Category Archives: Red Sox

Jon Lester’s thoughts on pizza with Hanley Ramirez say absolutely nothing (unless you are an idea-starved Boston Herald sports columnist)

Here’s hoping the financially strapped Boston Herald pays Steve Buckley by the word rather than by the magnitude of his idiocy.

After last night’s All-Star game, a reporter attempted to extract a throwaway quote from Jon Lester regarding his days in the minors with former Sox farmhand-turned-superstar Hanley Ramirez. As Buckley puts it, “If, by some miracle…had they perhaps gone out for pizza one night and talked about someday playing in the All-Star Game…”

Lester’s response: “I’d have a better chance of being struck by lightning than me and him getting a pizza together,” he said. “You can take that for what it’s worth. But there was no chance on God’s green earth that I was getting a pizza with him.”

Translation: OK, then. Clearly, the two weren’t buddies. They played a few seasons together in Portland and Augusta, but perhaps had little in common other than the uniform they wore at the ballpark every day.

Time to investigate other possible story angles.

Unless you’re Steve Buckley. If you’re an old Boston sports columnist, this is a good time to write about how guys like Lester are “throwbacks” in the Bob Gibson mold because, in Ramirez, the Sox ace “saw somebody with whom he’d never step out for a pizza. And there’s absolutely nothing unusual about that. What is unusual is that Lester would say so.”

Is it really unusual? Maybe some enterprising reporter ought to take a survey of who is eating pizza with whom. What if guys are lying about who they eat pizza with? Would the Players Association agree to some sort of testing procedure to find out?

This is an embarrassingly stupid premise for a column. At best, it is a lame, backwards attempt to point out that Jon Lester is having a pretty good season. People already know this. At worst, this is the type of silly anecdote that twists an innocuous answer to a lame question and trivializes the hard work put into perfecting the cut fastball.

About the only saving grace for this “column” is that is wasn’t written by Gerry Callahan. Because everybody already knows that only white guys eat pizza and care about winning.

The Youker Files: 4th of July Fireworks Safety Tips

Written exclusively for Fenway Pastoral by Red Sox first baseman/third baseman Kevin Youkilis

Setting off fireworks is a part of Americana that I’ve always truly enjoyed. The anticipation of a lit fuse, the loud explosions, the high-pitched whistle of a fiery projectile shooting into the evening air en route to illuminating the sky with smokey color. I take a childish delight in the whole scene.

We were lucky enough to have this past Memorial Day off this year–the Monday breaking up our homestand against the Royals and Athletics. So I figured I’d take advantage of this blessing from the scheduling Gods and have a barbecue at my home in a nearby Boston suburb.

Honestly, what BBQ is complete without fireworks? To honor our veterans, I decided to have a buddy go up north to the New Hampshire border and purchase a very large amount of explosives to set off in my backyard once dusk rolled in.

I’ve gotta say, the idea seemed pretty flawless at the time. But I did learn some valuable lessons about the proper usage of fireworks that I hope everyone will keep in mind this weekend as we celebrate the Independence Day of our great nation.

Rule 1: Stay back
I guess we can all learn something from Dustin Pedroia, who got his own foot a bit too close to his own Laser Show for his own good out in San Francisco. In all seriousness, once a firework is lit in your vicinity, get out of the way immediately. Fuses require differing lengths of time to burn through and just because your M-80 doesn’t fire out of its launch pad immediately doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to get a closer look to see what’s going on.

Rule 2: Watch your aim
Don’t point your fireworks at other people. Don’t point your fireworks at other houses. Don’t point your fireworks in any direction which might have flammable substances or wooded areas. This might seem like a no-brainer to most people. But I’ve actually been hit in the head by several ill-fated bottle rockets. Those things can come at you quicker than any line drive down the third base line and they can leave more permanent marks than just a baseball-sized bruise.

Rule 3: Wear protective armor
I know, I know. You probably think you’ll look ridiculous wearing a helmet, safety goggles and a non-combustible jumpsuit, but just pretend you’re stepping into the batter’s box against Joba Chamberlain after he’s been drinking heavily. Do you really want to risk a fast-moving projectile speeding at your head so quickly that you only have a split-second to react?

Rule 4: Be patient
I haven’t always exhibited the same amount of patience in my fireworks escapades as I usually do during at-bats. I like buying a lot of different types of fireworks, loading my mortar up with several explosives and setting them off at the same time. But the risks of haywire aren’t always worth the reward. Rather than trying to impress your barbecue guests by lighting 10 projectiles at the same time, set off your M-80s and Roman candles one after another and just enjoy the experience. It’s pretty embarrassing when all your friends leave your house early because you thought it would be cool to try to light your whole arsenal with a blowtorch.

Well, I hope these safety tips are helpful. An amateur fireworks show can be one of the most absolutely awesome forms of entertainment, but unlike baseball, injuries can only be avoided by using common sense. Stay safe on the Fourth, everybody.

Clay Buchholz’s Love Doctor Mailbag: Red Hot Summer Edition

Red Sox pitcher Clay Buchholz is on a roll thus far in 2010. He’s 10-4 with a sub-3.00 ERA and appears to be putting together an All-Star-caliber season. Using his instinctive guile, Clay is tearing through batting orders the same way he used to plow through women before marrying model Lindsay Clubine last fall. Even amidst preparations for the birth of his firstborn child, Buchholz found some time to impart some of his pimping wisdom to his faithful fans at Fenway Pastoral.


Clay, what’s the deal with NESN Sportsdesk anchor Jade McCarthy’s mole located above her top lip? At times, I’m able to rationalize it as a Cindy Crawford-esque beauty mark, but just as often it just seems like a regrettably-placed distraction. Help?

– Andrew from Plymouth

I’m not a big fan of facial blemishes, Andrew. Whenever I turn on NESN and Jade and Her Mole are on the screen, I imagine that she is wearing one of those sexy silver stud rings some girls have pierced onto their faces. Usually, when you see a chick who has a weird piercing like that on her lip or nose or (obviously) her tongue, it means she’s gonna be pretty wild when you get down to rolling around in the hay with her.

Clay, you managed to impregnate your wife within a couple months or so of marriage. But Sox owner John Henry was married to his wife/muse for nearly a year before he was able to slip one past the goalie. What gives?

– Lynn from Chatham

Well, Lynn, I can’t say for sure, but it’s probably all the energy drinks and protein shakes. Also, there are certain positions that I like my partner to be able to contort herself into that are more conducive to getting a broad pregnant. Honestly, Mr. Henry is kinda old, so I hope he didn’t try any of my moves.


Clay, I’m 17 years old and pretty new to the … “dating” scene. Whenever I’m in the throes of the moment in the bedroom, I find it useful to think about baseball when delaying arrival at the finish line. This method must not work for you since you’re probably always thinking baseball all the time anyway, right?

– Brett from Lexington

Brett, I spend six-plus months in a major league locker room. I see a lot of dudes parading around in towels on a daily basis and they’re not all svelte guys in their primes. I’ve got plenty of ammunition to slow down the clock if I really need it. But in all honesty, dude, why are you trying to delay the inevitable? You’re young. Relax and let the game come to you. You can’t move onto the next batter until you’ve gotten the one at the plate out. Also, throwing a few side sessions in the “bullpen” in between starts might help a young player like yourself find the proper rhythm.

What, exactly, did Jason Varitek get himself into with Heidi Watney? The guy romances her a few times and the next thing he knows, the chick is scurrying over to him every time she needs a player to toss her a bone with some throwaway quote on camera.
– Jeff from Manchester

All I can say about that situation is I feel bad for poor ‘Tek. Generally speaking, a man should always make it clear to a female from the get-go whether he sees her as a full-time starter or just a situational reliever.

Clay, I was at a gentleman’s club in Austin last week getting a lap dance when I noticed that the woman taking care of me had a small tattoo of the New York Yankees logo just to the left of her landing strip. I, uh, immediately wilted like A-Rod in October and actually cut the dance short before the end of the 20 minutes I’d paid for. What’s the etiquette in that situation? I already paid for about twice the amount of time she was with me, but she seemed peeved I didn’t give her a tip on top of my wasted up-front fee.

– Gerald from Bangor

You did the right thing cutting the dance short, Gerald. But really, it sounds like your laziness lead to some buyer’s remorse. You should always make sure you get a good overview of the lady offering you a private dance before shelling out any dough. Next time, have the dame do a few twirls in front of you to get a better idea what you’re getting into. It’s OK to say no and if any other strippers are around, they’ll appreciate your discerning tastes.

Click here to read the Valentine’s Day edition of the Love Doctor Mailbag

Click here to read last October’s edition of the Love Doctor Mailbag

Scu-Scu-Scutaro Fever Invades Greater Boston Area

Chances are, at this very moment somewhere in the Boston area, someone is practicing his or her Scu-Scu-Scutaro flex pose a la Patrick Bateman.

A business man, noticing his reflection in a train window as his Red Line T heads underground, risks tearing the stitching on his designer suit to do a flex-and-point—all the while holding his briefcase and folded copy of the Wall Street Journal. A seemingly timid intern steps into the ladies’ restroom of a Cambridge-based research laboratory to flex her pose in the mirror after MLB’s Gamecast indicates that the Red Sox shortstop has drawn a base-on-balls, igniting a key rally. A Boston Police officer reroutes traffic down a dead-end street because he refuses to change the positioning of his right arm, which points at his reflection in a building’s facade as he thrusts his hips to and fro while blowing his whistle erratically.

Boston’s slick-fielding, sure-handed, at-bat-extending, fundamentally sound shortstop’s popularity continues to skyrocket as quick as the team’s place in the standings.

Last week’s release of the Scu-Scu-Scutaro video on YouTube has the city awash in fans humming the parody, set to the tune of the 1985 Phil Collins hit “Sussudio.” The original song, which has been a staple on generic easy listening stations for more than two decades, has invaded the subconscious of Red Sox Nation.

“Sussudio” served as the soundtrack to Patrick Bateman’s psycho-sexual, nocturnal blood lust in the movie American Psycho. Similarly, “Scu-Scu-Scutaro” has quickly become a fitting ode to a player who murders the opposition’s pitching staff with his pesky hits, plate discipline and sure hands in the field.

Of course, there are some unintended consequences that have sprung up as a result of Scu-Scu-Scutaro Fever.

For example, a six-inning Little League game this past weekend in Belmont lasted well over four hours due to the mounting number of 11-year-olds who have begun emulating Scutaro’s selectivity at the plate.

“Back when Nomar was king around here in the late ‘90s, I coached a game that only took an hour and fifteen minutes because everyone wanted to swing at the first pitch,” said longtime coach Ed Stevens. “But I’ve never seen anything like this…These kids are doing the flex-and-point and high-fiving each other when one of their teammates foul chops a bouncer into the dugout to keep an at-bat alive.”

Stevens echoes the concerns of many youth baseball coaches in the area who have observed similar obsessions with the Scu-Scu-Scutaro way.

“I’m in a tough spot because I know I should be rewarding these kids for their plate discipline,” reasons the coach. “But I feel a little silly paying for a kid’s Mr. Misty at Dairy Queen just because he made another kid throw him seven pitches in one at-bat.”

Five insanely stupid things that Tony Massarotti managed to work into one (online) column

Now that the embers are dying down in the media’s “David Ortiz vs. Mike Lowell” saga, Tony Massarotti is a bit strapped for true controversy. When that happens, there’s only one thing a Boston columnist and radio show host can do. Conjure another one up.

1. “Has Jacoby now become to the Sox what “Medical” Bill Cartwright once was to the New York Knicks? Is it Ellsbury – or DLsbury?”

Tony is off and running. Completely random cross-sport reference? Check. Lame attempt at nicknaming the player in question? Check. Implication that a certain player doesn’t want it bad enough to play hurt? I think we got a controversy brewing…

2. “Last year, during a rock-solid season in which Ellsbury batted .301, stole 70 bases, and played in 153 games, manager Terry Francona spoke of how Ellsbury was beginning to understand the “responsibility” of playing in the major leagues, which was a nice way of saying that Ellsbury had an obligation to his manager and teammates to play through minor issues and be in the lineup.”

Well, Tony. You’ve attributed one word (“responsibility”) to the Sox manager and then proceeded to explain, in your own words, what Terry Francona was actually saying about his outfielder. Want to know how many times Francona used the word “responsibility” when discussing Red Sox players last season? Over 900 times. Yeah, we made that number up. Just like you made up a read-between-the-lines explanation of a beyond-obscure quotation that Terry Francona may or may not have ever said.

3. “At the moment, nobody should dispute that Ellsbury is in some level of discomfort. The greater question concerns if and when he can play through it. Ellsbury already has said that he expects to deal with the problem all year – an alibi if he plays poorly, no doubt – and it is worth noting that he is 1 for 14 since coming off the disabled list.”

No, it’s not worth noting 14 at-bats. Tony learned nothing from the trials of Ortiz earlier this season in which the media waited even less than 14 at-bats (eight to be exact), before declaring something was wrong with Big Papi. Ellsbury did make a nice diving catch in center field last weekend in Philadelphia. But one catch is merely anecdotal. Fourteen at-bats, though? That’s plenty enough data to employ when trying to make a flawed argument.

4. “Ellsbury, of course, is merely 26. While it is always dangerous to wonder whether players are capable of playing through injuries – the Red Sox would be wise to remember the cases of both Scott Williamson and Matt Clement – the issue here is clearly much bigger. In the minds of the Sox – and others – Ellsbury has a reputation, something only he can be responsible for.”

Well, something for which only Ellsbury or any other jackass looking to fill out space in an online column can be responsible. Don’t end sentences with the word “for,” Tony. It makes you sound like you don’t really care about your readers. It hurts our feelings and makes us wonder if you’re really cut out to be a part-time writer.

5. “Earlier this month, Mike Lowell openly wondered whether he still had a role on the Red Sox, but at least Lowell’s remarks were motivated by the desire to play, something that hardly makes him different from the majority of athletes.

In Ellsbury’s case, the problem seems to be the opposite.

Does he want to play or doesn’t he?”

Back when Tony was trying to intimate that Ellsbury’s 2009 may have been an aberration in terms of playing time (153 games), he conveniently neglected to mention that Jacoby also played in 145 the year before, an up-and-down 2008 that was also his first full season in the majors. In 2007, he logged 528 plate appearances over 104 games in Triple AAA and in September as a member of the Red Sox. At the risk of sounding like some “pink hat in Camp Jacoby,” as Tony would say, it certainly seems like a guy who doesn’t want to play wouldn’t have, you know, played so much over the last three seasons. One could probably safely assume that had Ellsbury not collided with Adrian Beltre on a fluky play in Kansas City, he would again be on track for 600-plus plate appearances, a benchmark he reached in both of his first two full seasons in the major leagues.

Whatever Jacoby’s reputation may have been back in 2005 or 2006 is completely irrelevant now. People change and so do their reputations. For example, five years ago, some people may have accused Tony Massarotti of being a respectable writer who covered the Boston Red Sox. Opinions and outlooks can change.

Don’t bother advance-booking your flight out of Boston on Sunday, Joe West

Eat a big brunch on Sunday morning, pal. You should probably take a big dump just prior to game time, too. You’re gonna be on the field at Fenway Park for quite a bit longer than three hours.

Isn’t that cute…You’re trying to soften your well-publicized gripes about the Red Sox and Yankees “embarrassing” the game with their slow, deliberate play. The real embarrassment is that somebody (you) employed by a money-making enterprise (Major League Baseball) could possibly complain about the two components of the business (Boston and New York) that generate the most revenue for this said enterprise, thus facilitating paychecks for its employees (including you, Joe).

The damage is done and now the Sox have a golden opportunity to stick it up your craw, if it can be found amongst your many chins.

See who’s starting for the Kansas City Royals on Sunday afternoon? Gil Meche. He walks over six guys per nine innings (6.29 BB/9)—worst in the Major League. He allows, on average, about two base-runners per inning (1.85 WHIP). He has been damn near the definition of terrible all year. In his first start of the season, in fact, the Red Sox managed three walks against him in just 3.1 innings.

And Pyro Gil gets the ball in Fenway Park on get-away day of what promises to be an orgy of runs for the Red Sox this weekend.

The Red Sox lineup is clicking on all cylinders right now, Joe. They have been having their way with some of the league’s best pitchers over the last week. Working counts, drawing walks and driving guys in with timely base hits.

Guys like Dustin Pedroia haven’t hidden how miffed they were by your ignorant, misplaced criticism. So, really, what incentive in the world will they have to swing at all? Ol’ Pyro Gil has already proven he can’t throw strikes to save his life this season. Let’s see how many strikes you can get away with calling while MLB undoubtedly scrutinizes your crew’s performance this weekend.

The Sox are going to drag Sunday’s game out for as long as possible. Forget about hitters getting the green light on 3-0 counts, Joe. This is one game where the Red Sox owe it to you to prolong every at-bat. Bill Hall doesn’t even plan to take a bat with him to the plate. Kevin Youkilis is going to send about 50 fans home with souvenir foul balls. Marco Scutaro’s tennis elbow is going to make it mysteriously easy to fight off 3-2 pitches with weak grounders into the KC dugout. J.D. Drew? Well, he isn’t going to change a damn thing about his approach at the plate.

If all else fails, the Sox can pull their scheduled starter, Jon Lester, after six innings and put in Jonathan Van Every for a couple innings of long relief.

Anyway, enjoy Daisuke Matsuzaka’s start tonight. You should be in bed by about 2 a.m.

Lingering Concerns After 47 Games

About 29% of the season is over, which means it is time to start asking some tough questions.

Are we still pretending Heidi Watney missed the first four weeks of the season with a concussion? Lies were told and no one seems all too anxious to flesh out the truth. The whole concussion story never made much sense and people were crying BS from the get-go. Watney isn’t an NFL quarterback. Even if she was, she wouldn’t have missed four weeks of the season with a head injury sustained in some kickboxing class at the local gym. NESN could have cut most of the speculation/dick jokes off at the root by just explaining what exactly, you know, concussed her. All they had to do was make up some story. Instead, they gave an alibi that was intriguing enough to make us want to know more.

When will it be enjoyable to cheer for John Lackey? He looks like Sloth from The Goonies, he is inexplicably married to a hot blond woman and his fastball consistently sits at an underwhelming 90-91 MPH. He doesn’t seem like a bad guy, but sometime over the next year or two, he’ll need a J.D. Drew 2007 ALCS grand slam moment™ to defibrillate his big-contract status on the team. In reality, that moment can’t happen before autumn. Until then, Lackey’s starts are the anti-Pedro starts: can-miss games in which fans can feel free to turn on the game around the sixth or seventh inning as Manny Delcarmen warms in the pen.

Does anyone actually read articles like Peter Abraham’s effort in Wednesday’s Boston Globe headlined Rays refuse to hit panic button? Apparently, when beat writers aren’t trying to dig up quotes from the Red Sox about whether the season is over in May, they try to incite Boston’s opponents to admit bleakness. Perhaps this approach is some backward notion of impartiality. Rather than reporting on a non-story, maybe these reporters should work on writing apologies for attempting to portray the season as a lost cause before the team finished a quarter of its schedule.

Is Joe Nelson going to bother explaining his choice for Fenway entry music, Miley Cyrus’ “Party in the USA”? Is it a joke? Payoff for a lost bet? Ritual hazing? Was Daisuke Matsuzaka upset he didn’t think of it first? Talk, Joe. Fans deserve to know.

Scouts: Papelbon Is Tipping His Pitches

Several major league scouts confided in Fenway Pastoral earlier this week that Red Sox reliever Jon Papelbon’s struggles this season are due to his tipping pitches during key moments of games.

Three respected industry scouts were consistent in identifying the problems:

–       When Papelbon purses his lips into what looks like a puckered swollen anus, he plans to throw his 91-MPH fastball with little or no movement.

–       When Papelbon rolls his eyes up into the tops of their sockets and tilts the bill of his cap downward to glare at the hitter? That’s prelude to his 92-MPH fastball with little or no movement.

–       When Papelbon takes a deep breath, squints his eyes, puckers his lips and takes a sip of a Dunkin’ Donuts Dark Roast iced coffee, hitters brace themselves for his 93-MPH fastball with little or no movement.

No consensus has been reached as to when the pitch tipping may have begun, but two of the three scouts providing the information for this story believe the practice started sometime last season. The numbers seem to back up the claims as Papelbon’s K/9 rate in 2010 (6.75) is well below his career average (10.22). Meanwhile, swing-and-miss rates against Papelbon have steadily fallen since his epic 2007 season in which batters whiffed at nearly 18% of his offerings.

“Hitters are swinging and missing at only 11% of his pitches this year,” explained one scout. “Hitters see him balloon-knotting his mouth before his windup and know they can just tee off.”

MLB Should Consider Eliminating Pitcher Position By Placing Baseballs on Tees

The pitchers have become too good. The hitters have become too patient—all too willing to strike out or take walks in pursuit of the perfect home run pitch. Meanwhile, the fast-paced athleticism required in football continues to present a formidable challenge to baseball’s distinction as the national pastime.

It is high time baseball hit back, so to speak. It is time to increase the action and make the game manlier and more entertaining to a wider range of fans.

It is time to let hitters hit off tees and eliminate the effeminate motions of modern pitchers’ deliveries.

Sports Illustrated’s Tom Verducci danced around the solution in a recent essay:

“…we are missing an essential part of the game’s allure and romance: the crack of the bat. You hear it less and less in today’s game. Hitting and pitching have evolved in ways that mean the baseball is put into play less frequently than ever before.”

Sure, the league could legislate that young players must be instructed to be less selective at the plate, thus eliminating what Verducci calls the modern hitter’s maddening “passive/aggressive pursuit” during “a game of attrition.”

Basically, today’s ballplayers are a bunch of contact lens-wearing dandies overly concerned with exercising plate discipline, making pitchers tired and winning a bunch of baseball games.

Verducci points to Red Sox hitters as some of the worst offenders of Mark Bellhorn’s disease:

Some teams, such as the particularly influential Yankees and Red Sox, are especially patient. The Red Sox, for instance, in April chose not to swing at 41 percent of pitches that actually were in the strike zone.

Pitchers could be forbidden from throwing the Devil’s fastballs otherwise known as the “cutter,” a pitch that some of Verducci’s sources (the Yankees hitting coach) have blamed for the decrease in balls put in play and thus the pleasing crack-of-the-bat sound in ballparks. However, the rule would be difficult to police due to the large room for interpretation and potential grip modifications that could be employed to get around any newly implemented rules.

A tee is really the only way to make the game more interesting while also keeping it fair. On top of all that, cumbersome statistics such as pitch counts and pitch F/X data would be a thing of the past.

For their part, players asked about the debate in the clubhouse prior to Tuesday night’s game at Fenway Park were skeptical.

“I’d stare at it for a few minutes to see if it fell off the tee, but I guess eventually I’d swing at a baseball if it were set on a tee,” said Marco Scutaro, who was 13th in the American League in pitches per plate appearance in 2009 (4.07).

“Other guys on this team might be a bit more stubborn, though. Do you really think J.D. Drew or Kevin Youkilis would swing at a ball just because it happened to be placed on a tee in front of him? Those dudes are so stubborn I bet they wouldn’t swing the bat for a month just on general principle.”

Bringing ‘Dirty Water’ Back into the City of Boston

Depending on who you ask, it was either one disaster or one catastrophe after another for Bostonians over the weekend. A ruptured metal collar caused a large breach in the pipe system that supplies the city with its drinking water. Meanwhile, the Red Sox put the finishing touches on allowing a disastrous sweep at the hands of the Baltimore Orioles.

All this happened while two million residents adhered to “boil water” orders and a hellishly cruel halt on sales of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee—a quality of life issue that is the baseball equivalent of being forced to cheer for the Kansas City Royals.

Some parallels of Beantown’s double-headed crisis:

Adrian Gonzalez and bottled water: The people clamoring for Theo Epstein to mortgage the club’s future in a panic trade for Adrian Gonzalez are the same morons overbuying cases of Poland Springs water as they brace for an impending apocalypse in which—horror of horrors—they may be forced to boil drinking water for a couple of days. Meanwhile, taking into account the current makeup of the major league roster and the bulk of future talent in the minor leagues, at least half the clubs in major league baseball would gladly trade positions with the Red Sox. Overreactions to one month of mediocrity are as embarrassing as the bomb-shelter mindset of many Greater Boston residents over the last two days.  The people in underdeveloped third world countries without running water would drink Chestnut Hill Reservoir’s so-called pond water as though it were the nectar of the Gods. They would nurse those cartoonish 45-ounce bottles of Fiji water like it was 50-year-old Scotch.

Yankees fans and rat bastards living in Cambridge: These people always find some way to be obnoxious. While residents in the Back Bay drink tinny-tasting water out of spaghetti pots, those Fresh Pond-drinking liberals across the Charles smugly hydrate themselves worry-free as though it were some sort of birthright. They aren’t getting any of the bottled water that Boston hoarded if the same thing happens to them this summer. Similarly, let’s see how good the Yankees look when injuries start assaulting their old, brittle starting lineup later this summer.

Darnell McDonald and bleach: Sprinkling a few drops of bleach into the water sanitizes it just enough to make it usable for washing dishes or dirty hands. Psychologically, it’s about as desirable as starting a 31-year-old journeyman in center-field, but it will do the trick in the short term. A few months from now, if the Red Sox right the ship, we’ll be able to laugh and say “remember when Darnell McDonald was getting big hits in high leverage situations and we had to boil our drinking water?

Advocates of Daisuke Matsuzaka and people who drink tap water: Tap water drinkers who thumb their noses at people who “waste” money on bottled water should stick to their guns and ignore all those signs warning against drinking from the faucet. There’s only something like 3-5% more fecal matter and bacteria in the backup supply compared to the normal levels in Quabbin’s main pool. Similarly, those hanging onto the hope that Dice-K still has something left to offer his team may be tempted to re-evaluate their opinions based on his feces-like performance on Saturday (4 2/3 innings, 7 hits, 2 HRs, 3 BBs, 4 Ks). But that would be extremely shortsighted and hypocritical. Drink your poop water and hope the Dice Man turns it around on Thursday night.

Aramark and price gouging retailers: The state is vowing to crack down on local businesses who try to take advantage of the relative spike in demand for bottled water versus a quickly diminishing supply. Based on these standards, fans in Fenway Park for the upcoming 10-game home stand shouldn’t expect to pay more than $10.00 for a 20-ounce bottle of Aquafina. Any price higher than that will be considered overcharging customers for the sake of profit.

The local media and…the local media: Nothing bolsters ratings and newspaper sales like a good, old-fashioned poor start to the baseball season coupled with some relatively minor inconveniences that can be overblown by the media under the guise of providing a public service.