‘Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble,’ said Ben Cherington. ‘Gobble?’ asked Papi. ‘Gobble,’ replied Ben Cherington. Gobble. Gobble. Gobble.
I imagine the headline is exactly what happened last night. Except with less feathers and more irrelevance.
The Sox offered Papi salary arbitration.
Arbitration was also offered to… nope. Not Jason Varitek. Nope. Not Tim Wakefield. Nope, not Erik Bedard. Nope, not $$$, aka: JD Drew…
If you guessed DAN WHEELER, you’re moving on to final jeopardy. Because why wouldn’t we try to lock in Dan Wheeler first, who costs us about five dollars and brings good old fashioned mediocrity to the table?!
So, all Ortiz is worth, really, is one more draft pick than Dan Wheeler? Please don’t let this be a draft pick ruse, Ben Cherington. Ortiz has until December 7 to go big or go home. And, with no manager, no dignity and no stability, the Sox aren’t exactly demonstrating a convincing power point presentation on loyalty…
Erik Bedard, Trever Miller, Tim Wakefield, J.D. Drew, Conor Jackson, and Jason Varitek were not offered arbitration. They remain eligible to return.
I mean, last year by this time we had actually accomplished something. Yes, Adrian Gonzalez. I’m talking about you. Despite your poor old-person-jog to first, you were okay plus most of the time, and an MVP candidate.
And Curt Schilling.
Remember in 2003 when we got Curt Schilling on Thanksgiving? See, Thanksgiving is a time for giving THANKS. Usually, GMs take this seriously in Beantown. But Keebler’s going against the grain, see. Going against the grain and saying, right fielder? Right schmielder! I’m going to eat my turkey first, damnit!
I mean, some of us have to work today. Some of us had to get up at 5 a.m. to take pictures of a Turkey Trot race. And we did it with a smile on our face because that’s our job. I mean, I thought your job was to suture the Soxsplosion, Ben Cherington. But sure. Don’t worry about it on your holiday. I’m sure we won’t bleed out on the gurney, or anything. Because the Red Sox sooooo have a recent history of stable vitals. We know John Henry’s not worried about it. Because there are no worries on a yacht. Unless you’re Robert Wagner. Too soon? I think it’s still too soon for that joke. And I think I’ve been watching too much “Grey’s Anatomy.”
But sure. After a September/October/November/continuing collapse of dignity, the “wait and see” approach seems swelleriffic.
I mean, we don’t have a manager. Might as well leave the other holes open. That way we can play a full round of golf with all the emptiness. Seriously. Manager. Right field. Bull pen. Not to mention we have what, THREE healthy starting pitchers? Maybe they’re planning on an April of t-ball.
I’d like Jason Varitek to take over, please.
Or Kevin Millar. Because then, at least, if they WERE going to drink beer in the dugout, they’d SHARE.
Oh. Um. Happy Thanksgiving, people who aren’t working. Happy Thursday to everyone else…