Category Archives: Red Sox

With Crawford down, Red Sox sign European sensation Liverpo ol-RomaAS to patrol outfield

Facing the prospect of entering Opening Day with an outfield that features Jacoby Ellsbury as the team’s only viable Major League starter, the Boston Red Sox are close to finalizing a contract with Italo-English stud Liverpo ol-RomaAS (liv – er – poe, ohl – roam – AHHs), sources confirmed Thursday.

The seemingly ageless ol-RomaAS is largely considered a five-tool star with speed, power, sure hands and superior footwork.

Carl Crawford is in pain, but the Red Sox moved quickly to insure against any lack of athletes on the field at Fenway Park this summer.

His skills are expected to translate immediately within a ballpark such as Fenway.

The push to acquire qualified entertainment to man the Red Sox outfield took on a fevery pitch earlier this week after news broke that Carl Crawford’s wrist surgery could jeopardize his early season availability.

Surprisingly, the signing was not completed by Red Sox GM Ben Cherington but rather by Fenway Sports Management. However, the team’s owners are confident that its involvement in baseball operations was justified in this instance.

“During my years as a scout overseas, I’ve witnessed firsthand Liverpo’s expert command of pitches,” said a marketing guru for the organization. “ol-RomaAS is a budding star and Red Sox fanatics are surely going to fall in love. Let’s be honest: They’ll fall in love if we tell them to…”

This under-the-radar Hot Stove activity comes during a week when many Red Sox fans are preoccupied with the New England Patriots playoff run.

Says one analyst: “The Red Sox were clearly laying in the weeds and just waiting, giggling as the Yankees pulled off two significant moves in signing Hiroki Kuroda and trading for Michael Pineda. Everybody thought the last dying embers of the hot stove season were burning out, but the Red Sox just prodded that fire with a freaking poker.”

Meanwhile, ol-RomaAS’s blood lines can be traced back to primarily Caucasian roots. He is therefore considered a near shoo-in to become a fan favorite and a regular in promotional television spots for Sullivan Tire.

One club source confirms that, “Internally, the team feels like he is going to be a major attraction and obviously signing international sensations and plugging them into this ballpark is a money-making formula that is good for everybody involved. It just made too much sense.”

Thoughts on Boston magazine’s “Red Sox Confidential”

Boston magazine has something for you to read in your local dentist’s office while you’re waiting for that root canal. The long and short of it is that former Boston Globe reporter Doug Bailey wants you to know he worked for the Red Sox for a while:

From the winter of 2001 until the end of 2007, I was a flack for the Sox. In my capacity as senior vice president at Rasky Baerlein, I consulted with the team’s owners about their public relations and strategic communications. For a New England kid, six seasons of reporting to Fenway Park each morning kept me in a constant state of exhilaration. I was the envy of colleagues and family members. I had a badge that gave me total access to Fenway Park at any time. I was present at nearly every major Sox milestone in the first six years of the new millennium — including two World Series. I was on a first-name basis with the top executives and sometimes rubbed elbows with players.

Some thoughts after reading the story:

This is predictable narcissism at its very height. This is autoerotica thinly veiled as autobiography further disguised as expose. The piece is bookended by anecdotes involving Bailey and his career plight as journalist-turned-PR man, including a finish that strives to make Red Sox fanboys cream into their MLB-licensed pajama pants. The centerpiece photo is a gigantic portrait of Bailey himself in the foreground and the true subjects of interest–Larry Lucchino’s PR machine, the extraordinarily successful Red Sox, etc.–in the distant background.

The attempted potshot at Nomar was brutally pathetic. Even by Boston media standards, a second-hand account of an awkward exchange eights years ago between a professional baseball player and a NASA astronaut isn’t nearly as offensive as Bailey would like to think. It hardly qualifies as worthy tangential fodder for a story that aims to shit on the current Boston Red Sox ownership. Nomar Garciaparra, by the way, is retired and last played for the Red Sox more than seven years ago.

The Inside Track ladies are ripping the piece for poor ethics. Wow, that is rich. Former colleagues are pissed at Bailey for exposing them as scumbags. Gossip columnists are quoting industry insiders and shaking their head at the presumed breach of confidentiality. The sun will rise. The sun will set. Gayle Fee and Laura Raposa will have lunch.

The Boston Red Sox ownership group is reaping what it has sown. John Henry, Tom Werner, Larry Lucchiono, et al, climbed the ladder to the top of the popularity food chain as rapidly as a girl who gets breast implants as her Sweet 16 present or, say, a woman who catches the eye of a billionaire at a trendy cocktail bar. They’ve crafted themselves one hell of a hero’s narrative. As par for that course, every former flack, hack, lackey, leech and intern feels owed his or her share of the attention. The irony is that for every ticketholder who may be at Fenway Park this summer because the Red Sox have a Midas Touch when it comes to marketing the team, there are 100 fans who follow the team and pay for tickets because they are entertained and inspired by the players running around on that green spray-painted grass. There is no chicken versus the egg debate to be had here. Boston loved its baseball long before media decided to reminds us of it every damned chance they get. The fact that a former team consultant now believes himself to be part of the story isn’t terribly surprising.

The Red Sox have been at the same address for 100 years. Thank you, Mr. Henry. Thank you, Mr. Lucchino. Thank you, we guess, hard-working PR men. You all have a hand in the ongoing successes.

Now, shut the fuck up for a little while won’t you?

Clay Buchholz’s Love Doctor Mailbag: Parting gifts from Mr. Jeter and other pressing matters

All-star pitcher, devoted husband of model Lindsay Clubine, loving father and, lest we never forget, former ladies’ man Clay Buchholz took some time to chat with Fenway Pastoral readers.

(From MomPhoto.com - seriously.)

Clay,
After his one-night stands, Derek Jeter sends broads on their way by sticking them in a chauffeured car with autographed memorabilia as a parting gift. Back when you were playing the field, did you give out any signature keepsakes?

– Terry from Wilmington, Mass.

Things were a bit different back when I was a bachelor in the late 2000s. The economy was flailing and I hadn’t signed my multi-million dollar contract extension yet. The ladies simply had to settle for a mind-blowing night with a professional ballplayer. That used to be enough back in the day. Any broad who would choose a stupid baseball autographed by a future Hall of Famer instead of a send-off breakfast of homemade chocolate chip banana waffles wasn’t worth my time or attention. I don’t know, though. Jetes is quite a bit older than me and everyone in baseball knows that guys in their late 30s tend to show some age-related decline in performance. Maybe these autographed baseballs are some sort of consolation prize for their potential disappointment…

Clay,
Some new bar called Sweet Caroline’s is going to open right near Fenway Park. The problem is it’s just another run-of-the-mill sports bar looking to capitalize on Red Sox game day foot traffic. How frustrating is it for you to work in a town that features bars with names like Lolita, Forum, Felt and Underbar — none of which are strip clubs?

– Joseph from Randolph

Yeah, Joe, it’s not a good situation. I gave the whole thing some serious thought before signing that extension in April. Analysts are always doing calculations about how much free agents can save by signing with teams in income tax-free states like Florida. But, honestly, by playing in a priggish city like Boston for the last five years I’ve probably offset those savings by three or four hundred large. I’m just guessing, but it would probably be pretty difficult to drop a significant chunk of change at some knockoff watering hole named after a bad Neil Diamond song.

Clay,
How much of your $1 million signing bonus from the Red Sox did you request be paid out in single dollar bills?

– Michelle from Uxbridge

See above, Michelle. I’ve left those days behind. Okay, fine. Five hundred thousand, but I still have a couple stacks left…

Clay,
Major League Baseball recently sent a memo out regarding some tightening to the dress code for media members at the ballpark. With specific new regulations on skirt lengths, some are calling out the league for sexism as it is clearly aimed at female bombshell “journalists” like Ines Sains and, although she’s gone now, reporters like former NESN icon Heidi Watney. This is clearly a step in the wrong direction for a league with as many antiquated rules as MLB, right?

– Jonathan from Wellesley

You’re absolutely right, Jon. I’ve always been a proponent of dames being able to express themselves through their choice of clothing or occasional lack thereof. We need to let these broads make some decisions for themselves. What is this, the 1920s? Anyway. Forget about Kelly Shoppach. I’m pretty sure these new “guidelines” are the real reason behind Jason Varitek’s likely retirement.

Thanks for the questions, you guys. Happy Holidays.

Archives: Clay Buchholz’s Love Doctor Mailbag: August Stretch Run Edition

Sources say Red Sox close to signing Mystery Guy to multi-year, multi-million-dollar deal

Drop everything. The Red Sox are opening up their checkbook, front office insiders confirmed Tuesday night.

The Red Sox have made an unofficial official offer to a Mystery Guy, say sources who likewise shan’t be named.

Readers may or may not be acquainted with this Mystery Guy, who played for another team last year.

In the photo above, new Sox GM Ben Cherington talks to the media about something completely unrelated to the Mystery Guy.

A growing number of insiders believe the Mystery Guy is going to be coming to Boston to play for the Red Sox–as long as he doesn’t sign with several other teams also reported to be in the running for the services of this Mystery Guy. Those teams include, but may not be limited to, the Arizona Diamondbacks, Atlanta Braves, Baltimore Orioles, Chicago White Sox, Chicago Cubs, Colorado Rockies, Cincinnati Reds, Houston Astros, Miami Marlins, New York Yankees, New York Mets, Texas Rangers, San Francisco Giants, Seattle Mariners and Denver Broncos.

The talking heads on television and the radio are sure going to have hours of material if the Mystery Player signs a multi-million dollar contract with the Boston Red Sox.

Scouts have already applauded the potential move as a winner.

“Obviously the Mystery Guy has a name cache that speaks for itself,” said one talent observer. “It’s not even worth going into the particulars. We can all agree that the Red Sox will be a better team with the Mystery Guy on it…as long as it’s for that specific number of years and specific amount of money that is being intermittently reported as fact and as idle speculation.”

Indeed, the number of years and money is always an important factor in any Hot Stove signing. The Winter Meetings are an ideal time for general managers to discuss the particulars of contracts with players’ agents. Presumably, Cherington has had extended conversations with the agent representing the Mystery Guy. Surely, the Mystery Guy wouldn’t be rumored to be coming to the team if that were not the case.

Red Sox fans are already sounding off on the merits and shortcomings of the Mystery Guy.

“Mystery Guy is exactly the kind of player this team needs right now,” said Bert Smith as he strolled through Kenmore Square Tuesday evening.

“I’m not so sure,” said Smith’s friend, Edward. “I can’t think of the names of the Other Guys right now, but Mystery Guy wouldn’t be my first choice. Oh well. Is there any chance that all these reports are just complete and utter bullshit?”

Manager hunt done, John Henry begins trolling Boston bar scene in search of next Heidi Watney

Who says Red Sox owner John Henry isn’t active enough in his team’s affairs?

Several club sources have confirmed that Henry recently took the reins in Fenway Sports Group-owned NESN’s search for a successor to the infinitely popular Heidi Watney, who confirmed last month that she’s moving back to California.

John Henry's eyes are trained on Larry Lucchino. But his mind is ... elsewhere ... (Courtesy of Providence Journal).

“The Red Sox front office has heard all the grumblings from fans that Mr. Henry is diverting too much attention to other business endeavors, such as the soccer team in Liverpool. But that’s simply not the case. John’s instrumental role in the search for new on-field talent for NESN is a perfect example,” said a NESN spokesperson.

While Boston Sports Media Watch ventured a respectable list of possible Watney replacements on Monday, Henry’s tireless pursuit of talent seems to suggest that the potential slate of candidates is quite a bit meatier than just names already known within the television industry.

The affable team owner may have employed a “hands-off” approach to the lengthy search for a new manager, which was reportedly close to completion as of Tuesday morning. However, it would seem that Henry believes he may find a diamond-in-the-rough or at least a girl-next-door who could be molded into on-air talent if afforded with the right opportunity.

And, yes, Henry knows a thing or two about finding broads at watering holes. He met his current wife, Linda Pizzuti, at a bar in the Liberty Hotel and famously won her heart by writing her an endearing letter. Pizzuti is believed to be all-in on Henry’s search for a Fenway star as long as it does not interfere with his exploitation of corn futures.

For their part, fans also seem to be responding positively to the news that their beloved owner is taking such an active interest in the team’s lengthy offseason chore list. In particular, female bar goers in the Boston area seem to welcome the added scrutiny.

“He’s kind of creepy when you first notice him lurking in the corner,” said Worcester product Laura Taylor at M Bar in the Mandarin Hotel during a recent night in which Henry was spotted. “But, yeah, it would be fun to be on television. I may have unbuttoned a couple of buttons once I noticed him in the corner sipping on a dry martini.”

As fans may recall, former Sox GM Theo Epstein once ate Thanksgiving dinner with Curt Schilling’s family. So this isn’t the first time the Red Sox have used the “wine-and/or-dine” tactic to assemble a team. However, it is presumably the first time the team has employed the technique to acquire non-roster talent.

Said one club official: “We can say for certain that this is the first time in this ownership group’s tenure that we’re expressly angling toward a home-grown product.”

Confirmed another team source: “Tina Cervasio and Heidi Watney were carpetbaggers who predictably split town after a few years. We think signing someone local will give us the long-term stability we’re lacking in that part of the organization.”

And, really, what better way to find local talent than to plumb the city’s bustling night clubs and lounges?

Some scouts, however, remain skeptical that the Red Sox will be able to merely plug in a cheap, relatively unknown replacement into such a prominent role as Watney’s.

“Who do they think they’re kidding? On-field interviews and features on ballpark cuisine are high-leverage, pressure-packed situations,” said one long-time scout. “That type of spot requires a certain level of raw talent that simply doesn’t grow on trees. You’re better off paying for a known commodity with the experience and the know-how.”

Nevertheless, the Sox owner is reportedly undeterred. But aspiring on-field journalists beware: John Henry may be able to see you, but you may not be able to see John Henry.

“A lot of it is being done under the cloak of clever disguise…” said one Henry assistant requesting anonymity. “Believe it or not, there are some women out there who get gussied up and show up at ritzy bars simply to meet rich men who can make them feel financially secure. John needs to know that whoever replaces Watney is indeed sincere about the important things – like getting Kevin Youkilis to speak to her after a walkoff, bases-loaded beaning.”

Clubhouse sources would not comment on anyone else’s involvement in the vetting process beyond Henry.

But Sox fans seem to feel strongly that multiple front offices executives would only serve to gum up an already tall task.

“Larry Lucchino better not be holding up the process with whatever weird fetishes he happens to have,” said Nathan Prince after swearing he spied Henry during a recent night at the bar at Bond in the Langham Hotel.

“I mean, let’s be honest. It’s six in one; half a dozen in the other. I trust Mr. Henry’s judgement on this,” said a Sox fan last night at Lolita Tequila Bar. “As long as the new girl can post a lineup on Twitter and stay out of Jarrod Saltalamacchia’s pants, I think Sox fans will be happy.”

Jarrod Saltalamacchia declined comment for this story.

Boston Globe suspends Nick Cafardo indefinitely for reporting on actual baseball news in St. Louis

Fenway Pastoral has learned from unnamed (definitely not made-up or in any way questionable) sources stationed deep in the bowels of Morrissey Boulevard that Boston Globe Red Sox beat reporter Nick Cafardo has been suspended indefinitely for traveling to St. Louis to report on the 2011 World Series.

Courtesy of NESN.com

Cafardo’s bold recap of Game 1, which the Cardinals won 3-2 over the Texas Rangers, was filed late last night by Cafardo and published in error in the sports section of this morning’s Boston Globe.

The paper’s sports page editor, Joe Sullivan, released the following statement this afternoon: “We are aware that many of our treasured readers were rudely treated to a baseball story this morning that neither piled onto the orgy of news surrounding the collapse of the 2011 Boston Red Sox nor aided the ongoing effort to expose members of the aforementioned team as sloppy, poultry-obsessed alcoholics. For that, we are all deeply sorry.”

Sullivan went on to explain in an internal memo to staff members that Cafardo’s presumptuous “inverted pyramid” style of journalism flies in the face of everything the Globe aims to accomplish in its daily quest to churn out sensationalistic drivel cleverly packaged as hard local news.

Subscribers will be given a special pass code that can be redeemed on the paper’s website for access to five free articles (the Globe’s site transitioned to a paid content system earlier this month).

Boston Globe Smear Job Outtakes: Picked up pieces from Larry Lucchino’s office floor

Every master manipulator knows that successful spin control is a matter of quantity over quality. Not surprisingly, quite a few details were left out of the Boston Globe’s “Inside the Collapse” expose on the 2011 season.

They may have captured our hearts for months and won games at a dizzying pace for two-thirds of the season. But, seriously, these guys were absolutely incorrigible…

To wit, many story ideas that were work-shopped in those lush, think tank executive suites on Yawkey Way wound up on the cutting room floor, deemed far too perverse for public consumption—even amidst a full-fledged smear campaign:

After pounding grape soda with Jed Lowrie, D'Angelo Ortiz tries to crack a smile out of clubhouse recluse Jacoby Ellsbury (REUTERS).

Jed Lowrie: “I shared a can of grape soda with Big Papi’s little kid, D’Angelo, back in August…By the time batting practice rolled around, we were both too jittery to take any swings. My god, what a day.”

Jose Iglesias: “I’ve never seen The Cosby Show and, thus, have no direct knowledge of its impact on pop culture or the modern-day sitcom format. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Who’s Tom Werner?”

Scott Atchison: “I’m actually a 55-year-old man…”

Drew Sutton: “I gave Globe beat reporter Peter Abraham a pair of $300 headphones that I found sitting in my locker one day. I assumed they belonged to him because he never shuts up about the songs he listens to on his portable music player device.”

Alfredo Aceves: “I took showers in the clubhouse before and after games. Water conservation is for hippies.”

Jarrod Saltalamacchia: “That’s nothing. I specifically request double plastic bags when I buy stuff at the grocery store.”

Josh Reddick: “I told a couple reporters that I thought J.D. Drew was one of the most caring, hardest working veteran players on the team.”

Darnell McDonald: “I sat through an entire episode of NESN Daily…with the sound ON.”

Daniel Bard: “I got suckered into that Jordan’s Furniture Monster Hit promotion. You try staring at the same sign for four hours every night…”

Matt Albers: “I kept a stack of comic books out in the bullpen for those longer nights when every other reliever had already entered the game. Francona used to always tell me he was ‘saving’ me in case the game went 20-plus innings…None of our games ever went 20-plus innings.”

Lars Anderson: “I could lead you to 10 dead bodies buried in a storage shed near the Mexican border right now if I felt like it. Oh yeah, I also stole some canisters of Double Bubble out of the Fenway clubhouse for my own personal use.”

NOTE: The preceding anecdotes were provided to Fenway Pastoral by a nameless, faceless man who stands to profit monetarily by their legitimacy. Naturally, we scrambled to shed light on these facts as soon as possible. Our work here is clearly done.  

If 2011 Red Sox starting pitchers were alcoholic beverages…

John Lackey – Guinness: Heavy, overrated and a seemingly much more viable option in mid-March than on the Fourth of July.

Josh Beckett – Budweiser Select: Your run-of-the-mill Clydesdale-esque, chest-beating America-red-white-and-blue stalwart who has captured the minds of us New Englanders and our undeniable Puritan roots. If Puritans drank, they would have appreciated this as a high-end lager capable of delivering an entire region to the Promised Land (again). Or at least it’s pretty to think so.

Jon Lester – Dogfish Head 90-Minute IPA: An aggressive, acquired taste deserving of its accolades that alternates between being either delightfully intense or unwelcome and bitter, depending on the circumstances. Don’t hang with this brew all nine innings unless you want to wake up with a sore upper body and significant memory loss.

Clay Buchholz – Jeremiah Weed: One of those non-beer concoctions aimed at teenagers who want to hang around friends who drink beer without feeling like an outcast. But, yeah, it gets people drunk and any style points are in the eye of the beholder.

Tim Wakefield – Pabst Blue Ribbon: Sometimes the quality of a beer is transcended by a deference to the past that lets the drinker overlook otherwise important attributes like ‘taste.’ A bar commands a certain respect by merely having Pabst on tap and available for purchase during those (hopefully) rare moments when the time is right.

Andrew Miller – Miller Chill: It works in that backwards kind of way. Like when big fat guys are nicknamed ‘Tiny’ or  ‘Slim.’ Plus, Bud Light Lime is probably more up Kyle Weiland’s alley.

Daisuke Matsuzaka – Olde English 800: You bought it in a moment of weakness because you figured you could use the attention. Now, as your buddies stand there snickering, all you can do is look at it and wonder what in the world you were thinking. Yet even after all that apprehension, you might as well drink it down until the bottom fifth gets warm. No one will think less of you if you just pour that last little bit out on the ground. It’s finished. Maybe buy something a little more practical next time?

Erik Bedard – Merlot: Talk about a headache not worth having…

Fenway Pastoral would have done the same exercise for relievers. But frankly, finding any humor in their situation right now would feel like a few shots of Somerville-produced vodka just rolling around in a weakened, compromised stomach that is just waiting for that pivotal, highly-public moment in which to evacuate its contents.

Diehard Red Sox fans forced to pay attention to baseball games before October

Local sports fans who assumed they could stop paying attention to baseball for a few weeks were understandably perturbed last weekend after the Devil Rays swept the Red Sox in Tampa, thus drawing hazardously close to Boston in the standings.

“That was an intense series between two of the best teams in baseball,” said Frank from Haverhill. “The games were filled with emotion, drama, the prospect of failure, questionable moves by the managers…I hated it. I can’t believe we have to go through the whole thing again this weekend.”

“I mean, really? When was the last time the Red Sox were playing meaningful games in September? Like, 20 years ago?” asked Tom from Chicopee. “I was hoping for a few weeks off before the start of the postseason.”

“It’s basically like the playoffs came a few weeks early. I was supposed to go to my sister’s wedding this weekend, but now I’m going to have to get stupid drunk with my friends and watch these games against the Devil Rays instead,” said Jon from Weymouth. “This is too important.”

Sally from Shrewsbury: “My coworker was asking me if I’d seen some game against the Blue Jays this week. The Blue Jays?!?! This isn’t how I expected to spend the month of September. I’d rather be following the paths of potential hurricanes and complaining about the fact that summer is over. Eventually, I just told the guy I had a little bit of diarrhea and walked away.”

Spending his last available sick day of the year to watch Wednesday’s matinee against Toronto, Michael from North Quincy employed a little sarcasm to help ease the sting of having to show up at Fenway Park on such a picture-perfect, sun-splashed afternoon. “Oh, yeah, not being able to call in hungover until 2012 was totally worth it to watch John Lackey throw those trademark dogshit sliders to the Blue Jays. I’m not bitter at all.”

With even just a couple of wins this weekend during their four-game series against Tampa at Fenway, the Red Sox would ease some of the pain of the last couple weeks. However, some fans say the damage is already done.

“The Sox play four more games against that team (the Devil Rays) this weekend?” Eric from Saugus replied. “That’s just ridiculous. I’m sick of how long us diehard fans have to wait for the real season to begin. Jeter sucks A-Rod!! Let’s go!”

“Usually, I have some extra time to do nice things like recycle and volunteer at inner-city youth recreation centers during those few weeks after Labor Day,” said Mary from Wellesley. “But I’m a little bit concerned about Daniel Bard’s arm slot right now, okay? Maybe next year…”

Sources: Tim Wakefield no longer plans to thank God when he wins No. 200

Is Tim Wakefield the victim of some sort of divine act of statistical balancing?

While largely an arbitrary and meaningless statistic, knuckleballer Tim Wakefield’s career wins total is evidently garnering a fair amount of attention from the heavens.

Speaking on condition of anonymity, Red Sox clubhouse insiders confirmed Monday that Wakefield no longer plans to publicly tip his cap to the heavens upon winning his 200th major league game because the 45-year-old is thoroughly convinced The Man Upstairs clearly has lost interest in further assisting him in his journey to accumulate a gaudy, round number of wins.

After his fifth failed attempt at 200 in Kansas City, Wakefield could be heard in the visiting team’s clubhouse muttering under his breath, “This is bullshit. This is bullshit…” over and over.

“I think this is probably His way of punishing Tim for his past wizardry. Those fluttering pitches can really take some ungodly dips and turns. Wake’s stuff really hasn’t looked any different over the last month, but clearly there is a higher power at work, especially when the bullpen comes in to try and polish off the game,” said one scout.

Wake’s next shot at 200 comes on Friday night at Fenway Park against the Oakland Athletics.

“Clearly, Tim’s on his own on this one,” observed another scout. “Really, though, who can blame Him? The guy’s a freaking sorcerer when that pitch is working.”

Indeed, Wake’s been defying the odds for years, going against what was ostensibly His Plan for Tim’s career to peter out as an outfielder in the Pittsburgh Pirates minor league system in the early 1990s. By developing the pitch, Wakefield followed the path of guys such as The Niekro Brothers and Charlie Hough–perfectly innocent former major leaguers who just so happen to have names that sound like they could have moonlighted as brutal serial killers.

A local historian: “If olde-tymey Puritans still lived in New England, they’d be Yankees fans…No way they’d root for a team with Tim on it. The initial settlers of Massachusetts were firm believers in long work days, fear of a higher power and violent pitching motions that put extreme stress on the shoulder and elbow. To them, the knuckleball would have been akin to sleeping for more than three hours each night. And, of course, the fact that a speedy man of Native American descent in center field tracks down many of the well-struck baseballs thrown by Wakefield would not have aided the pitcher’s cause if our forefathers had any say.”

Indeed, it appears that God has clearly enjoyed toying with Wakefield over his last five starts—even going as far as allowing him to take a no-hitter into the fourth inning in his last start at Fenway Park on August 3 against Cleveland. The first Indians hit was a 400-foot home run that landed in the visitor’s bullpen.

“Wake is just sick of it,” said one observer. “The mental anguish, the constant questions from reporters – he’s tired of it all.”

Still, some theologians believe the saga accentuates some important issues in the ongoing debate between the doctrines associated with intelligent design and Darwinism.

“This certainly gets down to the crux of the matter,” said one professor. “I would point out that Wakefield does have 177 career losses…So perhaps there is an equally strong argument that some mystic entity still has a say in where the knucklers flutter, so to speak. Maybe there is some sort of universal regression to the mean occurring right now. Or, maybe, we just need to come up with a better way to express the value of starting pitchers…”