The bearded Manny

Doug:
So when so-called Friends of Manny say he "might act irrationally if he is not traded," what do you suppose that means?

 

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Mike:
Well, given that Manny's default and/or normal behaviah is, er, screwy, for lack of a bettah word, how exactly are we supposed to know when he's "acting irrationally"?

 

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Doug:
Maybe he can give us a head's up by holding a sign or something? Instead of "Manny Being Manny" it'd read "Manny Being (More) Manny!"

 

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Mike:
Or what if the "irrational" Manny is a flip of the "normal" Manny such that the irrational becomes rational?

 

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Doug:
Ah, right! So all of a sudden the "irrational" version is, you know, running wicked hahd to first on pop flies, is begging to play every day and remembahs how many outs there are in an inning … shit like that.

 

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Mike:
You know regarding this latest trade me saga, I'm entirely sympathetic to Manny's or any celebrity's desiah for privacy etc, but, c'mon, living at the Ritz Cahlton smack dab in the center of the city of Boston isn't exactly working the privacy angle too hahd.

 

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Doug:
Geez, you think? But I can understand Manny's inability to grasp that, but you'd think his wife would have her wits about her. I mean she's from Brazil aftah all.

 

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Mike:
No kidding. In South America if you have any money or social standing at all you live behind razah wiah and a 10 foot wall of reinforced concrete to keep the riff raff at bay.

 

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Doug:
Regahding privacy, I think Manny should take a page from the Saddam Hussein playbook and get a dozen look alikes to use at decoys.

 

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Mike:
Hell yeah he should. And just to complete the Saddam motiff, every couple of weeks he should don a suit, tie, and a hat and step out onto his balcony and fire a couple rounds from a Kalashnikov into the air one handed.

 

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Doug:
Right on. Say what you will about Saddam, but as fah as dictahtahs go, the guy had an old school sense of style.

 

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Mike:
You know, they just don't make dictahtahs like they used too. It's all been downhill since Napoleon.

 

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Doug:
Fucking democracy.

 

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And He Shall Purify the Sons of Larry

Bill:
You ready for the Jim Beattie era?

 

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Mike:
Argh. Going from Theo Epstein to Jim Beattie is like trading David Ortiz for Tony Womack.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, my only solace is in thinking the Globe story is full of shit. They haven't, you know, been a very reliable baseball news source of late.

 

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Mike:
Speaking of reliable, did you heah that Johnny Damon is the new Cal Ripken?

 

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Bill:
Yep, according to Boras 7 years is a steal. At age 41 in 2015 Damon be ahead of both Ruth and Aaron in all-time runs.

 

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Mike:
Who the hell knew that Johnny the Jesus would have greatah careah longevity than Jesus the Jesus!

 

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Bill:
Well, see, if Jesus the Christ had a little less Judas and a little more Boras, it'd been a whole new ballgame in Judea.

 

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Mike:
"Hello Pontius Pilate? Good morning your excellency, Scott Boras here. I represent Jesus of Nazareth, and I've got 10-section, three-ring notebook I'd like to go over with you …"

 

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Take a number

Bill:
Jeez, I was just stahting to rally around the idea of giving Beckett numbah 21 to wear, when I saw the Curly Haired Butthole make an argument for it. Now I couldn't give a damn.

 

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Doug:
Well, you know what Shaunghnasty's thinking, right? If they give 21 to Beckett, then as soon as Beckett goes through some tough times, ol' Dan-O can roll out the "Beckett's a disgrace to the numbah, he's no Rojah!" column.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, eithah that or the Shank already has one of ominous numerology columns filed away, you know, things like Babe Ruth had 21 teeth. There were 21 Bostonians on Titanic. The A-Bomb exploded 21 seconds aftah being dropped. JFK was shot 21 minutes aftah the hour … that's the CHB's bread and buttah.

 

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Doug:
Meanwhile, this front office doesn't have the balls to make a break from the past like that. And, of course, I'm sure they like the idea of keeping alive the "Clemens may come back one day" pathos among the fan base.

 

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Bill:
If I'm a playah, I'm going with numbah 00 and saying it's an homage to one of the coolest dudes evah to represent Boston: The Chief, Robaht Parrish.

 

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Doug:
Ah, that's right the ol double nill. For some reason I thought Parrish wore numbah 420. Heh.

 

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Bill:
But what's with all this positive integah only crap anyway? Where's 5 and two-thirds? 7 and three-forths? How whole numbah biased is that?

 

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Doug:
It's the Man, dude, imperialist, hegemonist fraction hatahs.

 

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Bill:
Fercrissakes, some of my best friends are irrational numbahs.

 

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Doug:
Are you kidding me? If it wasn't for Pi, I'd be a total square.

 

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Giving thanks

Hart Brachen:
Your humble host Hart here on the metaphorical trolley of life …

 

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Hart Brachen:
I'm doing the "over the river and through the woods to an undisclosed location I go" show, so no strip for the next few days.

 

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Hart Brachen:
Like you, I'll be spending a considerable portion of tryptophanic haze being thankful for the Josh Beckett trade and wondering, oh, so much wondering about these reports of Theo Epstein's ongoing visits to his former office.

 

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Hart Brachen:
And a huge thanks, of course, to all of you for your readership, support, and pithy comments.

 

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Hart Brachen:
Eat well and be well my fellow Soxaholix!

 

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Better not pout?

Bill:
Wait … Hold on I'm checking … OK. Yep, it's true. I just pissed myself.

 

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Mike:
"… the Sox and Florida Marlins have agreed in principle on a deal that would bring Josh Beckett and third baseman Mike Lowell to Boston for prized shortstop prospect Hanley Ramirez and minor league right-handers Anibal Sanchez and Jesus Delgado."

 

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Bill:
Looks like the "GM by committee" is working out a helluva lot bettah than the "bullpen by committee," eh?

 

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Mike:
I dunno. A paht of me looks at this deal and cringes — I mean Lowell is dead weight, pure and simple, and Beckett is going to make Pedro seem durable by comparison …

 

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Bill:
Ah, quit your bitchin' … This is one of those deals you just have to do if the opportunity arises no mattah what. Beckett's only 25 years old fercrissakes and Schilling says he's "as electric as they come."

 

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Mike:
Maybe. But I don't think this deal happens if Theo is still the GM.

 

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Bill:
Earth to Mike: Theo ain't the GM anymoah. Get ovah it.

 

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Mike:
Oh, that's rich coming from the guy who walked around the office for 3 consecutive days pining and moping like a school girl and saying he was going to quit the Red Sox aftah Theogate went down. Jeez.

 

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Bill:
Christ, don't they teach you kids any Emahson in school anymoah? You know, consistency, hobgoblins and little minds and shit?

 

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Mike:
Yeah but transcendental homeboy was talking about foolish consistencies … What's so foolish about, you know, stocking the farm system and developing from within rather than trading it all away for a "win it now" crapshoot?

 

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Bill:
You know it's easy for you Gen X'ers to take that "we've got all the time in the world" approach, but for us baby boomahs now in middle age we need something to get us through the evah longah and coldah wintahs. Josh Beckett gives me something to look forward to this April. Anibal Sanchez? Ah, not so much.

 

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Mike:
Ah, great. Because of you old fahts I'm going to have neithah a fahm system nor social security.

 

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Just a ride

Mike:
All this talk about amphetamines has me wanting some. I've been sluggish since the time change. Coffee just isn't getting the job done.

 

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Doug:
Lately I more and more find there's no coffee in the coffee.

 

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Mike:
How true. I plow through it and it is definitely a coffee area, but there's no coffee in it.

 

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Doug:
Right, and you always think there'll be a little at the bottom of the cup, but there nevah is.

 

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Mike:
The fact is, coffee isn't just a substance — it's an event, and it's manifestation depends on countless subtle conditions, most of which are not speakable.

 

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Doug:
If it's missing at all, it's all missing.

 

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Mike:
Yeah, like a major league ballclub without a GM.

 

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Doug:
If you say "G-M G-M G-M" real fast it sounds like Jem. And thinking of Jem is a pleasant distraction.

 

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Mike:
Ah, I'm not too fond of the little Welsh rarebit, too scrawny.

 

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Doug:
Dude, are you for real? You need to get finally woken to her squeamish hottiness, her barbaric coquettishness … I mean c'mon.

 

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The Others

It's another Thursday without much baseball news so, once again, The Soxaholix become the Lostaholix [caution: episode spoilers galore] …

Bill:
Watching the small bright dot in the sky rapidly enlahge to reveal itself as the about to crash violently tail section of doomed Flight 815 was one of the best sequences I've evah seen on TV.

 

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Tara:
And the pacing was superb. 48 days in 70 minutes? Hell yeah! On the edge of my seat the whole time. And Mr. Eko? The most righteous and visually poetic kicker of ass on all of network television. And some seriously nipples to boot.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, and leathah vest clad Ana "I do take prisoners and torture the piss out of 'em" Lucia ain't no slouch eithah.

 

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Tara:
Man, that knife and apple scene with her and the infiltrator Other, Goodwin, was pure joy.

 

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Bill:
Are you kidding me, Larry Lucchino would give a gonad to be half as smooth as Ana Lucia.

 

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Tara:
I think Larry Lucchino is one of the Others. I mean what's the first thing they do? Dissapear the kids, right? Look what happened to Theo.

 

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Bill:
More likely is Lucchino as part of The Dharma Initiative. I mean what bettah way to study lahge scale communal behaviah than to give long suffahring Red Sox fans what they most wanted only to 12 months latah destroy it all for no apparent reason?

 

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Tara:
Yeah, 4 Yawkey Way is really Dharma Station 4 and there's a hatch underneath Fenway where Larry and the Dentist go to receive coded messages from Alvar Hanso to do nonsensical things like "sell sod" and "get rid of Theo" all for the sake of large scale behavorial research.

 

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Bill:
Makes as much sense as anything we've heard out of the front office in explaining the crapfest they've gotten us into.

 

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Talk Dirty to Me

Bill:
And yet anothah potential GM candidate says "Thanks but no thanks" to the Red Sox.

 

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Mike:
Christ, you've got about as good a chance to get a lawyah for Saddam Hussein as you do a Red Sox GM at this point.

 

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Bill:
Yeah, and Lucchino's about as populah in Boston as Saddam is in Bagdad right about now.

 

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Mike:
This is what I most feahed all along. It's not that Theo is some irreplaceable GM genius, but rathah that any potential GM candidate with half a brain would look at the Red Sox situation and go, "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

 

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Bill:
Of course, Lucky's personal Pravda reports that Dayton Moore, the alleged top choice for the GM spot, "felt great chemistry with Larry Lucchino …"

 

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Mike:
Yeah, and I hear arsenic tastes like burnt almonds, not at all unpleasant as you're slowly poisoned to death.

 

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Bluffing Nuts

Susan:
Jeez, I was reading Baseball Musings this morning and I had to double-check that the blog's name hadn't been changed to "A-Rod Schmoozings ".

 

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Mike:
Totally. When the generally stoic Pinto goes all "Tom Cruise on Oprah's couch" ovah Slappy, it, er, creeps me out more than a little bit.

 

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Susan:
So how do you think A-Rod is going to spend his million dollah bonus for winning the MVP?

 

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Mike:
Oh, you know, a little Texas Hold 'em, maybe some 5 Card Stud being that he's a self-proclaimed "5 Tool" playah and all …

 

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Susan:
You think the A-Fraud plays pokah the way he plays baseball? You know awesome with the early hands but when the pot gets big he totally folds?

 

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Mike:
Absolutely. Bet he's not above cheating a bit, too. What's the pokah equivalent to the sissy ball slap, anyway?

 

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Susan:
Maybe he uses his rings to distract the other playahs … Oh, wait I second, I forgot, A-Fraud doesn't have any bling bling.

 

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Mike:
Anyway rumah has it he's a pidgeon at the cahd table: Whenevah he has a good hand, his lips turn blue.

 

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Keeping it real

Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Hey-ya, Mr. Roy. Long time no see.

 

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Doug:
You know how it goes, Arturo, the food nannies have black listed your fine, processed food product. Just an occasional treat for me these days.

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
You should try a Tofu Pup. They're healthy and the kids love 'em.

 

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Doug:
Ah, Christ, you know, I've never understood the vegan obsession with making non-meat products look just like meat products. The Garden Burger? The Tofurky? What the frig? If meat is murder, then why in Christ do the vegans want their crap to look just like meat?

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Yeah, it's like a coupla lesbians with a strap-on. I mean eithah you like dick or you don't. Can't have it both ways, ladies. Heh.

 

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Doug:
Some things you just can't fake. Which is why no mattah how the voting goes, we all know who the real MVP is, right Arturo?

 

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Arturo, the hot dog vendor:
Big Papi, 100% clutch. Accept no substitutes.

 

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