A few things I've been meaning to say

• Four factoids/observations on the Sox's phenom of a fourth starter, Jon Lester: 1) He was the prospect the Sox were going to ship to Texas in the A-Rod deal. 2) If the comparisons to a young Bruce Hurst are going to be completely valid, he needs to grow a kick-ass mustache, pronto. 3) He could walk the first 27 hitters he faces in his next start, and I'd still enjoy watching him pitch more than Matt Clement. 4) Before the season, the consensus among scouts is that he is a superior prospect to Jonathan Papelbon, and though Papelbon's newly devastating splitter has enhanced his repertoire, Lester might actually have better stuff. And that poise . . . I'm not sure many 10-year veterans would have the stones to throw David Wright a 3-2 curveball with the bases loaded. Hey, have I mentioned that I'm giddy about this kid?

• I know it's going to happen, and I'm trying to prepare myself accordingly, but damn, I am going to be pissed when Captain Jetes fist-pumps his way to another undeserved Gold Glove. If only Gonzo had calm eyes, McCarver-melting intangibles, and most importantly, 1 1/2-step range, he might have a chance.

• Betcha Matt Clement is being paid by the Sox to pitch for a National League team by August. Theo isn't afraid to cut his losses, and Gammons wrote a few weeks ago that the Sox GM admits he regrets the signing. Maybe he can go join fellow Class of 2005 washout Edgar Renteria in Atlanta.


• Coco Crisp's catch the other night was one of the best I have ever seen, but man, sometimes he takes such curious routes to the ball that I wonder if he bought the map from Dwayne Hosey. He's good, but my early impressions are that Johnny Judas was a step better.

• I get the same sinking feeling when I realize Scott Kazmir is pitching against the Sox that Mets fans get when they realize Kazmir is pitching against . . . well, anyone.

• This Week's (Okay, Last Week's) Reason Jerry Trupiano Is As Funny As A Hemorrhoid, Chapter 2, Vol. 28,987:

This arrived in my in-box courtesy of my friend Hans, a colleague from my Monitor days, after Papi's walkoff single against the Phillies a week or so ago:

chad -- wondering if you caught this classic trupiano moment yesterday, which was accurately recounted in this morning's BSMW:

"Many people were probably in their cars driving home from work listening to the end of the game, and heard the over-the-top call from Jerry Trupiano which contained Superman references and screaming about how the Phillies did not have the kryptonite to stop Ortiz. It was impossible to know what actually happened, as all we knew was the the hit was to left center and than "Ortiz has done it again!" Listeners were left to wonder what exactly did Ortiz do? Hit a home run? It took almost a full minute for them to tell us how Ortiz won the game for the Sox."

that's exactly what happened to me. i was in the car and had no idea what ortiz had done. it was so obvious that trup had his lame superman riff rehearsed and ready to go that he forgot to actually explain what had happened. i didn't know until they got around to mentioning the final score (let's see, 8-7, guess it wasn't a dinger). also, he practically peed himself -- "Didn't I tell you?!!!" -- because he had correctly predicted that ortiz would try to stroke something to left or left-center. (let me get this straight: you're saying ortiz WON'T attempt to ground out into the overshift? you sure about that?)

on saturday, during the ortiz at bat, he kept his mouth busy by recounting all the stops in flash gordon's career instead of just shutting up and letting the drama build. his way back call was several beats behind the crowd reaction because he had to cut himself off. i'm still waiting to find out what happened to flash after he left the cubs.

Oh, I heard the fool - I was driving to work, and had the same reaction as my friend did: What the bleep was it? A single? Coke bottles? What happened!? I'm surprised he didn't call the Phillies pitcher "Lex Luthor." Just a horrible, contrived call. Sometimes I think Troop gets so geeked up during these extra-inning games - when he gets to do the play-by-play rather than Joe - that he can't help but go completely over the top trying to get his little soundbite. Too bad he has absolutely no sense of drama, tone, pace, the flight of the ball, anything. There are rumors that Troop is out after this season. God, I hope so. They could put Rosie O'Donnell in the booth next to Uncle Joe and I'd consider it an upgrade at this point. My hand is getting really tired of punching the steering wheel.

• Last year, I found Ozzie Guillen refreshing. This year, I find myself looking forward to the day he makes that one unforgivably stupid comment that will cost him both his job and his forum.

• I'm okay with Curt Schilling getting left off the All-Star team - four Sox is enough for me, and I suspect for the rest of the country as well, and while he's been good, he hasn't been nearly as good others who were snubbed, particularly the Twins' dazzling Francisco Liriano. Consider these stats, plucked from my heroes at Fire Joe Morgan.

[Liriano is] 9-1, 1.99 ERA. in 81.1 IP, he's allowed 59 H, and has a 94/20 K/BB ratio. His WHIP is .97. The league is slugging .292 against him, with a .256 OBA. His DIPS is 2.44. He might be the best pitcher in the AL right now.

The kid is having the season Felix Hernandez was supposed to have. There's no player I'd rather see at this point, and it's a shame he won't have a chance to announce his arrival as superstar on the All-Star stage. Hopefully he'll get added by MLB.com final player vote. He deserves to be there, and fans deserve to see him.

• From a Dan Shaughnessy column on the Red Sox's decision to release Bill Buckner, June 6, 1990:

At least Buckner did not have to wait for an old-timer's day or a 20-year reunion to learn that Sox fans aren't taking it personally anymore. Opening Day 1990 was a cathartic experience for Buckner and the baseball fans of New England. The hobbling warhorse got the loudest and longest ovation when Sherm Feller introduced this year's Red Sox.

My points: All the hairdos and talking-heads who claimed Buckner was "finally" forgiven at Fenway during the recent reunion of the '86 are either a) revising history for the benefit of a stupid-ass storyline, or b) have no friggin' idea what they're talking about. Probably a little of both, actually. Sox fans have NEVER held anything against Buckner, an original Dirt Dog who was admired for his toughness and productivity. I wish Fox Sports and the like would stop perpetrating the myth that Boston drove him away. He's always been welcome here.

• I've learned to give Danny Ainge the benefit of the doubt on draft day, and I think he found some helpful players again this season. Though I thought Randy Foye and Brandon Roy were the two most ready-made pros in this year's class, Sebastian Telfair has the ability to become a legitimate starting point guard, and getting him out of that Portland mess and bringing him here is a risk worth taking. Rajon Rondo, a live wire with lockdown defensive skills, was one of the most intriguing college players I saw last season, though I admit I'm not as intrigued as Billy Packer, who couldn't go two possessions without mentioning the size of Rondo's hands. If he could develop a better jumpshot than say, yours, he could be special. I even like second-rounder Leon Powe, who has the talent and maturity to stick in the Association. But Ainge's B+ grade becomes an immediate F if he trades for Allen Iverson. While I appreciate Iverson's ability and fearlessness, his reckless play (and, perhaps, lifestyle) suggests to me that when he loses it, he's going to lose it fast. Getting him as he heads into his 30s is an ill-advised move, particularly at the expense of the young talent Ainge has stockpiled. Futhermore, it would contradict Ainge's plan for restoring the franchise, raising my suspicions that the motivation for any such deal would be putting fannies in the seats rather than building a legitimate contender.

• You know major-league baseball's steroid investigators have a credibility problem when that walking pharmacy Jose Canseco's conspiracy theories start sounding plausible.

• Tell me again who the Sox were going to get for Manny this time last year? Aubrey (.266-6-23) Huff? Lastings (I got it, I got it . . . whoops, you take it) Milledge? Mike (.255-9-32) Cameron? What's that saying? Sometimes the best deals are the ones . . .

• When I realize I have an email from Peter Gammons - a writer whose words have been a part of my red-seam-wrapped world since I was 8 years old - let me tell you, I can't open the thing fast enough. Sometimes the emails arrive unsolicited. Other times, they are replies to an off-the-wall question ("Did Chico Walker get a fair shot with Boston?") I figure only he can answer, or would care to answer for that matter. Our most recent exchange, a few weeks ago, was regarding the death of an obscure former Phillies outfielder named Ron Jones from a brain aneurysm at age 42. Eerily, not a few days after I last heard from him, the news came that Gammons had been stricken with the same affliction and his life was in danger. While his prognosis sounds encouraging, I feel compelled to take a moment to say thank you to a man I've only met a few times, but whom has had an immense impact not only on my career but on my direction in life. His knowledgeable, passionate writing in the Globe convinced the young me that he had the coolest job in the world. Much to my delight, all these years later he's become a great friend to this silly little site, so generously situated in our corner even when I've been critical of something he's said or written. (You might have noticed I tend to get a little defensive when it comes to Manny.) Which, the way I understand it, makes me somewhere around the 1,000,000th person he's helped along the way. Be well, Peter. Baseball isn't the same without you.

• As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


Not sure what is more amazing: That Glavine is again a Cy Young contender at age 40, or that he apparently made the big leagues well before he hit puberty.

Catching up

Quick thoughts on the Sox while my daughter takes her afternoon snooze . . .

• Oh, one day, they'll be right. One of these years, Manny Ramirez will suffer a slump that extends through the summer, and all the morning show jackasses who are quick to suggest trading the one of the most productive hitters of all time for a collection of worn-down gamers and prospects they couldn't pick out of a pack of baseball cards will almost be justified in their feeding frenzy. But after Manny's 4-homer fireworks display during the Yankees series - you could just see him getting locked in, couldn't you? - I am glad to report that such a nosedive will not occur this season. Manny is being Manny once again, and I mean that in the 45-homer, 125-RBI sense. The haters will just have to find something else to occupy their time - making ignorant fun of Wily Mo, I suppose, or wondering why Renteria bunted for a hit against the Orioles in that game a year or so ago, or dare I suggest even watching a game to its conclusion once in a while.

• Oh-fer-5 with four strikeouts? Guess there's no need to drill Big Papi now, huh, Mike Vaccaro?

• I've written a lot of idiotic things in this space, and to quote that painful Red Roof Inn commercial we're force-fed 60 times per Sox telecast, chances are better than "remote" that I'll write a lot of idiotic things in the future. But I have to admit, it's going to be a long time before I spew something as stupid as my recent comparison of Lenny DiNardo to Andy Pettitte. What can I say? Sometimes the medication fails me.

• I believe A-Rod when he claims he had no idea where the ball was during his three-run homer Tuesday night. I will say, however, that only a five-star phony of his magnitude would evoke such skepticism.

• I'm officially worried about Jason Varitek. I don't know if he's hurt (remember him hobbling down to first a few weeks back?) or if the World Baseball Classic had an adverse affect on him, but something is not right. His swing has never been Griffeyesque, but now it's downright hideous, and even mediocre pitchers are having little trouble messing up his timing. Maybe it's just a slump - probably it's just a slump - but his age equals his uniform number now, and as every study suggests, very few catchers are productive at 33 and beyond.

• You say Willie Harris, I say Donnie Sadler with slower wheels.

• I've always liked Gabe Kapler - he's probably the most articulate athlete I've ever interviewed, and he just plain gets it, as evidenced again in this morning's Bob Ryan column - but as a ballplayer, he seemed like little more than a replacement-level journeyman, someone you're always trying to upgrade upon. But after six weeks of Dustan Mohr and Willie Harris, well, thank goodness he'll return soon to remind us that a fifth outfielder can actually be useful. Welcome back, Kapler. The Fenway Sweathogs have missed you.


• Trust me, I am not making this accusation in hindsight: Terry Francona bleeped up by sticking with Tim Wakefield too long Tuesday night. Ten straight balls is a pretty clear indication that a pitcher has lost it, and when a knuckleballer such as Wakefield suddenly goes bad, crooked numbers can go up on the scoreboard in as fast as you can say walk-walk-homer. But I am not going to fault Francona for leaving in Matt Clement to take a beating last night, because I'm convinced the manager was sending the player a message: You were pissed we skipped your turn against the Yankees last week? Prove me wrong. Prove to me you can handle the pressure, pitch out of trouble and win a meaningful game. In the end, all that Clement proved was that his manager's limited faith in him was justified. I doubt he'll be pitching against the Yankees again anytime soon if the Sox can help it.

• Kyle Farnsworth is by all accounts a meathead, but does he ever have some filthy stuff - maybe even enough to overcome his Jeff Weaver-Kenny Rogers-Ed Whitson meltdown potential. If I were a Yankee fan, I'd much rather see him on the mound than his predecessor, Tom Gordon.

• One more item regarding Clement: Don't know if you noticed last night, but after he got hit by Bernie Williams's line drive, he began flinching at batted balls that were nowhere near him. Coincidentally - or maybe not - that's also when his command and concentration went on the fritz. You'd be a fool not to believe that last summer's frightening incident in Tampa Bay remained in his consciousness, but until last night, I had no idea that it was still affecting him to this extent. But for every pitcher who recovers from being drilled in the head with a liner - Mike Mussina and Bill Swift come to mind - there are the Bryce Flories and Herb Scores, hurlers who never feel comfortable or safe on the mound again, and thus never pitch effectively. I'm not saying Clement is in the latter category, but I'm not ready to say he isn't, either.

• Scott Erickson and Terrence Long to the rescue? And Erubiel Durazo and Richard Hidalgo are on the way? Well, damn, let's just concede that 27th championship and get on with enjoying a Sox-free, stress-free summer already. Seriously, you'd think with all of their resources - and Brian Cashman's supposed acumen as a GM, of which I remain skeptical - the Yankees would do a better job of accumulating second-tier talent and maybe even an actual bench. The days of Darryl Strawberry, Role Player, must seem long ago to the Bronx faithful.

• I'm not one to write off a future Hall of Fame pitcher after a handful of rough starts . . . but man, Randy Johnson is a mess, overthrowing his fastball and sacrificing any semblance of command to make up for the MPH father time has taken. And his once-unhittable slider? It's so flat, it might as well have a neon Hit Me sign. Giving up a Mass Pike bomb to Manny is one thing, but when Kevin Youkilis is swinging from his heels against you, you know you've got troubles. It'll be interesting to see how - make that if - Johnson recovers from this. He clearly has no use for Jorge Posada, and with inexperienced Ron Guidry drawling in one ear and know-it-all Joe Kerrigan babbling into the other, it seems he's got a lot of people telling him what he's doing wrong, but no one yet with the solution.

As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



Speaking of Guidry, this kid is his second coming - yes, I think Kazmir is that talented. For a Mets fan, this has to be the equivalent of seeing Jeff Bagwell in a Red Sox uniform.