Farrell doing everything right

John Farrell knows pitchers. Ask any Sox pitcher who was here when Farrell was the Red Sox pitching coach, and they'll tell you how phenomenal he was at getting through to guys, and getting the best possible performances from them. Terry Francona often said that Farrell could easily make the transition from pitching coach to manager, and everything we've seen so far backs up that assertion.

Farrell was right to put Joel Hanrahan on the mound this afternoon - and just as right with his quick hook after two straight walks from the closer. Any pitcher can have a bad outing. I was at the game on Wednesday night, and conditions were certainly less than ideal, making it totally reasonable (if not desirable) that Hanrahan might have a mistep.

After that kind of meltdown it's important for the manager to display his confidence that the poor outing was an outlier, which is exactly what Farrell did. But at the end of the day, the job of the manager is to put the right combination of players on the field to win games. Hanrahan couldn't find the strike zone, and the Red Sox were on the verge of wasting an excellent start from Jon Lester, so Farrell acted decisively and pulled him in favor of Koji Uehara.

With the exception of Hanrahan, the Sox bullpen has performed exactly as hoped (I can't be the only one with a budding love for Uehara), and Farrell has managed it admirably. Today's win was a nailbiter (I never would have expected that I would come out of it winless in fantasy baseball, seeing as I started both Lester and David Price), but all wins count the same in the end. Far more valuable that a decisive victory is the knowledge that Farrell will continue to make the difficult - and correct - decisions.

Cleveland Indians Shake

I'm going to keep things short and sweet tonight. You all need to see this video of Cleveland Indians manager Terry Francona leading off a rendition of Harlem Shake. It will make you miss him even more.

How can you not love Dustin Pedroia?

On the plane yesterday, I finally got into Francona: The Red Sox Years (despite a gentleman behind me playing solitaire on his tablet at full volume for the duration of the flight). I haven't reached the end, but I certainly teared up during certain sections describing the 2004 playoff run, and then couldn't stop grinning like an idiot when Dustin Pedroia finally entered the stage.

I fully anticipated feeling emotional over an insiders view of the Pedey/Tito relationship - everyone knows that Pedey is my favorite player, and it's abundantly clear that Tito felt similarly (though I doubt Francona wanted to propose).

But who could blame us? Pedroia isn't just a dedicated and talented player, but plays with the exuberance and abandon of a child: he's excited to come to the field every day, and pouts if he's given a day off. He's totally pumped for the new things about the team, and is hoping that it will lead them back to winning.

A losing season isn't something he's used to - he told Pete Abraham of the Globe that it hasn't happened to him ever, not even Little League. Here's hoping that last season was just a passing blip on his lifetime win-loss record.

Reader's reluctance and Tito's new book

I got my copy of Francona: The Red Sox Years, right on time on its release date from Amazon.  It is currently sitting, unopened, on my bedside table.  I'm sure it will be well-written, as everything Dan Shaughnessy has a hand in writing has a certain style, and I'm sure it will be interesting, because Terry Francona's arrival in Boston coincided with a very exciting time in Red Sox history.

So why haven't I opened it yet? It's not because I'm in the middle of another book (surely a lackadaisical winter reread of Harry Potter can be put aside for a new release like this one), nor is it because I don't have the time - indeed, I have a shameful amount of free time lately.

No, my reluctance to dive into what is sure to be a page-turner has more to do with a halfhearted attempt at preserving my illusions. I know that there were players who were difficult, even during the magical 2004 and 2007 seasons (the sections on Manny Ramirez alone must be pretty hefty). But I'm not ready to lose my mental pedestals for players whose indiscretions might have flown under the radar of the fans - if, for instance, there's a passage about anyone that at all resembles the Roger Clemens anecdotes from Joe Torre's The Yankee Years, I might just lost it.

I've heard good things about the book, and I'm sure that once I manage to start it, I'll be through it in a matter of days.  I'm equally certain that the book will have me feeling some serious nostalgia for the good old days of the Pedey/Tito bromance.  Have any of you guys read the book? Am I being nervous for nothing? Let me know here in the comments, on Twitter, or on the Facebook page!

Now I will never get that image out of my head

When asked about the differences between being a starter and a reliever, Daniel Bard cited the pre-game routine. Relievers hang out and mess around, while each starter has his own ritual he'll follow every five days.

"Every guy has their own thing. [John] Lackey walks around with no pants on, bounces a baseball, eats peanut butter and jelly. Jon Lester got his headphones in, but he's still walking around, talking to guys. Curt Schilling was a guy that nobody could talk to 'til the last pitch was thrown. I just try to be me whatever that is."

The latter two I can live with - in fact, they are exactly what I imagined Lester and Schill doing before their starts. As for the revelation about Lackey? THAT was an image I NEVER needed in my head. So as my apology to all of you for putting it in YOUR head, here's a video of Philly Jonathan Papelbon impersonating Terry Francona:

I stand by Tito.

Of all the crap being spewed today, and all the blame being tossed around, the parts that most disgust me are those concerning the now former manger of the Red Sox, Terry Francona.  Yes, he has to expect that the dirty laundry of his divorce will be aired (just like pitcher John Lackey) in a market like Boston, and even that his family will get dragged into things - I mean, who wouldn't be concerned if they had a son and son-in-law stationed in Afghanistan.

No, the biggest disappointment is the allegation that Tito's use of prescription pain pills was abusive, that the skipper had a drug problem that hampered his ability to manage.  Obviously SOMETHING was hampering his managerial skills, but since we've all been intimately aware of Tito's myriad health problems for years, why is the medication a problem NOW?

When Tito was fined back in 2007 for wearing a pullover during a game instead of his team jersey, everyone was up in arms defending him.  The man has poor circulation and gets cold easily - you're really going to make a stink that he's wearing a team sanctioned sweatshirt instead of a restrictive jersey? It's not like he's on the field; I'm pretty sure the umpires don't need to see a jersey to know which team's manager he is.

Even longer ago, in 2005, Tito was taken to the hospital from Yankee Stadium with chest pains, so his history of illness, injury, and the legitimate need for medication has been established for more than half a decade.  We all knew he was taking pain medication. We have known this for YEARS. As Tito said, “It makes me angry that people say these things because I’ve busted my [butt] to be the best manager I can be. I wasn’t terribly successful this year, but I worked harder and spent more time at the ballpark this year than I ever did.’’

Granted, if I were living in a hotel, I might be at work more often, too, but the point is clear: if anything, Tito had more focus invested in the Sox this season.  Something went wrong, that much is obvious, and Tito has owned it, admitting he just wasn't getting through to the players as he once did: “The guys that weren’t down on the bench, I wanted them down on the bench,’’ Francona said last week on an appearance on WEEI, “I wanted them to support their teammates.’’

So maybe something was lost in translation - certainly lots of games were lost during this time.  But throwing around accusations of drug abuse when Francona's doctor assured him that wasn't the case? That's just low. Low, and like much of the news today, disappointing. 

Breaking up a family: The legendary bond of Pedey and Tito

SO. MUCH. LOVE.

 
If you read this blog even semi-regularly, you know that I am an unabashed and shameless fangirl of both Tito and Theo.  Was there more that the two of them could have done this season? How much of the blame lies in the hands of the manager who makes the on-field decisions? How much lies with the GM who built the team? And, perhaps most importantly, what portion should lie at the feet of the athletes on the field?

The tales spilling out now that the season has been brought to a violent and screeching halt are eye-opening, in a word.

A commenter on Boston.com this morning, referring to this piece.

Globe writer Dan Shaughnessy claims that the parting of Tito Francona and the Red Sox was anything but a mutual decision: " [John] Henry has had Francona in his crosshairs for a couple of years. Ultimately, Francona was not enough of a numbers guy to satisfy Boston’s Moneyball boss."  Francona tells a different story: he wasn't getting through to the players, the constant scrutiny of managing a baseball team that is so much more than that to so many people, he thought eight years was enough.

As usual with this particular corner of blogdom, I look at this travesty through the eyes of one Dustin Pedroia.  Pedey and Tito have a well-chronicled bond; they passed straight through legendary bromance to honorary father-son territory long ago.  They trade jokes about their receding hairlines, about Pedey's height, and Tito's age, they played (ah, the past tense) cribbage before every game, and by all accounts enjoyed a refreshingly honest and functional relationship.

So if I'm heartbroken over the skipper's departure, it stands to reason that Pedroia would feel even stronger, and he didn't disappoint: "I love him. He’s given me every opportunity in the world and given me the respect to play the game with a freedom, and that’s what he allows us players to do. Geez, man, he’s done everything for me and everything for my family ... he’s done everything for me in the five years I’ve been in the big leagues. My heart’s broken for him and I wish he was back and I wish I could have played my whole career for him. It’s going to be hard. I’m sure he’ll come back a better manager and a better person for it. Us, as an organization, we’re going to move forward together."

 

If that didn't make you tear up a bit, you have no heart (or you're not blinded by a a deep-seated love and admiration for everything that our second baseman does and says).  Pedey also threw in a couple of jabs about player responsibility, but if you want to read those you can go to the source.  This post exists for the sole purpose of mourning the now defunct dream team of Dustin Pedroia and Terry Francona.  I'll be drinking for them tonight.

Being a Red Sox fan is WORTH the heartache

We didn't deserve to make it.  As angry, depressed, disappointed, and bitter as I am right now (and it's toned down a lot since last night), I can see that.  The Red Sox mailed it in this September, and last night's debacle was nothing more than a microcosm of the last month.

They say you don't win pennants in April.  That might be true, but if nothing else, this season has taught us that you sure as hell can LOSE them in April.  If we didn't get swept by Cleveland (Cleveland!) the second series of 2011, we squeak into the playoffs last night - whether we could have done a damn thing one we were in? That's another story.

However, some of the reactionary stuff I was seeing on Twitter and Facebook last night was appalling, and - in many cases - downright foolish:

Let's start off with a tweet where the poster misspelled the closer's name, exposed his own misogyny, and blamed a player with a serious injury. I'm sorry, bro, but I know you personally, and there is no goddamned way you were playing through injuries like Salty's and Youk's. Despite the fact that Lackey has thus far been a HUGE disappointment for the money, he DID manage to win 12 games, and the suggestion to sign Prince Fielder is hardly going to help out our pitching.

Let's move on:

Gold. "Sell the team." To whom, I wonder? Are you going to buy it?  And it's not really like the owners can carry much of the blame here. Sure, if they had denied the money to sign a really important and obvious missing piece, but we all know that John Henry and Co. essentially have an open-wallet policy with Theo.  Perhaps that's where the blame should go?  But, don't forget we were all lauding Theo just eight months ago, and Sports Illustrated literally JUST ran a story extolling the virtues of his managerial technique (you might have to subscribe to SI to see it - sorry).

So this brings me to the most popular sentiment of the night:

You have got to be joking. Luckily, there sees to be just as many people on the interwebz who are violently disagreeing, and defending Tito.  I'm sure this conversation is of no surprise to Francona, after all, the double-edged sword of being a manager is that if the team wins, they were really talented, but if they lose, it's the manager's fault.  Could Tito have done more to light a fire underneath his team? Maybe. We will never know what he was doing in the clubhouse.  It is worth remembering that every single Red Sox is a grown-ass man, and therefore responsible for his own performance - Tito can only enhance.

And, to wrap up the evening, here's a status update that literally made me feel sick to my stomach:

Yes, that happened on my newsfeed last night. And FIVE PEOPLE "Liked" it.  Listen, I get the frustration, the thoughts that the team just doesn't work, that maybe starting over would be better - that it couldn't be worse. But these men are people. Just like you and me. They have families and lives outside of baseball. I don't care how much of a superfan you are, wishing for a plane crash just makes you a spectacularly shitty human being.

If anything, I hope this ending, this season, leaves us wiser as fans.  You don't win seasons in the offseason.  The playoffs are a special event, not a perennial birthright.  Sometimes you're on the losing end of epic chokefests.  All of these things kind of suck, and for fans like me, who didn't live through much of the storied franchise heartache (1999 and 2003, but before that was before my time), this is a stark reminder that we as Red Sox fans have lived a charmed existence.

But for me, it's worth it. I have seen two World Series Championships come to my team in my lifetime, and I believe I'll live to see many more.  Last night was crushing, painful, tear-inducing, because baseball and the Red Sox are my life.  But the feeling I got when I saw them win it in Colorado in 2007 and St. Louis in 2004 outweighs that heartache by an indescribable amount.  Being a dedicated (some might say obsessive) fan can fucking HURT sometimes - but when it feels good, it feels SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!

Why are we using the CLOSER with an ELEVEN-RUN LEAD?!?

Snappy title, I know, but I'm legitimately lost for words. Can someone please explain to me why the hell Terry Francona decided that he needed to use the CLOSER when the Red Sox were sitting on an ELEVEN-RUN LEAD?  He couldn't have waited to see if Matt Albers could finish the thing, and only made the call to Paps if he started giving it up big? After, I don't know, six runs or so?

I'm really trying to understand the logic here, because I'm always the person trying to tell people that there's a reason Francona is the manager and not Joe "WEEI Whiner Line" - and it's because Tito generally knows what he's doing.

But I'm seriously struggling to understand this.  I know that the save is one of the most useless and overrated statistics in the history of baseball, but this was nowhere near a save situation, or even approaching a "high leverage" situation where you would want your best reliever out there (whether Paps is the Sox's best reliever can be debated, but for the purposes of this post, we'll say he's one of them).

Yes, Albers gave up a run in the eighth, but it was hardly time to push the panic button. WE HAD AN ELEVEN-RUN LEAD. Statistically, you could have thrown a postition player out there on the mound, and you would still have had a damn good chance of winning the game (is Nick Green available? I believe his ERA is still at 0.00...).

What's the harm, you ask? We won the game, you say, so quit your whining. Yes. Yes we won the game. We passed the Yankees, who lost to the Athletics, to take sole position of first place in the AL East.  But what happens if we need Paps tomorrow? Not unlikely, since we'll still be playing the Rangers.  And then what if we need him against Oakland? What if we need him for the next three games? What if we need him for more than three outs?

I know, I know... "You don't save a pitcher for tomorrow. Tomorrow it may rain." - Leo Durocher.  But I also adhere to my own radical school of thought about situations like this: don't waste a pitcher today when you have an eleven-run lead, tomorrow Andrew Miller might get shelled. 

Okay, so Durocher's quote is slightly less specific and more poetic than mine, but I literally just do not understand why you would put Paps in the game tonight.  If any of you can shed some light on this for me, do tell (in the comments, via Facebook, etc.), because I'm literally baffled.

Terry Francona: Maverick

The current mid-week series in Philly is being billed by many of the talking heads in the sports business as a Fall Classic preview.  The Sox and the Phils are the toast of the bigs, despite the fact that Boston is a game and a half behind New York in the standings right now.

Tonight pitted Josh Beckett against Cliff Lee.  Though Cliff claimed the "W," I won't hold a grudge because I still worship the ground mound he walks on for spurning the advances of the Evil Empire during the offseason.  He's an honorary favorite for life, though that might change if we actually end up meeting him in October.

Despite the fact that I generally approve of Cliff Lee (and Philadelphia generally) I was very happy when Lee gacve up his first hit to the Red Sox, a single to Marco Scutaro in the sixth inning.  The only other Sox hit of the night was clubbed by Darnell McDonald, who doubled to lead off the top of the eighth inning.

We have John Lackey going for us tomorrow, and the big righty has been a bit of a mystery this season.  Personally, I'm inclined to cut him rather more slack than I normally would, because his wife Krista has been undergoing treatment for breast cancer, and I know how draining, distressing, and rattling it can be to watch a family member fight that battle.

Tito (a better maverick than John McCain ever was), has been hinting that he will combat the uncertainty of Lackey on the bump by putting David Ortiz in the lineup.  As all of you know, playing in Philly means Papi will have to play first base... thus sliding Adrian Gonzalez to right field. Yes, right field.

I could give you my perspective on this plan, but, as always, Dustin Pedroia's take is much more entertaining, so I'll leave it with this sentiment from my favorite second-baseman: "It'll be good offensively, but damn, I've gotta play second, first and right. That's a lot of ground to cover, man. I've got small legs."

Fear: A powerful motivator for Daisuke Matsuzaka

Who was that man last night (and the start before, for that matter), and what has he done with Daisuke Matsuzaka?  In all seriousness, over the last two starts, Matsuzaka has given up two hits, and no runs in fifteen innings.  It's especially impressive when you consider that his first two starts of 2011 saw him giving up ten runs in seven innings.

So what's the deal?  Well, we may finally be seeing the pitcher that we thought we were getting: the one who's been missing for three years except when he's wearing the Team Japan WBC uniform.  Matsuzaka has pitched brilliantly of late, mixing speeds and pitches, and attacking the strikezone - you know, all those things John Farrell and now Curt Young have been trying to get him to do all along.

Apparently, Daisuke Matsuzaka is totally aware that these last two starts have been probably the best he's had with the Red Sox, but the surprising (and vaguely infuriating) thing is that he remarked after Monday's game in Toronto that "he was motivated by the fear of losing his spot in the rotation." (via Boston.com's Extra Bases.)

So basically, until he thought he might lose his job (something Tito says was never a possibility), the Red Sox were never important enough to Daisuke to really buckle down and give it his all.  Personally, I always suspected that the Red Sox and MLB came in at a distant second on Matsuzaka's list of priorities, far lower than #1 Team Japan.  In a culture where personal and national honor is the most important thing in a person's life, this is unsurprising, but still disappointing.

It's clear that hoisting the WBC trophy for Japan, and then the WBC MVP trophy was a much bigger point in Daisuke's life than holding the World Series trophy in 2007.  Perhaps we should be proud to have this sort of player on the team: one to which honor for his country and himself means more than $50 million - a rarity in today's world. But it IS sad that only fear of losing his slot in the starting rotation could truly motivate Matsuzaka into pitching to the best of his ability, but I'll take whatever works, at this point.

As Terry Francona said, "If that’s the case I’ll go out and threaten him.”  If it would help, I'll be happy to do the same.

The Adventures of Josh 'n' Jon: Opening Day Starter Edition

In the least shocking news since the third reelection of FDR, Jon Lester has officially been named the Opening Day starter for the Boston Red Sox. As Manager Terry Francona said, after the first game, the rotation order is sort of a non-issue until the playoffs, but I'm sure it's nice for Lester to get that recognition.

In case you were concerned about 2009 and 2010 Opening Day starter Josh Beckett getting jealous, there's no need to fret; the big Texan is here to assure you that there are absolutely no hard feelings: "It's a really big honor and he should be proud of it. It's something he has earned."

How much of this is genuine, and how much is just for the press/team unity/warm fuzzies? It's difficult to say. Beckett has never been one to censor his feelings about his own performances, or even to hide his disdain when reporters ask him redundant questions. There's no doubt that he was extremely disappointed by his injury-marred 2010, and it's probably true that he believes Lester deserves it more this year.

However, that's not to say that the righthander isn't a little jealous, or even a bit bitter. Just a few years ago, Beckett was the young phenom who made fans excited with every pitch. He was a World Series Champion at a young age, just like Lester, with the added exhilaration of being a leader on a young and talented team, and then being a centerpiece of the trade that sent Hanley Ramirez to Florida.

Now, despite the shiny new contract extension Beckett inked last year, he's all but forgotten. All the press about Boston's rotation is the 1-2 punch of young guns Lester and Clay Buchholz, or the well-documented struggles of the enigmatic Daisuke Matsuzaka. I'm quite certain Josh is absolutely aching to be the big-game pitcher he was only a few years ago, with all the respect and accolades that comes with that.

I don't see this causing any discord in the clubhouse. For one, I really don't imagine Lester and Beckett to be the kinds of people who sit around and talk about their feelings - they strike me as more of the "act first, question later" types. Mostly, both pitchers (along with the rest of the staff) are too professional to let something like this affect their performance - but here's hoping Beckett uses it as motivation to return to the form he had just a few years back.

* * *

For those of you interested in my travels, I am currently in Dakar, Senegal. There's a lot of random MLB gear around here, and sadly, much of it says "NEW YORK" on it - and it's not usually the National League team, either. So far, I've seen jerseys and/or hats for the Yankees, Mets, Red Sox, Rangers, and Nationals (who knows?), as well as quite a few Celtics and Lakers jerseys. I'm having a great time so far, and trying to spread Red Sox Nation across the globe.

Five-Minute Musings

I have a few minutes before class this morning, and thought I would post a quick rundown of recent events:

1.) The Oakland Atheltics have reportedly made a five-year, $64 million dollar offer to Adrian Beltre. According to the Globe's Nick Cafardo (as reported by Pete Abraham), the Sox are willing to go up to four years, $52 million. In fantasy land, Agent Scott Boras is claiming that the third baseman is worth five-years, ninety million dollars. So what is Beltre worth to the Red Sox? And what is being in a competitive, passionate city worth to Beltre? Last year, he turned down bigger money from the A's to come to the spotlight in Boston, but he was also looking to be showcased so he could get a big deal this year. Players don't hire Boras because team loyalty means a lot to them, so this could be interesting as it unfolds. Stay tuned.

2.) Tom Werner is looking to appease fans who were under the impression that the 2010 Sox were based on spare parts so he could fund his little soccer venture in England. [Pretend for a second that statement isn't ludicrous, that the Sox didn't have the second highest payroll in MLB last year, and that they didn't sign the biggest pitching free agent in the '09-'10 offseason. Theo said BRIDGE YEAR, so they obviously weren't trying.] He has gone on record as claiming the Sox will make a significant splash in the free agent market: “I think that we are going to sign, I won’t promise, but we’re going to sign a significant free agent. We are going to make a trade to improve ourselves,” Werner said. “I want to assure everybody that there is no bridge year here this year. [In] 2011, we’re committed to win.”

3.) The Red Sox were just honored by Major League Baseball for their charitable endeavors as an organization. From a release by MLB, via the Boston Globe Extra Bases blog: "Major League Baseball and Baseball Commissioner Allan H. (Bud) Selig have named the Boston Red Sox as the inaugural recipients of the Commissioner's Award for Philanthropic Excellence, which was created to recognize the charitable and philanthropic efforts of an MLB Club." Obviously, the Red Sox encourage their players to both be active within the Red Sox Foundation, and to support their own charities, and it seems like that work is getting some recognition. The really cool part is that this comes just week after Sox knuckleballer Tim Wakefield received the Roberto Clemente Award. It makes this organization easy to support.

4.) Ron Gardenhire (Twins) was named the AL manager of the year yesterday (the Padres' Bud Black took home the honor for the senior circuit). I was holding out some hope for Tito, who placed fourth, and if the Sox could have scraped a playoff berth, I really think he would have made it. People around here are constantly screaming about "Fran-coma" and how terrible he is, and how they could do his job so much better. To those people I say: SHUT UP. Terry Francona led a bag of beleaguered major leaguers and spare minor league parts to 89 wins last season. Do you honestly think you would have done any better?

5.) I would like to point out that the offseason coverage by the team over at boston.com has been spectacular thus far. Of course, I have come to expect a certain degree of excellence from the Globe, but the amount of info that they're giving us on a daily basis is more than you could expect from any other team in any other market. In particular, I would like to extend a shout-out to Pete Abraham, who is constantly updating the Extra Bases blog, and also because he's a generally nice guy (last spring, I had to do a project on athletes as role models, and Pete Abe was nice enough to answer the email I sent him, asking for imput). So, thank you Mr. Abraham, and thank you to your fellow writers on the Sox beat: without you all, we'd be even more starved for baseball.

The 2010 Parade of Carnage

I wasn't happy after last night's joke of a game. However, neither did I feel the overpowering urge to scream and storm and throw things that a late-season loss to a divisional rival usually brings. When the last out was made, all I felt was a bitter sort of resignation - for all intents and purposes, this team was down and out long ago, and somehow they clung to hope far longer than they had any right to under the circumstances.

The Boston Red Sox are currently nine games behind the Yankees for the AL East title, and 7.5 behind the Rays in the Wild Card race. There are just 23 games left in the 2010 season, and 11 of those are against legitimate playoff contenders... Once, the Red Sox would have counted themselves among such fighters, but no longer. The 2010 Parade of Carnage dashed our collective playoff hopes long before we were ready to admit defeat. (And to be honest, I won't be ready to throw in the towel until the math says I have no choice.)

I could go through and list all of the injuries, player by player, but it's been done. Instead, I will SHOW how the injuries piled up, through screengrabs from some reputable Red Sox websites:

(via redsox.com; click to enlarge)

On July 11th, the Sox had a whopping eleven players on the disabled list (plus Junichi Tazawa, who was hurt in Spring Training). Since then, one has been traded (MDC, to the Rockies), one released (Jeremy Hermida), two are gone for the season (Pedroia and Ellsbury), six are back on the roster and producing some semblance of good baseball, and one (Josh Beckett) is stinking up the joint, despite his apparent "health."

(via boston.com's Extra Bases blog; click to enlarge)

On August 5th, we recieved word that Boston's most consistant hitter would be out for the season after a freak accident in the batter's box that would require him to undergo thumb surgery. At the time, few realized what a crushing blow this was, as several players were supposed to be on their way back, but Youk's absence has hurt us both on the scoreboard and in the field.

(via boston.com's Extra Bases blog; click to enlarge)

Within twenty minutes on August 18th, we were informed that two-thirds of our starting outfield would be AWOL until next Spring. Cameron's loss was somewhat glossed over because his stats left a lot to be desired this season, but keep in mind he was battling a severe sports hernia for much of the campaign, and never really got into a groove. Ellsbury, of course, is the type of dynamic player who really might have made a difference in some of this season's close games.

(via boston.com's Extra Bases blog; click to enlarge)

Then the most crushing blow of all: despite having returned for two games, Dustin Pedroia's foot was not healing, and so he would be lost for 2010. Besides being an excellent player, Pedey is the heart and soul of that clubhouse - the Sox couldn't be out of it until he SAID they were out of it... and Pedey doesn't admit defeat.

And so by today, the Sox DL looks like this:

(via redsox.com; click to enlarge)

Fewer players on the list, but none of them are walking through that door. Of the Opening Day Starters, four of nine are on that list. We've lost three Gold Glovers and the reigning stolen base champ; three All-Stars, and three former World Series winners. The worth of these four players absolutely cannot be overestimated.

If you look over the total missing players for the year, things get even more bleak: of the nine players on the field for the first pitch of 2010, six have spent at least 15 days on the disabled list. Shockingly, the only outfielder to stay healthy was JD Drew. Yes, JD Drew was the Boston outfield's version of Iron Man.

The ridiculous spate of injuries made writing the lineup card a daily adventure for Terry Francona...

(via baseball-reference.com; click to enlarge)

This is ridiculous. The Sox couldn't even be healthy enough to have seven games with the same lineup. SEVEN!

This team put up a hell of a fight - guys most of us had never heard of this time last year made real contributions, but in the end it doesn't seem to be enough. And for those of you ripping Theo for not getting reinforcements before the trade deadline, where was he supposed to get players of such pedigree? And most of them were supposed to come back; if they had in fact been healthy, where do you put the new additions?

No, you can't blame Theo, or Tito, or even the players. You can blame sheer dumb luck, and playing in a division with two of the best teams in baseball (and indisputably the one richest). Some of you are too young to remember that the Sox were not always perennial contenders (I'm on the cusp of that one), so let me remind you of the time-tested phrase of fanbases past: "Wait til next year."

Say it ain't so, Pedey!

I was away from Red Sox baseball for two days - two days! - and the worst possible thing has happened. I'm never taking a weekend out in the woods again, since the world has obviously been punishing me for my irreverence for the Sox schedule by taking my favorite player out of commission.

Dustin Pedroia fractured his left foot on Friday when he fouled a pitch off of himself, and he'll be out for possibly six weeks or more, though the team doesn't have a timetable yet.


Selfishly, this is a huge blow, as Pedroia is my all-time FAVORITE player to watch: the way he puts everything on the line, every play, accompanied by his good-as-gold postgame comments make him my can't-miss player.

Of all the injuries this season (Ellsbury, Cameron, Beckett, Hermida, and now Buchholz), Pedey's will hurt this team the most, as he's not only a Gold Glove caliber defender and MVP type hitter, but he's the heart and soul of that team.

Since the "idiots" of 2004 disbanded, many fans have complained that the team lacked personality, and Pedroia certainly supplied his fair share of that. He's the undisputed spark plug of the team, and was coming off a "laser show" performance Thursday with three homers when his reality shattered.

Now that's personality...

“I’m just going to try to be positive for all the guys,’’ Pedroia said. “They know how I play the game, and they know I’ll be in the dugout watching the game and trying to see things on the field to help us win. I don’t know. I’ve never really done this before, so it’s not real fun.’’

His manager and teammates are almost as dissappointed as Pedey himself:

“He means a lot," said Bill Hall (who will be starting in Pedroi'a stead), "To me, he’s our second captain. Obviously, [Jason Varitek’s] No. 1. Pedey with his emotion and how hard he plays and the big hits he gets, he means a lot to this team emotionally. We’re going to miss him a lot. If he’s in the dugout, I know he’s going to be rooting for us and giving us that same energy and we’re going to need that.’’

I would take that even further and suggest that Pedroia is the de facto captain. I know Varitek is the one who wears that "C" on his chest, but with a diminished role this season he isn't as visible as he once was, while Pedroia is out there every play, putting his body on the line, and running his infamous mouth in the clubhouse.

This could easily be the straw that breaks the camel's back - there's no replacing Dustin Pedroia:

Said Tito, “You can’t replace Pedey. That’s why he’s Pedey. But we’ll do what we always do — look at the lineup, see who’s pitching, and tell guys the night before who’s going to play.’’

Of course, Francona has performed admirably this season, mixing and matching his way to the third best record in the majors, but he's right about Pedroia. You can scoff all you want at the notion of "intangibles," but Pedey's got them in abundance, in addition to his resume loaded with very real and measurable accomplishments, and the Red Sox are going to miss him.

As for me? I miss him already. I'll continue watching the Sox no matter what, but it just won't be the same without Pedroia on the job every day. Here's hoping Pedey's recovery time is as quick as his wit, because I'm already having withdrawal.

[All quotes in this post are from the Boston Globe online.]

He's nothing like that OTHER 23...

I think he'll fit in just fine here in New England. Just the fact that he - a veteran player, no less - stopped to chat with the fans speaks volumes about his ability to embrace the environment in Boston.

Just from that short clip, it's easy to see that Mike Cameron has at least a basic grasp of the history of the franchise: I mean, he understood that #24 was "semi-retired," not just because of the petulant Manny Being Manny Ramirez, but because of the inimitable Dwight "Dewey" Evans, who played his last game in 1991.

He also appreciated Francona's quip about a certain shortstop that John Henry is still paying:


"Tito told me, 'Hey, if you wear twenty-three, make sure you don't miss the first ball, cause the fans are all gonna say LUUUU-GOOOOO!!!'"

Be honest, folks: that's totally something we would do. However, it doesn't look like it will be necessary, as Cameron seems like the type of confident (and competent), yet easy-going player who thrives in Boston. I know that the Ellsbury fangirls (and fanboys) are howling that Golden Boy is moving over to accommodate a thirty-seven year old journeyman. Please, let him show you what he can do. Personally, I plan on loving him, and I hope you'll all give him a chance, too.

Everything you own in a box to the left...

According to the Providence Journal, Jacoby Ellsbury has been relegated to playing left field for the near future. Mike Cameron has almost exclusively been manning center field for his entire fifteen-year career, and he's good at it.

As quick as Ellsbury is - and we've all seen that speed in action, ahem, Andy Pettitte -


Cameron is the better defender, at least according to metrics such as UZR and WAR. Though Ellsbury's quickness is undeniable, he tends to take a roundabout route to balls hit in his area, resulting in the inefficient use of his blazing speed.

Understandably, Golden Boy was a bit upset when Tito called to break the news:

"He was worried that it was a demotion, which it is not," explained Francona. "I kind of insured him of that. I just think we're tying to put guys where we think they can make the biggest impression. Cam was great, for a guy who is 37-years-old and played center field his whole life, he said, 'Hey, I'll play anywhere.' So it was just a decision based on what's best for our team." - projo.com

Ells has played left field as recently as 2008, when he was platooning with Coco Crisp (remember him?), and he performed very well. While Jacoby doesn't have a cannon for an arm, he's no Johnny Damon, either, so I don't see this arrangement becoming a problem, though it does leave Jeremy Hermida out in the cold.

Ellsbury is too young to play the scorned lover card and pout - the man's still making the league minimum - and I'm sure he's too proud for that, anyway. As things stand, I like the Red Sox outfield. A lot.

Nine Offseason Questions

I went out to dinner tonight, and, in a bar full of Red Sox memorabilia, watched the first innings of the Phillies/Rockies game (guess they got all the snow off Coors Field). It felt wrong, but I have to face the music: the Red Sox season is over. So what's a girl to do for three plus months until Spring Training? I don't even get the MLBNetwork at school, so I'll revert to my offseason basket case self: obsessively checking Sox sites and blogs, and rereading all of my baseball books. To kick off the offseason (tragically early), here are my top nine problems for Theo and the Sox this Hot Stove season.

1. Jason Bay: As everyone not in a coma knows, the Red Sox leftfielder is a free agent this offseason. He and his agents were unable to come to an agreement with the Sox during the season, but Bay seems like a reasonable guy who has enjoyed playing for a contender. Theo's not going to overpay, but I'd say something like four years, $60 million should get things done.

2. The revolving door at the shortstop position: It's no secret that shortstop has been a bit of a problem since about... ohhh... 2005? Now, most of the fans I've talked too support picking up Alex Gonzalez's $6 million option for next season, but Theo recently made comments on WEEI that insinuated he is less than impressed. Gonzo has hit very well with us, but above his usual production. I've heard rumors about Stephen Drew (JD's younger brother, currently with the Diamondbacks), who is just Theos type. Throughout his career, his strikeout numbers have consistently declined, while the walks have steadily increased. I would be okay with another Drew on the team.

3. What's going to happen behind the plate: It's no secret that Captain Varitek had a BRUTAL second half. We can only assume the team will decline to pick up his $5 million option, but Jason has a player option he can activate for $3 million. I for one hope Varitek sees the light, swallows his pride, and calls it a career: the Sox would do well to hire him as a coach, though he's said in the past that coaching doesn't interest him. Victor Martinez had an electric bat for the Red Sox down the stretch, but he's essentially a younger Varitek: good game calling skills, good repertoire with the pitching staff, quality bat for a backstop, but not so good at throwing out basestealers. VMart has a club option, and I'm guessing that Theo will pick it up, while poking around for other possibilities... Joe Mauer would be the definition of a long shot, but a girl can dream, right?

4. The aging meat of the lineup: David Ortiz will be thirty-four next season (if you're cynical, like me, you might speculate he's a bit older, like many Dominican players), while Mikey Lowell turns thirty-six in February. Mike's bat looked fine this season, but his range was severely diminished due to the labrum surgery he had last offseason; the rest he had down the stretch seemed to help, but he didn't like sitting. Papi managed to finish with almost respectable numbers, but looked positively anemic in the short ALDS. We need both of them at their best, or the lineup won't be nearly deep enough.

5. Who's manning the bench: Baldelli was signed to a one-year deal last year, and he's been less than dependable. Kotchman plays a steady first base, but if Lowell can't go every day we'll need someone really good to hold down first base while Youk slides to third. I trust Theo will find a gem somewhere.

6. The back of the rotation: Tim Wakefield is forty-three years old, with a balky back, and minor shoulder problems. While the shoulder issue is old news (Wake plans to have it surgically repaired after he retires), the back is more problematic. However, Tim isn't the type to come back if he doesn't feel he can contribute, but if he can get the back fixed, I'd say he's as good an option (for the first half, anyway) as anyone, and at $4 million, it's reasonable.

7. What's going on with the bullpen: Obviously, Paps picked a TERRIBLE time to have a meltdown, but he's still a premier closer. In the same game that Cinco Ocho besmirched his postseason ERA, Daniel Bard proved he could be cool under pressure: coming into a bases loaded situation with no outs in an elimination game, and giving up just one run (on a double play ball). If the Sox development machine thinks Bard is ready to be a closer, I wouldn't be shocked if Theo traded the bigmouthed Papelbon for a big bat (Prince Fielder is rumored to be available).

8. Daisuke's offseason regimen: Matsuzaka came into camp in terrible shape, and then there was that public disagreement with the Red Sox strengthening program. However, he seemed genuinely contrite when he got back from the Disabled List in September. I'd like to think he'll be more responsible this winter... otherwise, I say the Japanese WBC team can pay his salary.

9. Tito's health: This one went under the radar this season, but the manager is far from perfectly healthy. I have nothing but the highest esteem for the Red Sox manager, and I know he'll use the offseason to get himself rested and ready for next year... But how long is he going to hold out? Is John Farrell staying on in his job as pitching coach because he knows that Tito is planning to step down in the next few years? This is wild speculation, but you have to admit, it makes sense...

Monday One-Liners

First let me apologize for my extreme delinquency in posting for the entire month of August; I was dealing with some very serious family issues, and then had to immediately be ready to return to school. In short, I had some good reasons, but I'm sorry in any case.

Now, on to the post. Like many of you, I have a rather large collection of baseball books, and each of them has its own share of classic one-liners. Because I need some laughs (and who doesn't on a Monday?), here's a compilation of "greatest quotes" from certain of my books:


"Since Dan Shaughnessy is the guy who invented this curse nonsense in the first place, I find it kind of odd that he keeps talking about it. He's a bright guy. I can't believe he actually believes in it. I guess the Curse of the Bambino has a better ring to it than the Curse of Dan Shaughnessy." (Page 102).

I know this book as a whole is sort of crappy, but this line is too good to overlook... I mean, the Curse of Dan Shaughnessy? Gold. As a side note, I realized that only crazy Red Sox fans like myself would bother to learn to spell a name as difficult as Shaughnessy when he's not even a player. Yastrzemski was one thing, but really...





"Every time I go someplace where the people have never met me before, they all tell me the same thing: I look fatter on TV... I always joke with them: 'Who do you think I am, Kevin Millar?' (Trust me, bro. Millar would say the same thing about me.)"

This just captures the carefree AWESOME of the magical 2004 team. Shots before the game? Fine. Calling a teammate fat in a national bestseller? Whatever. Honestly, Millar would undoubtedly say the same, and he has.







"'I began to think about the pinstripes?' The allure of the tradition?' 'Set my legacy?' Who spoke like that? You could have polished the entire fleet of New York City cabs for a year with all that polish."

And we all know about Clemens and the liniment, so I'll spare you that particular mental image once again, but I just can't resist a good shot at A*Rod's dignity.









"I kept teasing him [Pedroia]: 'They told me you were a second-rounder. I didn't know they drafted short, fat people that early. If I knew that, I would have just not grown and eat a lot of cheeseburgers.'" Also about Pedey: "Simmer down, Napoleon."

That one needs no explanation: this next one, however, means a lot to me on a personal level.

"Surviving cancer is, and will always be, my toughest battle. I laugh when people talk about how tough it is to deal with the boos of the fans or the high expectations of big market baseball. Hah! You want to know what tough is. John Kruk knows. Andres Galarraga knows. And Jon Lester has come to find out. When cancer comes calling, baseball takes a backseat. Having forty thousand people at Yankee Stadium tell me I suck is a nice diversion."


"What happened in player meetings, was supposed to stay in player meetings - sort of like the first rule of Fight Club."

Now, this book was not especially informative, or even well-written, and I definitely don't recommend buying it, but that line just made me picture a drunken Josh Beckett brandishing his fist in the face of someone like Josh Reddick, while the rookie pees his pants and the rest of the veterans look intimidating in the background. Red Sox Fight Club? Sign me up!







"Forget about A-Rod. We've got Mike Lowell in the house."

While that quote was attributed to the much maligned Manny Ramirez, its sentiment rings true. when it comes to championships, character, team spirit, resemblance to George Clooney,or just general awesomeness, Mikey wins. Every single time.





"Once, Francona was so frustrated with Ramirez that he told Ortiz, 'I'm going to kill him.' Ortiz listened and told the manager that he'd check on Ramirez. After a while, Ortiz returned with a smile and a statement: 'It's all right for you to kill him now.'"

Oh, the days of Manny and Papi... It's like good cop/bad cop. Don't get me wrong, I don't miss Manny (especially the way he's been hitting lately), but those were some good times.








"I came up next. And put a line drive over the Monster. With that bomb, I was only 742 home runs behind Barry Bonds on the all-time list."

"I always wanted to be a miniature badass."

Only Dustin Pedroia can deliver these two gems without a trace of irony. If you haven't read his book, do it now. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200, just read it.







I'll try to be better about posting, and if I'm being honest with myself, it's likely that this blog will come before homework (a girl's got to have her priorities - this is a pennant race!).

Quote(s) of the Day

Both of these gems are from the same man. The first is referring to the size of the visitors' clubhouse at the new Yankee Stadium, but could also easily be describing the speaker's tribulations at the plate thus far:

"I got lost."

Notice that was in the past tense, because, due to a two-double, two walk performance last night, David Ortiz looks to be moving past his slump.  Only time will tell, but in the meantime, we can take comfort in the fact that Manager Terry Francona is all but too loyal to his veteran players.  Said Oritz of his skipper's handling of the situation: 

"I don't see Terry as my coach anymore.  I see him as my dad.  He's been so great to me that every time he talks, I'm nothing but ears."

That might be the cutest quote I have ever heard from a Sox player.  Also, I can't help picturing Tito teaching Ortiz to ride a bike, or giving him advice on girls, or any number of fatherly endeavors (hilarious mental pictures).  Well, if Oritz is going to hit like he did last night, he can call Brad Mills his uncle, John Farrell his cousin, and Kevin Youkilis his sister for all I care.

"Yeah, I like to think of Pedey as the family pet... like a dog or something..."