Today has been ridiculously icky. Not only did I have to work (gahk. At least I didn’t fall into a deer carcass this time. See Twitter.), I had to teach my last class at Appalachian State University. I think I scared the bejeezus (that’s a word they use in Boone) out of the little dreamers and hopers. I might have told the little newsy hopefuls that their destinies included $18 k jobs and a lack of health insurance. Oh, and that stress and 80-hour work weeks would cause them to die alone of a heart condition with only the distribution of their underfed cats and a missed deadline to remind people they existed in the first place. You know. Unless that get a snazzy new biz journal job and a the promise of a snazzy new paycheck. But that probably won’t happen to you, I said. You are all too idealistic.
I must make myself pretty for my date tonight (I have a date. Yep. Now that I’m moving. I’m dating. That’s apparently how it works)- but you deserve news briefs. So, here.
And repeat after me- We DON’T need Roy Oswalt.
I’m thinking Alfredo Aceves will astound us all. Um. Maybe. Here you go:
Edwin Jackson dissed us officially. For – and this one will make you roll your eyes- THE NATIONALS. Whatever. $10 mill? Really? Whatever.
Some people say we should go after the Nationals reject now- John Lannan.
Lannan is a groundball pitcher who has never induced fewer than 50 percent grounders, and holds a career groundball-to-flyball ratio of 1.9. His FIP haven’t exactly been stellar despite this, as he’s been about 12 percent worse than the league in that regard over his career.
Um. I’d rather have Scut back.
Curt Schilling WON’T STOP TALKING.
This time he’s not talking about video games. Or the Red Sox. Traitor boy is talking Cubs.
“I would feel very comfortable putting a very large chunk of money that [a World Series title] would happen in the next five to 10 years. This guy is a game-changer from a baseball knowledge perspective. He is as smart, as aware as anyone I have ever been around, and I’m talking about game smart. The kind of smarts that generally have been associated with people who have been on the field.
“He understands the human element to this. A lot of what I learned from and about Theo I’ve taken into my company and tried to help my company grow. Theo gets it, and it’s not lost on the people who played for him. He’s the only general manager I ever played around who fit into the clubhouse. That’s a very dangerous thing for general managers, especially if they don’t fit. He was always welcome. He’s a very smart guy.”
Whatever. Thank you for 2004. Now go home.
So, Cubs. If Curt is right, you’ll get the WS. Whatever. We get your scout. Um. Well, we DO get your scout.
The Red Sox have hired one of former Cubs GM Jim Hendry’s top assistants to help out their major league scouting staff. He’s veteran scout Gary Hughes, who served as special assistant to Hendry before resigning in late September after Hendry was fired.
Hughes is 70-years-old. He scouted Tom Brady as a catcher. So. He’s old. And he recognizes good hair when he sees it.
And in news that makes the reporter in me cringe in utter heebee jeebees, New York Times Company lost like $40 katrillion (eeek!) and had to sell some of its Sox stock to an “undisclosed” buyer.
Let me repeat that parenthetical: EEEEEEK.
So, not only does some rich kazillionaire out there (hey, it could be Snookie people, you don’t know) own us, my industry is melting faster than a wicked witch in a rain storm.
I think my feelings can best be expressed through the dramatic David Grey classic, “Nightblindness.”
I really enjoyed Bleacher Report today. Read under-the-radar-free-agents-that-paid-off.
They give Aceves (my personal fav) a shout out:
For a mere $635,000 Alfredo Aceves probably provided the highest overall return on investment.
Seriously. In a year that brought us Crawflop and A-walktofirst-Gonzalez, Aceves was a rock star.
It was such a nice season that Aceves may have a shot at a spot in the Red Sox starting rotation this coming season. Even if he doesn’t start, another season similar to last year’s will net Aceves a considerable raise the next time his contract comes up.
I’d really, really, really like to see Aceves start. Over Bard. Just saying.
Troy O’Leary is another nice example.
In irritating news, our very own East Bound and Downesque Vincente Padilla may be delayed by LEGAL TROUBLE. An arrest warrant in Nicaragua (I have to interview someone in Nicaragua at 5!) for child support something could delay him getting back to the states. So it’s not even a nifty arrest warrant. Like for assaulting a Stankee.
And here’s something irritating. Theo’s now all roses that him and Cashman can be buddies. It’s all about the shirt.
“I was never able to totally relax because I felt like he was always lurking,” Epstein said. “He had a great sense of the marketplace.”
But now they can jog down the hillside and pick poppies together.
Brian Cashman and Theo Epstein said that after years of being on opposite sides of baseball’s most bitter rivalry, they are looking forward to being able to make deals with one another.
Oh- and Carl Crawford is now an accused swindler.
Somehow, I think Carl can afford the lawsuit.
Have a lovely Friday! Off to get pretty(er).
I think I get it. I think I get why it seems to irritate these baseball players to be offered loads of money to move to a new city and play a game.
Because, see, I have an offer too, Roy Oswalt. More money. To move. And I should be celebrating. Or eating cake. Or dancing to Cheap Trick or something. But I’m not. Because I have cleaning and packing and cleaning and packing. Is that why you’re not excited? Because you know, Boston or otherwise, you still have to pack…
I think that’s it. Baseball players just don’t want to move. Because moving is horrifying. Terrifying. Annoying. Irritating. Sweaty. Gross. Inconvenient. And heavy. Oh. And expensive. So expensive. What was I talking about again? Oh, right. Roy Oswalt. And Edwin Jackson. And the rest of the baseball players of America who don’t want to move to Boston.
It’s so expensive, that I’ve resorted to some creative, if humbling tactics. Like begging. And Craigslist ads.
But see, Roy Oswalt, you’re rich. You can pay people to do this crap for you. I looked it up. For like $1,500, you can even get someone to put everything in boxes for you. $1,500. Hmmm. What do you think they’ll do for $15? I can spare $15. $22. But that’s ALL I have in my emergency vodka fund.
Which means… I’d have to do some of this sober…
THAT could be a problem…
But not for YOU, Roy Oswalt.
You could probably drink mimosas on your porch (it’s going to have to be beer if you’re moving to Boston) and take bets on which mover splits a disk first. You could probably sit on your porch and play a rich person game. Like bridge. You could drink mimosas. Play bridge. And watch blue collar workers break themselves over your canopy bed. Do you have a canopy bed? If I was rich, I’d have a canopy bed. I think I’m going to buy a canopy bed. But I’m going to wait until I get to Raleigh so I don’t have to move it. Maybe I could donate all of my things to charity and get new things. Um. From a charity. In Raleigh. Um. Things cost money…
If you don’t want to go the professional mover route and, you know, actually accomplish something. You could hire college students. Or. Um. Me. I bet moving your things would be more interesting than moving my things. Can I have your canopy bed? You can pay me $1,500 exactly so that I can get to Raleigh.
I have a lot of girly things. Like really, really girly things. Like Miley Cyrus-esque hot pink things. I should get rid of my hot pink things. Adults don’t have hot pink things. I’m already pushing it with my Red Sox lamps…
Some free advice- NEVER watch your boyfriend’s cats for five months. Because he won’t pay you back for food like he said he would. And, when you break up and they’ve destroyed your carpet and made your house smell, the ex will just call you a bad word in a grocery store parking lot. I mean, I’ve heard that can happen. Um…
So, in relevant to everyone else news, the Sox could actually get something out of this Cubs situation. I mean, -I- doubt it… but some people actually think we’ll see a payday.
We’re NOT close to a deal with Edwin Jackson. Of course not. Because that would be the opposite of stagnancy. And stagnancy is the off-season theme. Can’t depart from the theme. Oh no.
In I’ll-Elaborate-On-This-Later news, Timmy Wakefield is thinking retirement.
We have another random bargain bullpen (seriously- what’s with this?).
Oswalt hates us.
Jenny Dell stole my job.
And I have so much fricking packing to do that it is interfering with my Sox news alerts.
Oh. And Jose Canseco STILL hasn’t e-mailed me back.
He did update his twitter feed, though.
Packing and packing and packing. Looking for music to pack to. But still on that Gavin DeGraw kick…
Do you think John Lackey’s TJ surgery means he can’t lift things? Because we could load him up like a packhorse! I mean, he’s already paid for…
OOPS! Sorry! Wrong photo.
Here we go:
Thanks to THEO, we’re going to the principal’s office. Where, undoubtedly, we’ll all lose our ability to hold back laughter. Awkward, awkward laughter.
The compensation headache over Theo Epstein’s move from the Boston Red Sox to the Cubs is officially Bud Selig’s problem, turning a minor embarrassment for the Cubs into a potential precedent-setting action for Major League Baseball.
See. I know what you’re doing, Theo. You’re making all these jackass moves and throwing them in our faces so that we’ll hate you. You’ve been doing it allllllll offseason. So that we’ll cry, “Theo? Theo Epstein? Bah. Curse that Theo Epstein. We don’t need him or his big, big moves!” And then Bud Selig (who hears everything. Except needle injections) will say, “hark! You don’t need him? Then here is your $5. Epstein buy-out problem solved!”
You know what, Theo? It is not going to work. You are worth so so so so so much. INVALUABLE. Hear me, Selig? It’s like, you take alllllll the elephants in the world (they’re endangered, you know. And expensive) and add in Yu Darvish’s salary. And multiply it by how old Tim Wakefield is (he’s a hundred, apparently. I read it in a Yankees blog). And then you add in all the copper (it’s valuable. I saw it on the news) from allllll the street lights on U.S. 1 and then you add in a pot o’gold for every Papeljig in the history of Papeldom (curse you, Philadelphia! curse you all! um. Unless you’re a fan in Delaware. Then great tidings to you. Great indeed). And then you add your five dollars. And THAT is how much the Red Sox will accept for Theo Epstein.
Or. Um. Garza. Castro AND Jackson.
Don’t like it? SEND HIM BACK.
Oops! Did it again! Awkward…
Here you go- Sorry about that.
In other news, I landed in Philadelphia this morning and have been playing in Delaware all day. I love it here. There is Thai food and I feel appreciated. Oh. But the speed limits are ridiculously low. Which bothered me, until I realized no one has to follow them. And people really, really like stocking hats. And I don’t think you can talk on a cell phone and drive. Which is silly. Because I’m very popular and people call me a lot.
There is a place here called Tasti Thai. It is a restaurant. Not a… um. It’s a restaurant.
But there’s no Which Wich Sandwich Shop. Nowhere is perfect, I guess.
Could you call the state of Delaware and tell them to hire me? Thanks.
And Jonathan Papelbon didn’t even have the decency to meet me at the airport. After ALLLLLLLL the cheering I have done for him. I guess it really is over, guys.
Nick Cafardo and I agree on one thing today. And that is Tim Wakefield.
Who- as I’ve said before- we shouldn’t just write off- despite the imaginary walker.
Not sure it’s safe to assume that his tenure with Boston is over. Even if they don’t sign him right now, what prevents them from bringing him back in May or June or even after the All-Star break if they need a starter? He could always be one of those half-season veteran pitchers.
That’s what I see for Tim. Tim’s a utility guy and a hero. He’s not the guy you parade around the mound for a milestone. He can still serve a purpose.
And every time we write him out- he comes back as a weapon.
Well, you know. Except for that one time. Okay, that several times over the summer.
But that wasn’t his fault, see. It was the number.
Numbers are scary beasts.
So. Here’s the deal, folks. Benny C is playing it… safe? Is that even the word for this? He’s certainly playing it oppositeville. Maybe he was hanging out with Michael Hill… they were playing chess, see, when all of a sudden… the board, it got struck by lightning, right? And their hair frizzed up. Oh! And then, something magical happened like that one time on Gilligan’s Island. They switched brains!!!!!
Or, maybe Benny C doesn’t know we have money.
Maybe he doesn’t read all the disparaging comments people make about how we’re moneybaggers and buy our championships and have a bazillion dollars.
Or maybe he’s busy arguing salaries with our six unsigned arbitration-eligible players: RHP Alfredo Aceves, INF Mike Aviles, RHP Andrew Bailey, RHP Daniel Bard, OF Jacoby Ellsbury and DH David Ortiz.
Or maybe he’s still playing with the rolly chair in what used to be Theo Epstein’s office.
Are we REALLY too broke for Roy Oswalt?
I do not understand how moving around payroll works. I understand that it’s how we lost Alex Rodriguez (blessing in disguise). I understand that the internet understands it better than I do-
Can we unLackey ourselves or something? I mean, it’s not like he can play…
I am so confuzzled by our pseudo-poverty.
So, in other words- this could be as good as it gets- at least for now.
Provided we have Aceves in our rotation- how do we stack up- right now- as of Jan. 17? Because I’m not feeling the rotation strength. The real people we’ll be counting on- Lester, Beckett, Buccholz- they couldn’t pull us out of a Soxplosion. And now they’re starring in our comeback tour? I’m not feeling the pep today, folks.
In other news- it always hurts when someone moves on. You know the relationship is over. You say you’re fine. But it’s like that Gavin DeGraw song-
I think it’s pretty obvious who I’m talking about…
I’m cooped up in the condo after “over-exerting” my crutches-bound-self yesterday, bored as HELL, and NO ONE. NO ONE will bring me ice cream. It’s kind of ridiculous. And these people call themselves my friends! Hah! “No, sorry, Lauren. We have to work.” WORK. BAH. Some of us can’t WALK. Much less work. Brag about your functional limbs, why don’t you? Jackasses. Jackasses every one.
When the initial shock fades of, you know, imploding your ankle, the other injuries start to surface. Like, let’s say you slid down a flight of stairs into a wall. Clearly, your ankle isn’t the only thing you made purple. But you’re so busy concentrating on your ankle, you don’t notice the tiger striped bruising all over your back. Not right away.
I notice now.
I am SO bored, America. And limited by the many, many stairs in my apartment. And the fact that I can’t move! I have to cover something at 3 p.m., regardless. So stairs, you WILL be my bitch.
AND CRUTCHES MAKE YOUR ARMS HURT.
I went out last night. Which was idiotic. And some guy had to carry me to my car. And I had parked at the courthouse. Because that’s what you do in Boone. And a friend drove by and thought I was, how did he put it? Oh, “in the drunk tank.” It was interesting.
And I know you’re really glad I shared that with you.
So. Alfonso Soriano…
Epstein is trying to gut the Cubs from all of their bad contracts and start anew, and has been willing to eat a lot of money to do so.
His next order of business is to find a place for outfielder Alfonso Soriano. But it won’t be the Red Sox. They are not interested, according to a major league source.
I miss you, Theo.
But I have this little question. WHY THE FRICK DIDN’T YOU GUT THE SOX WHEN YOU WERE OUR GM, Huh? Why did we have to watch Lugo OVER and OVER and OVER again???? Why-oh-why-oh-why did we not sell John Lackey for parts when he was kind of HEALTHY????
And don’t get me STARTED on Delcarmen.
In other I’m-Still-Trapped-Here-and-Bored-with-Netflix news… Matt Garza is expensive.
And Danny Duquette is playing with dirt.
So. Um. Anyone got any good stories? Any good knockknock jokes? Want to bring me ice cream?
Oh, and remember that job interview I had where they basically said I was pretty and had a great personality but wasn’t “intellectual” enough for the job? Apparently, my badass package (filled with examples of my intellect, FYI) impressed them and they called me back! So, if I can ever get down these stairs, I have a meeting with the publisher a week from today.
Seriously. Anyone like online scrabble?
My everything hurts.
This means no more Papface.
No more Papjig.
No more PAPELBON.
He’s leaving us, see, for the SANDWICHES.
Seriously, Paps. I bet you could have found a sandwich in the dugout underneath all the KFC bags.
WHO WILL REMAIN AND WHAT WILL BE LEFT OF US?
I am never, ever, ever leaving town again.
NO MORE PAPELPUNS. OHNO.
I am most upset about this. I need some time to process my emotions. And… the candy at the office today is… CIRCUS PEANUTS??? What the frick?
PS- You know what hurts worse than watching your ex move on?
This is a TERRIBLE day in sports.
I am very angry.
But, when I take a minute. And pretend this isn’t the sum of an epic, epic collapse and its chaotic little entraily parts… I realize that Theo, OUR Theo… is in a better place.
While we will mourn his passing… we can take comfort in the fact that he and our beloved Tito do not have to deal with the SHITSTORM that is a Red Sox 2011 October. A shitstorm, mind you, that is EPICLY worse than the shitstorm that was our September.
The weather report?
So, Theo, now that I have calmed down and taken YOUR feelings into consideration, my feelings can best be expressed by the 1970s sensation Kansas. Ahem:
Excuse me. I’m going to go cry in a public restroom now.
HOLD THE PHONE. I have figured it out. I have a song. I have a scene. THAT PERFECTLY describes what is going on in Boston. I know I hurl my musical theatre background at you guys constantly and sometimes have to reach for relevance- but listen to this WHOLE song and TELL ME it is not the stupid Red Sox front office. Humor me and enjoy your education. Your instructor? Who I wanted to be when I grew up: Bernadette Peters. And I still could. I am not a grown up yet.
By the way, her name is Nancy Brady and she is a homewrecker.
Maybe it isn’t true…
AND ANOTHER THING- the boy (the one that’s not Kevin Youkilis and exists on this reality plane) is at a Canes vs Bruins game. Right now. In Raleigh. And I’m not there.