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.
In addition to the hefty salary, Drew’s inability to stay completely healthy contributed to the stigma that he was overrated. He never appeared in more than 146 games in a season and averaged just 470 plate appearances per campaign from 1999-2011.
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…
“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.
Wow. That’s depressing.
I need a moment, guys…
And if you have a comment on ANYTHING you see here today, feel free to shoot me a buzz at email@example.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.
In random news- the midday to your Monday- our own goalgod Tim Thomas did NOT accompany the Bruins to the White House. Because Tim Thomas does NOT want to meet the president.
In further proof that no one is perfect- he clarifies that it’s not a case of the sniffles. Nope. He’s skipping out on the leader of the free world for “political reasons.” Insert eye roll here.
And, in 2012 fashion, Tim plans to release a statement on Facebook (really? REALLY? at 6 p.m.).
Okay. Tim. You know I love you. I do.
But swallow the ego. Seriously. Swallow it.
REALLY, Timmy???? REALLY? What political comment could you posssssibbbllyyyyy be expressing?
Make a comment. Don’t make a comment. I don’t care. But please don’t think this is important enough to schedule a statement. And please don’t do it via FACEBOOK.
I’m giving you a free pass on this one because, well, you gave me the Stanley Cup. But I’m quirking my brow at your picture and mouthing out “Oh REALLY?” right now.
And I promise I won’t care any more at 6 p.m.
Thomas, a known fan of conservative talk show host Glenn Beck, won both the Vezina and Conn Smyth last season, breaking the single-season record for save percentage and leading the Bruins to their first Stanley Cup victory in 39 years.
A KNOWN fan? I didn’t know that. Did you know that?
I saw Glenn Beck CRY on stage while reading a Christmas story, Tim.
Seriously. You don’t have to vote for him. But he doesn’t have leprosy (that’s Ryan Braun). You can shake the guy’s hand, Tim. You’re “one of two Americans on the roster.” Your hand won’t fall off. I promise. I have shaken Obama’s hand four times now. And I still have all of my fingers.
At least Tim won’t be suspended.
Ross has become a very popular player in San Francisco, earning the nickname “Ross the Boss” for his timely and sometimes powerful hitting, and above average fielding skills.
But re-read that. “sometimes powerful hitting.” “Above average fielding skills.”
Remember when we used to sign someone and the article said “extraordinary?”
Roy Oswalt has officially turned down the Tigers. So, rumor has it… he could be wearing Red Sox.
Oh. And in news that should surprise no one- Jorge Posada. Retiring. Official. It’s happening tomorrow. I am devastated by this (really). Because I think my Posada verb was just catching on. And now it has no chance. Jorge Posada really Posada-ed me on this. Go Posada yourself, Jorge.
And in roll-your-eyes news. I read that Sox Judas, Johnny Damon “really” wants to play for the Yankees. Okay, America. Roll your eyes.
Day four of crutches.
I think it’s starting to get to me.
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…
Jon Lester. 15-day disabled list.
John Lackey. On another kind of DL.
The DENIAL List.
And no. I’m not talking about a river in Egypt.
But who is in greater denial? John Lackey, who has an ERA of OVER 7.4, allows 7 runs in like three innings AND then says things like ““Overall, my arm felt pretty good?”
Or Theo Epstein, for STILL holding on to his $85 mill investment? An investment that is making the 2008 economic collapse look like a checking error.
Despite BUZZ to the contrary, he’s still around. Or maybe we’ve just ALLLLLL got our JLs mixed up. JOHN LACKEY, God. NOT JON LESTER.
Perhaps we should have all been more clear. That’s the last time I close my eyes and wish with initials alone.
“Maybe,” coworker-who-barely-knows-what-baseball-is says, to stop me from continuing ANOTHER John Lackey rant, “This Ted Epstein doesn’t have cable.”
I don’t have cable.
“Maybe,” exasperated coworker says, “He’s not as tech savvy as you with the internets.” (yes, we say the internets, plural, in THIS office)
He makes like, a BAZILLION dollars.
“Maybe,” dead-inside-coworker says, “He has better things to do than fire pitchers.”
He makes like, a BAZILLION dollars to do this.
“Maybe,” bleary-eyed coworker says, “You should save this for your blog.”
But, I already blogged about John Lackey. Like… ALL THE TIME.
And then he told me to shut up. Me. I know. The nerve of SOME PEOPLE.
PS- MORE STEROID NEWS. Awesome. They should call today WednesROIDday.
Alex Rodriguez’ doctor pleaded guilty today in federal court for… *drum roll* bringing drugs from Canada… including *another drum roll* HUMAN GROWTH HORMONE!
Awesome. Thanks, guys. For CONTINUALLY throwing the juice in America’s face.
Other athletes on…
the DENIAL List:
Johnny Damon (I’m still relevant! Hall of Fame, hear I come!)
Andy Pettitte (Roger is my BEST friend)
Derek Jeter (I’m still in the game!)
Jason Giambi (Wow, people sooooooo care about what I have to say)
Coco Crisp (This hairstyle is a GREAT look for me!)
Tiger Woods (I can change!)
Dale Earnhardt Jr (It’s a real sport. Really.)
The US Women’s Soccer Team (People are sooooo watching us on television right now. Sad but true, people. )
Maxim Lapierre (Je suis étonnant!)
Dirk Nowitzki (I have normal arms. Really. You guyyyssssss)
Jorge Posada (I could totally play another five years)
Manny Ramirez (This will ALLLL blow over)
Alex Rodriguez (They ALLLLL want to be my girlfriend)
The Cubs (It will happen our lifetime, guys!)
Got anymore? I’m trying to compile an official list. Then I’ll move onto actors. That means you, Nicholas Cage!
Because that is what Tim Wakefield is going to do.
We are hours away from holding the number one slot and wrapping it around Jorge Posada’s neck.
Wrapping it and wrapping it and wrapping it and…
Sorry. I’ve been writing about the North Carolina state budget all day.
Which means I need a win.
So Wake, get on that. Lots of things rhyme with Wake. Things like cake.
And cake is fantastic. Therefore, Wake will embark on a smacktastic Detroit smackdown.
I have been working on the budget. I am too tired for wit.
But not, apparently, to make up words. Like smacktastic. And timmerific.
I’m trying to decide whether to decorate my Tigers fan coworker’s desk with actual brooms or just pictures of brooms…
I really need to find someone to watch a game with. Who, you know, will actually wear the Red Sox hat. And, you know, will actually be okay with wearing the Red Sox hat. You know, wear it willingly. Proudly. Victoriously. Will maybe have his or her own Red Sox hat.
So. Um. You guys could move here. Or. Um. I could move to Boston?
I don’t know.
Would you hire me at your Boston paper? I write stuff.
I’m going to go take a nap.
Go Tim Wakefield!
Tied for… first? But… didn’t you say that couldn’t happen, April commentators? Didn’t you say that would be… wait… let me make sure I get this right… Orioles? The Baltimore Orioles? Were you… wrong?!
Was that title long enough?
Because I meant to say “were you really-really-really-really-really wrong? And when we said ‘it’s early, sports commentators,‘ and you were like, I’m going to make fun of your hopes and dreams for a few hours on every blog and radio show I can find and inspire your coworkers to leave brooms on your desk, it was, in fact, too early to make broad generalizations?”
So, imagine that’s tacked onto the headline for this piece. And yes, if you’re feeling nostalgic, click on some of those links.
I think the following commercial fits recent Sox activities to a tee. Ahem:
See, Detroit? You’re the kid. And that VW symbol? It’s really a B. And Cleveland, you’re the adult guy at the end. And Jorge Posada, I’m sorry but every blog post is NOT ABOUT YOU!
So yes, ladies and gentlemen, the Tigers were, no doubt, losers. But the real losers this week? Not Detroit. No, not even Cleveland. The REAL losers were sports commentators and bloggers who were making fun of us in April.
And Buck Showalter.
Oh-oh-oh- and Jorge Posada.
And Johnny Damon!
And Dominique Strauss-Kahn!
Wait… what were we talking about again?
Right. The Red Sox.
Go us! The Yankees play at 10:10. Stupid west coast games. Say they manage to lose…
First alone, baby.
So, kiddies, stay up late for me and cheer on our Washington brethren, okay? Because I have to get up at 5 a.m. to shoot a Memorial Day ceremony.
Oh, and could someone ask the rain to stop? Because I want to wear a sundress. Thanks.
PS- April sports commentators, you might find this helpful!
And… vintage Jason Varitek takes a ride on the time machine.
We missed you, Cap.
THESE are headlines I LIKE to read.
And that’s just what I found in the first two minutes.
There’s a lot to talk about today. But it’s late/early. And the captain is back.
And right now… that seems like all that’s important…
Captain, there’s no one quite like you… and there never will be…
PS- Thanks for the A-MAZING southernisms. I feel better. Bard can live now.
Keep ‘em coming. I’ll announce a winner… sometime.
#2 in the ALE. .5 behind the Stanks. I’d say we’re gunning for them, but I think the Yankees will Posada themselves no matter what we do…
Is that catching on yet?
With John Lackey out of the lineup, nothing can stop us now. We’re mediocre+ and bigger news than Jorge Posada’s strained ego.
Yesterday was old school. The kind of game that has us throwing forks against drywall (I know I’m not the only one). The kind of game that has us out of leftover moving bubble wrap in thirty seconds. The kind of game that scares your puppy so badly she hides in the bathtub. Again.
It was that kind of game. The kind where just as you’ve ripped the leftover plastic pieces into shreds, just when you’re about to pull a Hulk on some cardboard boxes, they rally and stomp.
There was some major rally-stomp action, thanks to the best investment we’ve made since that Marlins trade years ago: Adrian Gonzalez.
See, Adrian Gonzalez isn’t just a hero. You know, like Jason Bay. The kind of hero that sweeps in, makes the save, and leaves you to clean up the glass and file the damages with your insurance company.
Adrian Gonzalez is a guardian. He’s in it for the long haul, not just to catch you that one time when you find yourself falling off the empire state building.
Biggest comeback since 2009 Yankee stadium, they tell me. But it feels like the biggest comeback of all time. It’s probably because of our subpar trend with mediocrity. Maybe it’s because we’re all just so damn sick and tired of coming to work and finding a broom waiting for us in our cubicle. There’s just something about this season that’s been taxing. It’s not losing. We’ve lost before. It’s this groaning, agonizing BARELY losing crap. This playing against ourselves and LOSING to ourselves crap. It’s JOHN LACKEY (who, saints be praised, is on the DL list and can’t bother us again… for… you know… at least a week).
We needed this.
We got this.
And we’re over .500, baby.
But Dice-K, dear, this does NOT mean we’re okay. You need to work on your issues and your fear of going over that .500 hurdle. I get it. Because, see, once we’re mediocre+, there’s no going back to Lackey-esque obscurity. It’s up, up, up, and that’s a lot of pressure.
But Dice-K, dear, if you do not suck it up and start channeling old you, we are going to have a problem.
Okay. Now go celebrate with your little friends.
See, this feels good, but as I have said (at least twice), the ORIOLES are the WORST team in the ALE. They just are. So, enjoy the feeling. A victory is a victory, but just keep in mind that it’s a victory against the WORST team.
And Jorge Po-drama? (Thanks, Jup)
Who gives a frick?
And Boston Globe started a debate today: Should we resign Papi? Um. Yes. Yes, Tito. Don’t listen to them. YES.
You know, the Stankees are .513.
We are THREE games out of Tampa. Do you know who else is THREE games out of Tampa? Well, Toronto, but also NEW YORK. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
And, I don’t care what statistics say. Tampa is the other WORST team. They are rising out of the dust because the rest of us are killing each other. I give it a month.
PS- So, I was just doing some reading. I read, you know. Apparently, Joe Girardi banned ICE CREAM from the Yankees dugout. No WONDER Posada wants out.
Apparently, the ice cream ban isn’t a recent development. He banned soda too. And this was years ago. But I’m sure the ice cream deprivation adds up. You know.
Banning ice cream is like… it’s like… banning ICE CREAM.