"Accountant Up!"
Great in 2008; that’s the mantra that many sportswriters have facetiously adopted in response to the plummeting fortunes of the 2006 Red Sox and their general manager’s steadfast refusal to make any moves to help this year’s model if it meant giving up any number of his golden children. So, while Red Sox fans will be treated to revolving door fourth and fifth starters, AAA call-ups, and extended try-outs in September, pretty much every fan of every other team not from Baltimore, Kansas City, and Tampa Bay will be watching their teams slug it out in one of the tightest post-season races in history. The best the Red Sox can do right now is play the role of spoiler, taking a game here and there from the actual contenders, making the race that much more exciting…for them.
For us, it’ll be 2001 all over again. You remember 2001, don’t you? Jimy Williams and Carl Everett? Joe Kerrigan’s mid-season promotion to manager? A fractured clubhouse filled with angry players who all wanted out of Boston? That was the last time the Sox lost six in a row, and the last time the team completely caved in on itself after a deceptively positive start to the season. That was the last time the Sox found themselves as sellers and not buyers just after the trade deadline, throwing virtually anyone and everyone they could to the waiver wire in hopes of not only dumping excess payroll, but also excess emotional baggage. Tongues wagged, fingers pointed, and there were even a few shoving matches (most notably Carl Everett’s head-butt to umpire Ron Culpa), racial slurs (at least according to Carl Everett), and complete contempt for Darwinism (once again, Everett…I sense a pattern here).
This year’s team is nothing like the hugs and bunnies 2004 group, with catchy slogans, Jack Daniels, and a total disregard for logic, statistics, and history. That team was straight out of the movies; a Revenge of the Nerds for the baseball set, with Pedro and Papi leading the panty raid at the Steinbrenner dormitory, while Curt Schilling did his best Gladiator impersonation, doing just about everything but dropping dead on the mound after throwing his last out-pitch. Kevin Millar and Johnny Damon were Cheech and Chong, Manny Ramirez was Ferris Bueller, and Theo Epstein walked around the place like a GQ cover boy, even whipping out his guitar to show how rock and roll this new Red Sox regime was.
From feel good comedy to downright drama, the 2006 Sox are the Glengarry Glen Ross of baseball. Sure we still have Papi and Manny, but who are these other guys? The clean cut, buttoned down professionals who actually look mad at themselves when they make an error (which is rare), strike out (common), or give up a run (hella common). This new bunch, with their tight jaws and angry eyes, make one pine for the days of 2004’s freewheelin’, fun lovin’ core, and their perfectionist-without-perfection demeanor is spreading. This team has no cowboys. It’s like a squad of accountants.
So, while this season’s cinematic theme is, sadly, tragedy, could a Major League style comeback be a possibility? Maybe Tito Francona could set up a cardboard cutout of a naked John Henry covered in post-its, and, with every win, reveal just a little more pasty white skin?
Yeah, and maybe I’ll be a Chinese jet pilot.
Great in 2008; that’s the mantra that many sportswriters have facetiously adopted in response to the plummeting fortunes of the 2006 Red Sox and their general manager’s steadfast refusal to make any moves to help this year’s model if it meant giving up any number of his golden children. So, while Red Sox fans will be treated to revolving door fourth and fifth starters, AAA call-ups, and extended try-outs in September, pretty much every fan of every other team not from Baltimore, Kansas City, and Tampa Bay will be watching their teams slug it out in one of the tightest post-season races in history. The best the Red Sox can do right now is play the role of spoiler, taking a game here and there from the actual contenders, making the race that much more exciting…for them.
