Sox Offenders

Remember back in March, you couldn’t wait for the baseball season to start? Football was long over, the Celtics sucked, and the Bruins – were they even playing? Then April rolls around and hope springs eternal. The Fens are crowded with fans and women are shedding their sweaters and turtlenecks for short skirts and tank tops. The Red Sox are in first. Then you blink your eyes and it’s the All-Star break. Then you wake up and it’s August 7^th, the Red Sox are in second place after suffering their most devastating loss of the season – to the Tampa Bay “don’t call me Devil” Rays. What does the team have to do to go on one of their brilliant August runs and head into fall baseball with some momentum? Glad you asked…

Ship Julian Tavarez to …anywhere. Please, front office, guys, let’s call this like it is – a complete failure. He’s given up runs in 21 of his 45 appearances, has more hits than innings pitched, served up 8 homerun balls and hit 5 batters. Not to mention he’s as crazy as a shithouse rat. I’d rather have dinner with Hannibal Lecter than have this guy covering the plate when I’m trying to score.

Keep Big Papi on his Superhero diet. It has officially reached the point where it just isn’t fair to other teams that David Ortiz is around. All he did in July was hit 14 homeruns and 35 RBI – in just 25 games. And he has not cooled down in August, even laying down a bunt single against the shift. His Papiness should be a lock for the MVP, and be voted baseball’s ambassador. He should tour the country, screw it, the world, during the off season, speaking to kids everywhere about how the game should be played – all out and with a smile. The big man is the face of Major League Baseball.

Keep Foulke and Clement in the Secret Bunker. Yeah, I know. You thought they were injured and placed on the DL. Well file that thought in the folder with “Santa Claus is real” and “all priests are good people.” The truth is, Theo has relegated them to what the organization calls “Quadruple A.” It is a heavily-guarded underground facility; several stories deep in an abandoned Pennsylvania coal mine. It was originally designed back in the early eighties to keep guys like Wade Boggs away from the media when he went on his “I can turn myself invisible” kick. Foulke and Clement are there, catching up on the latest issues of People magazine and playing a little shuffleboard. Not talking, not pitching. Please don’t let them out.

Heal the Wounded: Mike Lowell. Tim Wakefield. Jason Varitek. We need you guys back. Like soon. Get Schill’s doctor to stitch them up. Get Mr. Miyagi to do his hand-clapping thing that fixed up Ralph Macchio’s knee. Just get these guys back. Who is going to hit doubles on command without Lowell at third? And Timmy, the knuckler must dance. We can’t keep running the likes of Snyder and Johnson out there to pitch. Jason, Oh Captain, my Captain. You haven’t been hitting in the good, old V-Tek groove, but we need you behind the plate. Guys named Huckaby and, God help us, Corky, they just don’t get it done. And Trot…well, we’re kinda warming up to Wily Mo. You just take your time, no rush.

Fans Want Candy. Eye candy, that is. Tina must go. Her giant mouth and East-German-swimmer-shoulders are just plain disturbing. We want Hazel Mae in tight shirts, breasts heaving as she interviews…anyone. Or Kelly the Ball Girl doing cheers on the roof of the dugout between innings. The front office and NESN program directors can only ignore my ideas for so long!

A Savior is Born: Jonathan Papelbon is the real thing. The Sox must protect this young man at all costs. Whenever he is not on the mound, his arm should be surrounded by an army of Ninja bodyguards. Better yet, Shaolin priests. Beautiful nurses-in-training should be massaging it with exotic hot oils. We need to know the game is over when the Sox lead in the ninth. Papelbon is that guarantee.

The Bloody Sock: If you think 2004 World Series, you think bloody sock. Well, the guy wearing the sock, Mr. Curt Schilling, still pitches for the Sox and with the same ballsiness he did in ’04. The rest of the team: pitchers and position players alike, need to get a little of his mojo working for them. Give the fans bloody socks to wave. Christ, they gave out friggin’ cow bells in Tampa! The players should wear bloody socks; don’t they know how historical his performance was? How gutsy? How sheer, badass cool? Strap on a little of that and the Sox are back in the playoffs.

Now I’m no GM, but these things seem pretty obvious and easy to accomplish. No big trade, no multi-million dollar free agent. Just a little common sense and creativity. And some sac. Keep the good guys; get rid of the dead wood. The rest will fall into place. I can tell you a couple of things from experience. Second place sucks. The wild card sucks. We want the division this year and home field throughout the playoffs. Let’s get it done.

For more ridiculousness and wild claims, visit www.survivinggrady.com.