I’m getting tired of writing these posts this year. We’ve lost a musician that I admired. We’ve lost a baseball player that I admired. Now we’ve lost an astronaut that I admired.
Neil Armstrong has passed away at the age of 82. The first man to walk on the moon has left us.
Rest in Peace Neil Armstrong.
Ding dong the Beckett’s gone!
Ding dong the Beckett’s gone!
Ding dong the Beckett’s gone!
I’ll write about it again later after it sinks in (and after the official announcement), but I just heard that WBZ TV has reported that it’s a done deal.
Ding dong the Beckett’s gone!
Ding dong the Beckett’s gone!
Ding dong the Beckett’s gone!
I’m trying to teach the cat to sing. She’s kind of a crappy student.
If this deal happens tomorrow it will change the opinion most of us have about Red Sox management that has developed over the last 12 months.
Underachieving problem child #1 (only because Lackey has been on the DL all year) Josh Beckett…
Grotesquely over paid, perpetually injured, monumental underachiever Carl Crawford…
Superstar in the making who also happens to be grossly overpaid while only underachieving a little now and then who also is developing a reputation as a locker room cry baby who also blamed last year’s collapse on god as if god lost 20 games in September, Adrian Gonzalez…
And Nick Punto… Nick Punto? Yes, three superstars and one sub-Mendoza line hitting Punto.
If the rumors are true they could all be members of the Los Angeles Dodgers by the end of the weekend.
Punto is irrelevant, baseballily speaking. I’m sure he’s a nice enough guy, but he doesn’t match the talent of the other guys.
Losing Gonzalez doesn’t make me happy although one more piece of text message related bullshit and I’ll hold the door for him on his way out.
Crawford over the first almost two years has looked like one of the worst free agent signings ever. We are talking Jack Clark bad. He played well in the short time he played this year, but yet another surgery threatens to keep him on the shelf beyond the start of next season. 20 million a year for this? Dump him.
Josh “chicken and beer” and “we only get 18 days off a year” and “pissed off at the press for asking if he’s hurt despite the fact that he’d gone to more than one doctor over a two day span” and “completely unable to win a freakin’ game anymore” Beckett. I think that when he’s on his game he’s still a great, great pitcher. Unfortunately he hasn’t been on his game for 12 months and it’s clear that he just doesn’t give a shit anymore. I can’t wait for him to go. I’ll help him pack. I’ll call the cab to take him out to Logan Airport.
Honestly, I don’t even care who L.A. Is offering to send us in return. I hope they are all high level prospects that we can build around, as well as using the something like 200 million dollars we would have paid to Beckett, Crawford, and Gonzalez to retool the roster with players who care about their jobs and want to win.
Like I said, I’d hesitate to dump Gonzalez, but otherwise I am hoping, hoping, hoping that this deal happens, even if it costs us AGon.
Come on Ben Cherington. Show us what you are made of. Get it done!
Lance Armstrong…
Wow.
He’s going to be stripped of his seven Tour de France titles today because he has stopped contesting performance enhancing drug allegations. He claims that he’s just tired of fighting the false charge. The U.S. Anti-Doping Agency and the World Anti-Doping Agency both regard the refusal to continue the fight as an admission of guilt.
So did he do it or not?
I honestly could not care less about cycling as a sport. I prefer to call it bicycling because I don’t want people to confuse it with the more obscure, but far more exciting, sports of unicycling and tricycling. Lance Armstrong though extends beyond just the bicycling world. Beating cancer while competing at your sport’s highest level will do that. Instant National Hero and what not. But… if you cheat, what then? Does cancer give you the right to cheat in order to actually level the playing field?
No, of course not. While he has not come out and admitted guilt, it’s hard to not think of this the way the USADA and WADA do. It’s hard not to see this as an admission of guilt. These allegations have been following him around for at least as long as I’ve known who he was. In the court of public opinion it’s hard to not side with the where-there’s-smoke-there’s-fire argument. At the same time, he’s innocent until proven guilty, and if he doesn’t challenge the charges, is he really proven guilty?
When I was a kid I was told that cheaters never win. I guess this is just a case of that axiom needing a little bit of time to catch up to someone formerly regarded as one of life’s winners.
Have you ever noticed how sometimes your subconscious mind can send little messages to your conscious mind? Sure you have. Let me give you an example.
Early this morning I was asleep. My subconscious mind was in the middle of its normal core dump function and I was dreaming. In the dream, the woman of my dreams (quite litteraly), my beautiful wife Jen, had just come home and surprised the kids and me by saying she had just purchased a swanky new car. I don’t know what type of car it was. Also, she came home to us, but it most certainly was not our house.
Jen said that the dealer was going to call us shortly to tell us to come and pick up our sweet new ride, so we did what all families do when they are about to leave the house. We lined up for the bathroom. One way that this dream house differed from our reality house was that the dream house had three bathrooms. For some reason, my dream self felt the need to do his business in all three bathrooms. Peculiar, one would say.
After the bathroom business was taken care of, Jen received an email from the dealer warning us that the parking lot was flooded and we would have to take a canoe from the office to the car. Following a brief WTF conversation, I went and used all three bathrooms again. At this point, I believe my conscious mind was starting to have a bit of a WTF moment of its own.
Finally the dealer called and said we could come and get the new wheels. When Jen hung up the phone, I went back to the bathroom.
All right, CUT! At that point my conscious mind finally got the hint. I woke up and went to the bathroom.
Message received!
So only four Red Sox players went to Johnny Pesky’s funeral. I can’t be too mad, I mean, I didn’t go either, right?
Four.
Turns out most of the team went to a Josh Beckett fundraiser later that night.
Is it any wonder why we all hate them so much?
Inside the Red Head's Head 