STEP AWAY from the birds, Jason Varitek.
I do not deal well with change.
I’m a gal who likes a routine. A ROUTINE, damnit. I wake up. I take a shower. I walk the dog while the straightening iron is heating. Start the tea kettle. Feed the cats. Drink my tea. Read the news. Prettify. Lipgloss. Pack my bag. Go to work.
If, say, the hot water were to disappear. Or the only tea bags I had left were decaff. Or my hair frizzed or something. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I WOULD DO.
Some call this obsessive compulsion. I call it a routine.
I have a routine with baseball, too.
It’s time honored. And Jason Varitek, you are part of it.
If you were to become an Oriole, that would be like me walking out of the house with frizzy hair. It would break the WORLD.
“I would love to be back,” Varitek told the WAAF’s Hill-Man Morning Show in October. “I have bled this uniform my entire career proudly. I’ve literally bled this uniform. It’s hard to think to go anywhere else. But like I have the last two winters, especially last winter, I know that it might not be in their plans. And then if I’m going to play, I have to be prepared to go somewhere else.”
Yeah, so, I know that you weren’t always a Red Sox. You played little league once- in the Little League World Series in 1984 (the year I was born).
But, see, I’m 27-years-old. When you first came to the Red Sox, I was like… 12. You have literally been here over HALF my life. And do anyone else’s memories blur over when they try to remember pre-2004? 2002. I graduated from high school. And you were here full time. And our special bond began. July 24, 2004, was when you first made me smile. REALLY smile.
I wanted you to be manager. They said no. I wanted you to be pitching coach. I’m assuming, they’ll look for another Marx re-enactor so the pitching coach and Bobby V. can match.
Now I just want you on our fricking roster so you can retire in a fricking Sox jersey and we can move on from our fricking Soxsplosion with some semblance of the team that WAS. Is stability SO MUCH TO ASK FOR, AMERICA? Think about the children!
So many things are changing. The Sox image. Beer. Chicken. New manager. New Theo. New closer.
Don’t take away our captain. DON’T. DO. IT.
And Tek! Tek, this is not the time! You just got married a week ago. You have a new baby on the way. How could you raise your baby in a non-Red Soxy household???? How COULD you?
And, yeah, he’s old. Yeah, we have the Satalamacchia-Lavarnway muscle. But don’t count Tek out. Every time you do, he nabs a home run. Every time. And remember- the thing that has always (pre-September) pushed the Sox above all others- it’s not the numbers. It’s the heart. It’s the passion behind the game. The positivity. The tradition. People like Varitek. Not something I want to lose. ESPECIALLY now. Put the fricking bird DOWN, Varitek. Put. It. DOWN.
Now for news on Tek’s opposite- where Tek is light, he is dark. That icky dark sluggy muck that borders icy mud puddles. Posada’s still looking for a job. Our hilarious foe, aka: The neck, applied for the Mets. That would be like me applying for a job writing church newsletters.
I’ve thought about this. Poor Posada. Struggling in the unemployed bazillionaires line at the ESC. Somebody ought to help him out, and I’m not talking about juice suppliers.
I think WE should hire him.
It’s the charitable thing to do, after all.
Stick him in a Sox jersey. Then stick him in the dugout. Pay him $11 (take it out of the Paps fund, Keebler), and let New York watch Jorge Posada retire in a Red Sox jersey. Hand him some pom-poms and tell him if we’re really winning, he gets to play. “Go Red Sox!” he’ll shout. I’ll take a picture. And I’ll have a new Christmas card to send to my pinstripe buddies in 2012.”No, I’m sorry, Jorge. You still can’t play. You just didn’t cheer loudly enough.”
I do hope he gets a job. I’m really hoping “Go Posada yourself” will catch on. And it so won’t if he’s not playing!
Do you think Bobby Valentine likes sunflower seeds? He’d better start, because I don’t know how many more changes I can handle.
PS- Bobby V got a two year deal. John Farrell will be in Toronto two more years. Coincidence? Let’s hope not!