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Mulder says we should believe in you, Dice-K. But I have been hurt before.
Happy Jon Lester day, everybody! Sorry, just practicing. That’s right! The most Lesterish of all the lefties is primed to attack opening day.You’re watching, right? Because apparently Lester’s father won’t be. And that’s a shame, because Lester’s a special, special guy, and I’m sure he’s sorry about Soxplosion, 2011. I’m sure he’s sorry and that I’ll be getting my apology letter any day now.
I’m expecting one from you too, DOUBRONT. I hate to judge games I didn’t physically watch… but REALLY? REALLY, FELIX?
They were saying NICE things about you. Remember that? Remember THIS?
And you go Lackey on us against the fricking Twins?
And I didn’t forget about YOU, Melancon. I’m just… I can’t… I WILL GET TO YOU LATER. What really frightens me about you, Melancon? Is that Bobby V doesn’t seem to think you are horrible.
“Melancon outing? I thought he backed up the bases pretty well. He had that down,” said Valentine when asked about the reliever…
It absolutely fills me with a cold, hollow, trapped-in-a-well kind of fear when the managers think Lackey-esque performances back up bases “pretty well.” We saw it with Francona and Lackey. We saw it with Francona and Timlin. Need I remind anyone of a man named Lugo? Nearsightedness is a part of the aging process, Bobby V. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Just recognize it now and get some cool specs by April, k? They make prescription sunglasses and you could probably even get a fake nose and mustache for them.
Bobby V says he’s going to “sit down” and have a serious conversation about pitching. Um. Okay. Sure. I mean, I would have had that sit down, serious conversation about pitching while forming my rotation. You know. DURING THE OFFSEASON. But sure, with what, TWO FRICKING WEEKS to go before Opening Day? Sure. Let’s all just SIT DOWN now. You sure you don’t want to wait two weeks? Maybe discuss it over CHICKEN?
I’m okay. I’m okay. Totally over September. TOTALLY OVER IT.
I have said it before. I shall say it again. Right. Now. Aceves for rotation. Do it, Bobby V. DO IT. It’s not like we can…
Wait… what… wh… oh my God you guys… Could it… is it… DON’T TOY WITH ME, BOBBY. I have been hurt before. What’s that? Shining in the distance?
Oh hope, you calculating mistress… teasing us in the form of a…

This is exactly like that early 90s cult classic, “the X-Files,” available now on Netflix.
Allow me to explain.
See, for those of you who were like, seven when this came out with mean parents who didn’t let you watch the X-Files because of “graphic content” and nightmares and stuff (and you don’t have Netflix. Because, if you have Netflix, I’m sure you’re already a “believer”), the X-files is about these two FBI agents. There’s a skeptic. Her name is Scully. She’s not relevant to my rambly metaphor. But I like her hair. And then there’s Mulder. See, Mulder, really WANTS TO BELIEVE in things like extraterrestrials and scifi stuff and an afterlife, right, because it gives his life’s mission purpose. It means there’s something out there that means something, see? Oh, and that his sister isn’t dead. But you can get a full explanation on that sideplot from wikipedia.
“I want to believe that the dead are not lost to us…”
Ahem.
Dice-K, I WANT TO BELIEVE in you, because that gives the 80 katrillion dollars and 17 gallons of tears I have shed for you a purpose. But I need evidence.
Much in the same way that, in season 2 of X-Files, Mulder needs EVIDENCE to continue his quest.
Can you tell what I was doing before I made Raleigh friends?
So see, Dice-K. You’re the aliens. We want to believe in you. But you’ve got to stop abducting people and just have a nationally televised conversation. And. You know. Pitch.
What do you think, Soxies? Do you believe in Dice-K? Or do you think we’re alone in the universe?
—
In other news, the media is really sorry about all that chicken sh#$ (see what I did there?) they spread in September and they’re trying to apologize by over compensating Lavarnway style. I appreciate the attempt to keep my cries of “VARITEK! WHYYYYY” at a minimum. But, seriously, Boston Globe. You don’t have to pander to me. All I need is time.
Some encouraging words about Jose… I mean, we didn’t win. But, apparently, he caught a cool ball. So that’s nice.
Oh, and the media, so astute they are, have decided to tell us all that Bobby V is not Terry Francona. Thanks, Yahoo Sports. What would I do without you in my life? I get you mixed up too, media. Like, just the other day, I was like, Why, Hello, Anderson Cooper! What are YOU doing in the booth? And then I realized it was Jerry Remy. You make THAT much sense, Yahoo Sports.
In conclusion, today was a sucky Red Sox day. Except for the bit about Lesterness.
So, comment, nation. Comment away. Doubront, or not to Doubront? Dice-K, or not to Dice-K? Aliens, or no aliens? Scully or Mulder?
~L
I am alive. Apparently, you CAN live without… *sigh*… Jason… VARITEKKKKKK
I am alive.
Thanks for asking.
Seriously. The thirty bazillion messages you guys have sent me over the past three weeks have been a nice interruption from my days of working and pretending to unpack.
I live in Raleigh now. I have a real job. Oh. And an iPhone.
Now. I don’t want to come down on you too hard. After all, this is the first TooSoxy you’ve had in a month. But. I feel some criticism is warranted.
Ahem. I’ll try to stay calm. I’ll try-
—-
Really, guys? Really? REALLY? Re-frickingeallllyyyyy?
REALLY, GUYS?
Tim Wakefield?! Jason Varitek???? WHITNEY FRICKING HOUSTON????
What did you guys NOT destroy while I was gone? Who’s next? Judi Dench? (Please, GOD, NOT JUDI. TAKE ANDERSON COOPER. Or one of the Real Housewives!)
I just don’t know what to say to you people.
That’s why I’ve been absent. It’s not me. It’s YOU.
And your POOR stewardship of life and things.
So. Jason Varitek, hmm? I cried. A lot. I mean, part of it was that the night Jason Varitek announced his retirement was the night my car broke.
So begins the story of operation Red Sox friend hunt. Ahem. Imagine me saying this in a snazzy radio voice, k?
So, I heard of this group. The Triangle Red Sox Nation, right? So, I thought, what a perfect way to start my Raleigh friend hunt! God, of course, had other plans.
God killed the electric system on my car.
Let’s just say after my parking lot temper tantrum, Triangle Red Sox Nation will remember me…
Oh. I went on a date with a Red Sox fan. Well. Um. It was kind of a date. And another one with this really Democraty guy. That was different. It kind of felt like I was on a date with the news.
Oh. And I met this Stankee fan who is also a UNC fan and it was a thing.
There are lots of things.
I’ve gotten really good at this unpacking thing, for example.
See, the cool thing about living by yourself in an apartment with five closets is… you can do THIS.
oh! And This.
SERIOUSLY. TIM WAKEFIELD? He was our INSURANCE. Don’t you people listen to ANYTHING I say?
Oh. And I’m still seeing the perfect guy. The one who lives in Boone. But you know. By seeing, I mean NOT seeing. Since he’s in Boone. And I’m in Raleigh, the land of traffic circles where people are consistently confused by traffic circles. And he seems intrigued by the fact that, come April, I’ll hulk up into the Soxzombie. I don’t think he believes me, actually. I told him about that one time I accidentally… um… dropped that napkin dispenser on that one guy…
I think he doubts my hulkness.
So. Um.
JASON VARITEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I haven’t been watching spring training. Um.
And I haven’t been my usual Soxzombieness. Because I work a lot.
And. Um.
Oh, wow. He’s really gone, isn’t he?
Are we sure? I mean… um…
Are we…
Wow.
I’m sorry. I’ve missed a month. I have to go watch Bodyguard on repeat with an Edy’s pint. Excuse me.
~L
The baseball old folks’ home preps to add a few. Will require annex for Posada’s ego.

J.D. Drew is “probably” retiring, reports today indicate. Despite the mad flurry of Drew-hate peppering the nation over the past two years, I’ve never had a huge problem with you, J.D. I find your breakability irritating. I find your inconsistency mind-numbing (but attribute it to your breakability). But I remember the real you, J.D. I can still remember your home run pops and that cool indifferent reaction to your own badassishness. You’ll finish your career with a respectable 242 homers and my respect, sir.

You were very, very expensive. I mean. I don’t want to nitpick. But you were very. VERY. Expensive. I loved you in 2007. But I loved everyone in 2007 (mostly). I mean, you’re no Kevin Youkilis, J.D. Drew, but you can afford a Kevin Youkilis beard implant, if you want. I mean, you did average like, $8 million a year for 14 years. That’s even more impressive than those 242 homers. I hope you can use your retirement to… I don’t know… take vitamins or something.
But, in the words of Marc Antony, I come to honor you. Not pick you apart flaw by expensive flaw. But I think you need to retire. I think you need to retire. And up those fricking Flintstones because every time you break, angels cry.
—-

In “whatever” retirement news, Jorge Posada officially announced his retirement today.
I am devastated. Really.
Just when my Posada verb was catching on.
Just when people were starting to say “Go Posada yourself” when they were cut off in traffic.
Just when “I don’t give a Posada whether you take my lunch money. You’ll never take my self respect,” was the new “it” phrase to thwack bullies with…
YOU RETIRE?
Seriously?
Quitter.
“I could never wear another uniform,” Posada said at a televised Yankee Stadium news conference.

Literally. Didn’t you… um… try? And then have absolutely no success? Because no other uniforms would take you? You really Posada-ed yourself with that temper tantrum over the summer, mate.
Our very own Jason Varitek (possibly the next name on the plaque in front of the old folks retirement home) even had a comment. But he’s old too. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
“After hundreds of head-to-head games during the regular season and the postseason, I can’t say I respect and admire anyone at our position more than I do Jorge. The hard work and preparation he put into catching is a huge reason he has five championships on his resume. He is a true grinder.”
—-
As for the Tek (we alllllll know my Tek obsession. I won’t give you a double dose)-
It seems to me that dragging this out is helping no one, guys. He’s the captain. Show him a little more respect than arbitrary offers. Get real or get him coaching. ASAP.
I’m 27. And I’ll retire at age like, 97 at this rate.
So. Um.
Wow. That’s depressing.
I need a moment, guys…
~L
PS- The bulk of the emails I have been receiving today are in regards to my Tim Thomas comments. If that’s why you’re here, find those comments here and here.
And if you have a comment on ANYTHING you see here today, feel free to shoot me a buzz at ohnolauren@gmail.com. I LOVE e-mails. Like LOVE e-mails more than Posada loves his rings.
—-
Side note- $214 million? NINE years? Um. Okay. I don’t want Prince Fielder anymore. Um.
Would you like some Salt with your comeback tour?

With just months to go before the amazing Red Sox Comeback Tour 2012, our very own Saltalamacchia did the sensible thing- and accepted money to stay another year.
2.5 million will buy a lot of Salt. Hopefully, 140 games worth.
See, I like Salty. I mean, he’s no Tek… but I like you, Jarrod. You have a fun name. You surprise us with some kickass (and timely, A-Gonz. TIMELY) homeruns. And you have succccchhhhhh a fun name.
“This year, I feel a little more like I can say a few things, kind of express myself,” Saltalamacchia said. “I know the AL East a little bit more than I did in the past and I feel a little better in that sense.”
Express yourself, sure. Just don’t Schilling yourself, kid. I think Salty is the bee’s knees. And I am not alone.
Happy Salty Day, guys.
It must be nice to get $2.5 million after a year of $750k. It must be nice to make $750k. It must be nice to make $750. Or. Um. Like seven. People with money must be so happy.
~L
Well, there you go. Pedro says keep Tek forever.
When Pedro says something, the gods themselves listen.
True story. Like, this one time, he was like, wow, I wish I had a grilled cheese sandwich. And these birds flocked from the trees and learned how to make a grilled cheese sandwich. Like how they made the dress in Cinderella. Except with, you know, toast and cheese and stuff.
That could have happened. You don’t know. You’re not here. North Carolina is a magical place.
Pedro said something amazing today.
AND NEVER LEAVE.
This comes the same day we hear Tek’s been given a pity invite to spring training.
Yeah, well you know what, John Henry? He’s going to go to spring training. He’s going to train like you won’t believe. He’s going to train so well that you’ll beg him to come back to the roster. BEG HIM. Right Tek?
Um… Right Tek?
Um… So… Tek’s been awfully quiet through all of this…
Does that bother anyone else?
Then again… there’s another option.
Add in circulating rumors that he could be Pawtucketting... Really?
And, well, at least you’re in the news today, Tekky.
I’d kind of like to hear exactly what Tek thinks. Because, see, I’m kind of in favor of whatever Tek wants to do. I’m kind of hoping Tek wants to relocate to Boone, North Carolina and be my personal mentor. But, you know, whatever.
I do wish he’d say something.
I love you, Jason Varitek. Like, love-love. And I’d like you to live forever. Thanks. So. Um. Wake up. Stand up for yourself! Be assertive! And make sure that “C” is still attached to your jersey. I bet he sews “C”s to his pajamas. Tek, I bet you have manly pajamas.
My feelings can best be expressed through the following song by Wakey Wakey.
So, whatever YOU decide, Tek. I will support. Because you saved me life once. Or twice. Or. Um. All the time.
~L
Jorge Posada is a Cheap Trick.
Day four of crutches.
I think it’s starting to get to me.
Oh. Maybe that’s the Cheap Trick on repeat.
Girl’s gotta dance, people. Even if it’s only inside her head.
You know what sucks about not being able to walk? Watching other people walk.
And hearing people bragging ABOUT walking.
Then again, some people brag more than others, BOBBY VALENTINE.
“I did backflips,” said Bobby Valentine.“
Wow, Bobby. Wow. A little insensitive, don’t you think?
Meanwhile, in the nation, talk’s up about the possibility of Ryan Madson wearing a “B.”
I think I’d rather have Papelbon. But sure. Okay. Let’s take him from the Phillies.
Other people (Not just me!) are calling the Red Sox super boring this off-season…
DODGING (hah! a pun! a pun!) Joe Torre. Carlos Silva. Jason Varitek. And other news to whimsy your Wednesday.

Joe Torre is NO LONGER AT MLB! Why? Because he wants to be George Steinbrenner when he grows up.
Sorry, Bud Selig. You’re going to have to find another sleepover pal to play Truth or Dare with on those long, lonely nights… you could always hire a friend. You can afford it.

This was right before they did each other's nails.
Joe Torre resigns from MLB!
And there was much rejoicing.
But I don’t know if they’re rejoicing in LA. Of course, I do think I heard a chorus of Well-it-couldn’t-be-worse-than-McCourt. A catchy tune, that one…
You’ll recall he stuck it to NY by managing the Dodgers in 08- a role he won’t be returning to…
And NY stuck it to him in a… well… we don’t have to go down that awkward memory trip again.
—-
- I hope you’ve got another facial expression…
And the Sox could be hoping newly signed Carlos Silva hulks into a badass…
Nick Cafardo reports we’re still interested in Roy Oswalt, Hiroki Kuroda, and Joe Saunders- but not their price tags.
…the price tags on them are not compatible with their budget restraints for the 2012 season.
But Nick Cafardo gets nothing from me until his other prediction comes true- the one about Jason Varitek.
While there’s lots of Tekky speculation- nothing is coming from the actual RED SOX- a point gracefully pointed out today by MassLive.
Maybe the Red Sox are formulating a creative plan for Varitek to return in some non-playing role but stay in shape, just in case.
If it’s anything else, they are not being polite by stringing Varitek along.
Seriously.
If the Sox hired Varitek as a coach or advisor, but told him to stay in shape in case an emergency need for a catcher occurred, I could see the logic.
Let’s do that.
In other news… Snowpocalypse averted in Boone, North Carolina.
And I get to write about basketball Friday. The new guy (UNC-Chapel Hill fan/musician. Let’s call him “Sweaters.” Yes. Because he wears sweaters.) is big into basketball. So, I guess this will just give me an excuse to nab a couple study sessions. Is it tacky to bring wine?
~L
Tek will save us from the Snownados. Tek will save us all.
Snow. Youkilis. And Tek. But there’s so much snow, guys. SO. MUCH. SNOW. It’s 11 degrees. ELEVEN. That’s significant, Spinal Tap fans. So I’m distracted. Bear with me. You know. Polar bears have a lot of fur. I need a new electric blanket. Or an electric coat. Do they have electric coats?
—-
My thoughts on life today can best be expressed in this clip from Gilmore Girls. That’s right. Gilmore Girls.
There are SNOWNADOS. Did you know that?
SNOWNADOS.
They come at you with a frigid, frigid cruelty. Barreling at your car and making you cry on the way to work.
I fishtailed ALLLLLLL the way to work today in a 2009, hatchback version of this.
I hate snow so much that I updated the “about me” page to reflect this intense, intense sensation.
I hate snow. And I hate snow drivers.
The geniuses that the North Carolina mountains produce decided it would be a good idea to keep passing on my left. I mean, I 360-ed twice. But sure. I’m sure I’ll miss you, giant jackass SUV with your stupid 4wd and your stupid, stupid, stupid snow tires.
That’s just showing OFF.
The Chevy that can’t is begggggging me not to move to Mass. And I think God is concurring, what with his snow vomit of discouragement. Seriously. It’s been snow vomiting alllllll day. And I have to drive 15 mile to get home. And I hate-hate-hate-hate-hate-hate-hate-hate-hate weather.
So I’m sitting here, at the office my boss encouraged me to leave (because all of a sudden we’re concerned about my safety. Can’t afford orange traffic vests, folks.)
Procrastinating. I think I just saw Mrs. Gulch fly by. She sure looks cold.
I need a coat with a zipper.
Oh! And boots.
I had an accident with my yak tracks today. I don’t want to talk about it.
In Red Sox news, I am not the only one who appreciates Kevin Youkilis today. Take time out of your snowy schedules to read these wise, wise, wise words posted on redsox.com today.
I took the liberty of bolding the important part for you.
Doesn’t sound like trade fodder to me, naysayers.
Oh god… the snow just made a noise. Seriously. I heard it through the window.
Oh god…
I think it’s saying my name.
Here’s some news that might melt our troubled, troubled hearts-
VARITEK COULD BE BACKKKKKKK?

(Ohmygod, I heard it again. It. Is. Alive. Ohmygod. I think I saw a snowmonkey. Snowmonkeys aren’t real. They’re not real. They’re not… Oh god, its EYES!!!! Relax, Lauren. Stay cool. Focus on Tek. Tek will protect you…)

A paint rendering of what I totally just saw out my window. Totally. Okay. So. Um. It MIGHT have been a squirrel.
Ahem.
Where was I?
Right.
“I’ve heard that [bring Varitek back again is] a possibility,” Jon Heyman of CBS sports said.
Got that, people? JON HEYMAN. H-E-Y-M-A-N.
If Tek does not make a triumphant return, blame Nick Cafardo and JON HEYMAN for your dreams crushing.
(Oh god… it’s snowing harder. Keep typing Lauren! Keep typing! Ward off the frostbite)
Jacoby Ellsbury is getting a raise…
(Oh god… the snownado has a face! It’s looking at me! Oh no! It’s looking at me!)
Interesting article on Dice-K and Yu Darvish… we’re still looking at Kuroda… and…
I’m sorry guys. I can’t keep doing this. There’s something I must do…
If I don’t…
If I don’t…
Make it…
Just know that…
Well… I always…
You know what? Just make up something clever and tell everyone I said it, k?
We’ll always have Soxsplosion. Here’s looking at you, kid.
This never happens in FLORIDA.
Okay. That was SO not a squirrel.
~L
Do you ever think it’s on purpose? Like, for some reason, Jon Lester is mad at us?





