Room for improvement

What are the odds that Manny comes back next year?

What does this face (in reaction, of course, to the atrociously ugly blooper that can be viewed here) tell you?

If only it could be an animated .gif that would properly convey the disgusted shaking of his head.

Theo's icy glare does not inspire much confidence.

Nor does the team’s play since the second half began.

The mood is glum in Red Sox Nation. Luckily, the mood is ecstatic in Sea Dog Nation.

What does it augur for a certain 71-year-old’s political future that the arrival of Big Papi in the Pine Tree State is bigger news — much, much bigger news — than the arrival of John McCain?

Sox Blog’s home state is going completely nuts for the guy. Hopefully his mighty arms will repay Portland's citizenry by continuing his trend of unleashing a massive clout each and every game.

Speaking of Sea Dogs, I was able to attend most of a double-header at Hadlock on Saturday as the Dogs took on the hated Trenton Thunder. A good time was had by all, even if they dropped both games.

In attendance near me was the estimable knight of the keyboard Hurdy Chadwick, an upstanding citizen of Westbrook, Maine, and one of the two proprietors of Full Circuit Clout, an informative and provocative blog in which the goings-on of the 2008 season are bruited about using language not heard since the days of Nuf Ced McGreevy’s Third Base Saloon. (The one in West Roxbury, not the one on Boylston Street.)

Like Sox Blog, Mr. Chadwick is well angered by the sight of Manny Ramirez rolling about on the grass like a friendly golden retriever, and of Alex Cora committing an error that lead to four earned runs. And so, naturally is Hardy’s co-writer at Full Circuit Clout, Stuffy McInnes.

Yesterday, Mr. McInnes took it upon himself to convey his irritation to the Boston Boys via transcontinental cable. Hopefully, his hopping-mad missive will inspire them to get their dander up and play the grand game way the grand game should be played: in fine fettle and fighting trim.

So chagrined am I by the dreadful ball-playing of the local nine that last night I took a few coppers from my recent winnings at the greyhound track (where else is a Rooter to spend time during the All-Star Pause?) and dictated a Western Union telegram message directly to the flannel-wearing flailers.

Herewith are the contents of the message. It is my sincere hope that a chum of mine in the Anaheim clubhouse was able to deliver it in time to set these boys onto the diamond in the proper frame of mind to secure a “win” to-night.

NL 10:52PST 21JUL08.

BOSTON RED STOCKING BASE BALL CLUB

ANGEL STADIUM OF ANAHEIM, CALIF.

THE POOR QUALITY OF YOUR BALL-PLAYING IS WAFTING A STINK OF FAILURE FROM THE WESTERN JET-STREAM STOP DERBYS EXHIBITION GAMES AND LEISURE DAYS ARE OVER STOP MEANINGFUL MATCHES ARE NOW BEING CONTESTED WHICH REQUIRE YOU TO RESUME EFFECTIVE TWIRLING CAT-LIKE GLOVEWORK AND PILL-PUNISHING CLOUTING STOP GODSPEED KNUCKLES WE HAVE FULL FAITH IN YOU

STUFFY MCINNES MAINE

Alas, his sincere hope went unfulfilled. Perhaps a visit with the cellar-dwelling seafarers of Seattle will be just what the doctor ordered.

If not, I shall be reaching for my bottle of Duffy's Pure Malt Whiskey.