, flipping channels, because I would never admit to watching that creepy, faux-camaraderie abomination on purpose. Man, it was shocking - Gwynn was pleasantly plump as a player, but now he looks like he swallowed the San Diego Chicken whole. Seriously, someone needs to say something to him before another beloved player of my generation goes the tragic way of Kirby Puckett. He's that fat.
• Why did Coco leap at the wall for Adrian Beltre's inside-the-park home run when it was five feet behind him?
Because Coco's GPS tracking system as a center fielder is severely defective. Does he ever take the proper route to a ball? It's like watching Bernie Williams before he turned completely to stone - his good speed usually makes up for atrocious instincts. But when it doesn't, it gets Hoseyesque.
• Were you surprised that Shea Hillenbrand napalmed his bridges in Toronto? He always seemed like a decent guy in Boston.
Let's put it this way. Someone I know who's around the Sox on a regular basis says Hillenbrand is the dumbest person he's ever met. Not professional athlete, mind you. Person. Even by the lowbrow standards of a baseball clubhouse, Hillenbrand has long been considered tactless and crude - you might recall him going on the radio and calling Theo a Guillen word for Mariotti upon his trade to Arizona in '03 - and even his friends (such as the dignified Vernon Wells) admit that it takes a long time knowing him to realize he's not a complete jerk. It's funny, when he made the Sox unexpectedly out of camp in 2001, he had sort of a wide-eyed, Opie-from-Mayberry persona. By most accounts, that lasted about a month, or as long as it took for all the scuzzbags on that team to convince him that real big leaguers were supposed to have a sense of entitlement and bitch about everything. Is it any wonder he still counts Carl Everett among his best friends in baseball? I don't know if Hillenbrand believes in dinosaurs. But I'm pretty sure he plays with toy ones.
• You claim to like Neyer and James a lot, but you don't use stats that often. Gimme a couple off the top of your head, Stat Boy.
Neyer and James - wasn't that a wine cooler back in the day? I think it's A-Rod's drink of choice if I recall correctly - Blue-Lippin' Blueberry, right? Anyway, got a couple:
1. "Light-hitting" Alex Gonzalez has two more home runs than Jeter (or, if you prefer, Trot Nixon. What was it that Trot was doing differently back when he had power, anyway?) And by the way, Sutcliffe blathered again last night that Jeter is the best defensive shortstop in the AL. Yup, I'm pretty sure he was drinking on their air again. You, me and A-Rod know that Gonzo is so much better than Jeter it's not even worth debating.
2. In his 13 wins, Josh Beckett has an ERA below 2.50 and a WHIP below 1. So while the 'EEI mouthbreathers and banshees can claim that he's been a bust, the fact is that when he's good - and he's been good enough to lead the majors in wins - he is dominating. (Of course, that also means he has been getting absolutely shellacked when he loses . . . but still, let me make my point, will ya?) As you've probably figured, I couldn't be happier with the three-year, $30 million dollar deal he signed last week. It locks up a talented young potential ace through his prime seasons at a very reasonable price (the less talented, less accomplished A.J. Burnett got two years and $25 million dollars more as a free agent), and Beckett gets a little bit of security and the comfort of knowing he's going to spend the next three seasons pitching in a place he enjoys. It's currently a win-win situation, with many more wins to come.
• The Sox are 2.5 up on the Yankees. Confident this is the year they win the East?
Confident, yes. Convinced . . . not quite. I think the Yankees will do something big before the deadline - my money is on a deal for Bobby Abreu, hopefully with Brian Cashman caving in and giving up prized Double A pitcher Philip Hughes. It would be a classic Yankees move - getting a big-name, big-money player who isn't entirely necessary and would detract from the already questionable chemistry (who sits when/if Sheffield and Matsui come back?) While Abreu is an on-base machine, he left his power at the 2005 Home Run Derby, and his nonchalance on the bases makes Manny look like Pete Rose. They can have him. As far as the Sox go, they obviously need to find a fifth starter, though I'm thinking there might be some validity in Jason Varitek's touting of Kyle Snyder. The stork version of Bronson Arroyo really does have good stuff - a legtimately above-average 12-to-6 curve, a tailing, sinking fastball, and enough command to spot his upper 80s heater. You can see the traces of the pitcher who was a high first-round pick a half-decade ago. If he could stay healthy and build up his stamina to get past the fifth inning once in a while, I think the Sox may have found something here. But if it doesn't work out, I wouldn't be surprised to see Theo make a trade for someone such as Jon Lieber, who's struggled for the Phillies this year but pitched very well for the Yankees in the '04 postseason. I never understood why the Yankees signed him after Tommy John surgery, paid for his year of rehab, then sent him on his way the season after they began reaping some rewards from their investment. But back to the main point, I think the Sox are the better team, and with a few minor tweaks here and there, that superiority will be reflected in the season's final standings.
• Finally . . . why is A-Rod holding that friggin' guitar?
Because, A-Rod rocks, yo! Actually, Bernie told him it would make him look sensitive. Also, he plans to smash it over Jeter's head when no one's looking. Then he can play shortstop again and everyone will love him, he just knows it.
If you came here this morning expecting some sort of semi-coherent preview on the Sox/Angels series, you can find my best attempt at that over here. Gotta push the paying gig first, peeps. 
