Do you ever think it’s on purpose? Like, for some reason, Jon Lester is mad at us?
My puppy does this sometimes. Not so much anymore now that she’s a grown up (take note, Jon Lester). But you hear about it. Your puppy is angry at you so she poos in the middle of the floor. Or on your Fortune magazine.
Is this your middle-of-the-floor poo, Jon Lester? Okay. We get it. We’ll walk you. GEEZ.
Baaaaaad Pirate loss aside (the fricking PIRATES?), things aren’t so stable in the nation.
And, despite what you may read, it’s not just the rotation that’s breaking like hips on osteoporosis.
Oh good. Media reports of “trouble brewing.” I’m so glad we have the media to interpret horrible losses as horrible losses.
Okay. 6-5 wouldn’t be horrible. You know. Unless it was against the FRICKING Pirates.
But, let’s be comforted in the fact that it is just a dress rehearsal. Let’s all take a deep breath and…
Hi, Media. You’re back.
Is Bobby Valentine taking the right approach? <- Really? How can we POSSIBLY know that when haven’t even played a REAL game? Seriously, people. I’m not going to say I’m wading in tulips over the way this week has been playing out, but it’s SPRING TRAINING. They don’t always nail the soliloquies weeks before the show, guys…
The losses aren’t what fills me with motionsicky dread. What fills me with motionsicky dread is the overall organization, or lack thereof. How we’re still in rumored talks with Roy Oswalt (SERIOUSLY) and don’t have a concrete rotation. Or a concrete lineup. Or a concrete anything, really. It’s like a dress rehearsal with only half a script. THAT is what we should be freaking out about. Not specifics. The general icky disorganization.
Panic about the CORRECT thing, Soxies.
Bobby V is still not sure about Bard– I’m okay with that uncertainty. It’s this thing Bobby V and I share. If we were friends, we’d talk about this over cheesecake. Bobby V, unlike most of you, Twitter world, gets the free pass dilemma. Bard keeps handing them out. I think it’s because he’s charitable. There’s no room for charitable DURING the games, Bard. That’s what Jimmy Fund events are for…
“I don’t think that even with his good stuff I could handle the walks,” Valentine said. “Now I don’t know if [it’s the] spring…and trying to impress. That’s why I looked for the changeup. If there was a pitch he wasn’t comfortable with and that was causing some of these negative counts, I would have been able to use that as an excuse.”
Of course, look at our options… Doubront… MILLER…
Sigh. With the current troupe of players, Bard might be the default…
I have said all along I trust Aceves’ experience over Bard’s mound moping… I like Bard. I do. I like him in the bull pen. And, for once, I am not alone in the universe…
Speaking of things to get dizzy about- the Red Sox, at $1 billion (which will buy you a lot of yachts, eh, John Henry?), is the THIRD most valuable team, behind Stanks ($1.85 billion) and Dodgers )$1.5 billion). I’m telling you, it’s all those damn trucker hats the Stanks sell.
The Sox were FOURTH highest in TV rankings… But see, no one actually had to watch us last year, with the media’s careful attention to September highlights…
Fun facts to know and tell-
Do you think they’ll refund us our $69 from last year? I sure could use that money. I’d buy eggs.
Have you tweeted me yet? You should.
Speaking of Twitter, apparently, Red Sox Nation was baffled by an Aviles impersonator on Twitter…
PS- They’re trying to make me forget about Jason Varitek again, you guys. I feel as though we should all buy matching NEVER FOREGET bracelets. Who’s with me?
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…”
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?
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?
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.
I haven’t been watching spring training. Um.
And I haven’t been my usual Soxzombieness. Because I work a lot.
Oh, wow. He’s really gone, isn’t he?
Are we sure? I mean… um…
I’m sorry. I’ve missed a month. I have to go watch Bodyguard on repeat with an Edy’s pint. Excuse me.
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 firstname.lastname@example.org. 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.
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.
“I’m preparing myself for 140, 160 games,” Saltalamacchia said, speaking at the Jimmy Fund event on Saturday. “I don’t want to prepare myself for 80 or 100. I want to be ready and catch as many as I can.”
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.
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.
“If there are any Red Sox management here, you cannot let ‘Tek go,” Martinez said at a charity dinner in his honor at the Liberty Hotel. “You have to keep him in Boston. He was our head, our captain. He should retire as a member of the Red Sox, and never leave.”
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?
The Red Sox fairly have made clear to him that if he did come to camp, he’d serve mostly as “protection” in the event one of their two catchers, Jarrod Saltalamacchia or Kelly Shoppach, is hurt. Ryan Lavarnway is seen as Boston’s catcher of the future but is expected to start the year in Triple-A Pawtucket.
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.