Cowboy Down... but not Out!
Kevin Millar; He was the man who Theo Epstein plucked from the jaws of Dragons (the Japanese ball club, not the literal scaly, toothy kind), to deliver clutch hitting, decent power, and serve as the all-important final ingredient for Theo’s clubhouse chemistry kit. The boy genius’s experiment worked, and Millar proved to not only be a dynamic presence on and off the field, but also served to bring the Red Sox most disgruntled employee, Manny Ramirez, out of his self-imposed locker room exile, and into the glaring spotlight of the media. He coined catchphrases to unite the team, embraced self-deprecation as 2003’s Karaoke Guy mascot, and carried the 2004 team through a rough late August stretch when he, himself, found his offensive stride.
Now, however, Kevin Millar is this week’s Edgar Renteria. The boo-birds are calling for Terry Francona to sit the Cowboy and start The Helmet. John Olerud, Millar’s “late-inning replacement” has proven he has the stuff to start ballgames, despite his age, injuries, and the fact that he runs slower than my digestive system after a fondue party. While Millar’s batting average hovers in the .230’s, Olerud is spraying hits all over the ballfield. While Millar is making feeble errors, Olerud is turning in spectacular double plays. Of course, Olerud’s only been here for a week, and what we see is simply sample size (say that ten times fast!). He isn’t a solution for Kevin Millar at first base, nor is he a substitute; he’s a supplement. As Millar said in a recent address to the “Nation”, Kevin Millar and John Olerud are simply better than just Kevin Millar alone.
What the Red Sox really need is for Kevin Millar to find his swing, and heat up the same way he did last season. Francona isn’t just hoping this happens, he seems certain it will, the same way he was certain last year. The manager’s patience paid off, Millar got hot and stayed hot, and the Red Sox were a better team for it.
The Cowboy may be down, but he’s not out.
Not yet.
Kevin Millar; He was the man who Theo Epstein plucked from the jaws of Dragons (the Japanese ball club, not the literal scaly, toothy kind), to deliver clutch hitting, decent power, and serve as the all-important final ingredient for Theo’s clubhouse chemistry kit. The boy genius’s experiment worked, and Millar proved to not only be a dynamic presence on and off the field, but also served to bring the Red Sox most disgruntled employee, Manny Ramirez, out of his self-imposed locker room exile, and into the glaring spotlight of the media. He coined catchphrases to unite the team, embraced self-deprecation as 2003’s Karaoke Guy mascot, and carried the 2004 team through a rough late August stretch when he, himself, found his offensive stride.
