Should I thank the baseball gods for gracing us with 12 innings of crisp, economical, suspenseful baseball last night, one of the best games I’ve seen all year?

Or should I curse them for allowing JULIAN FREAKING TAVAREZ to wear a Red Sox uniform?

We saw many different pitchers last night.

We saw Johan Santana, jaw-droppingly dominant through eight innings, striking out thirteen (13), including the first five batters he faced, while allowing just five hits and a run.

We saw Curt Schilling responding as only he could, making do with the reduced velocity that comes with age by moving his pitches, slowing them down and speeding them up, hitting his spots and getting groundball and well-timed double plays.

We saw Jonathan Papelbon, our nail-spitting, fire-throwing closer, working two brilliant innings, working himself into trouble once, but then getting himself out of it with the help of the amazing defense behind him.

We saw Mike Timlin, fresh off the disabled list, stepping up to the task and retiring the side with a perfect 1-2-3 inning.

And then we saw Julian Tavarez.

We saw him looking pretty good at first, making Joe Mauer look silly with some filthy stuff.

But then we saw him hit Michael Cuddyer in the ribs.

And we saw him give up a ground-rule double to Justin Morneau.

And we saw him intentionally walk Torii Hunter.

And we saw him give a grand slam home run to Jason Kubel.

We did not see Manny Delcarmen, who was sitting on his ass in the bullpen.

We did not see Craig Hansen, who is biding his time in Pawtucket.

We did not see Jermaine Van Buren or David Riske, who, despite his portentous name, would have been a better choice than Tavarez.

We did not see Keith Foulke, either, which for now, at least, is a very good thing. He should take as long as he needs to get himself right, which he obviously hasn’t been lately.

I don’t know which is worse: watching such a deflating denouement to such an amazing pitchers duel, or the fact that most of Red Sox nation had a hunch we’d lose it as soon as they saw Tavarez warming in the pen — and knew we would as soon as he hit Cuddyer.

Or maybe it's that we’re paying him $3,350,000 to lose games for us in the first place.

Or that Terry Francona was completely oblivious to the fact that, as Rotoworld puts it, “Tavarez was probably the worst choice remaining in the Boston pen.”

If Julian Tavarez isn’t going to be cut loose, he needs to be buried so deep that we never see him again unless the score is so lopsided as to be positively insurmountable.

It’s time to work young arms into the mix and — this is important — have the guts to TRUST them in big innings. Look what happened when we did that with Papelbon. And, hell, they can’t possibly be any worse than this clown.

What a tough, ugly loss.

So bad, apparently, that Red Sox beat writer Chris Snow, the 24-year-old wunderkind with the job most aspiring sportswriters would give their left pinky for, has thrown up his hands and decided he’d rather run a hockey team.

(Seriously, best of luck to Snow. He's a smart writer and a great reporter, who never succumbed to some of the baser instincts shown by some of the sports scribes in this town: axe grinding, manufacturing storylines, injecting themselves into the stories. He had an intuitive sense of what we fans wanted to read, and the Globe sports page was richer for it.)

Quite suddenly, Curt Schilling seems to have a big problem with home runs.

A week after surrendering long balls to Giambi, A-Rod, and Posada in that 7-3 loss in New York, our ostensible ace watched balls hit by Ramón Hernández, Jay Gibbons, and the all-powerful Brandon Fahey (he weighs 160 pounds, folks) leave the park.

Luckily, we had some firepower of our own early on, with Manny and Trot both going yard in the second. As it turns out, we’d need those two runs dearly. 

Schilling got the win last night (his 198th) but it was a close one. Luckily Mark Loretta (3 for 5, still on fire) and David Ortiz (2 for 5, coming out of the slump) were able to knock in a couple to give us back the lead in the sixth. And luckily Mike Timlin and Jonathan Papelbon were able to combine for three perfect innings to preserve that slim one-run advantage.

14 for 14. 0.42 ERA. 0.66 WHIP. Just ... wow.

But when that man is on the mound, and you’re up 4-0 in the fourth, you never expect to lose the lead in the first place. You expect to build on it. A strong start notwithstanding, Schilling seemed to be struggling mightily toward the middle innings, however. As has seemed to be a recurring problem lately, he’d get two strikes on guys but just couldn’t put ‘em away.

And, three times, he turned around to face the outfield, looked past his helpless outfielders, and mouthed disgusted profanities to himself.

More home runs than strikeouts. I’m a little concerned. And rationalizing won’t do any good.

“Ultimately, he's thrown two bad fastballs tonight,” someone wrote in the SoSH game thread last night.

“That's what Torre used to say about Pavano and we’d laugh and laugh,” came the reply.

But Schilling thinks he has an explanation: 

Seven two-strike hits, four 0-2 hits — I'm still overthrowing the ball in situations I can't be Thirty-six pitches tonight with two strikes, and I got two swings and misses.

I know, stuff-wise, I'm different than I was two years ago. I don't have that 96, 97 anymore consistently when I need it with two strikes. But I'm not translating that on the field. I'm overthrowing the ball with two strikes and it's costing me and it's costing us.

Let’s hope that’s the answer. And that, having identified the problem, he can work on fixing it.

And let’s pray and pray with all our might that there are no problems with the ankle, as BP’s Will Carroll wonders this morning. That would be, shall we say, rather unfortunate.

The good news? Beckett doesn’t have a blister. And don’t you #$%&@ doubt him.

The bad news? The Rangers blew a nine-run lead against the Yankees last night, came back ahead in the seventh, lost that lead, regained it in the ninth off the suddenly-mortal Mariano Rivera, then blew it in the bottom of the inning thanks to clean-up hitter Jorge Posada’s two-run blast. All that with probably the weakest on-paper lineup the Bombers have fielded in recent memory. Oh well. Doesn’t change the fact that their team has a lot of problems.

As an astute fan noted on NYYfans last night, “This wasn't really a classic. This was a disaster of epic proportions that we just happened to win."

"Guys! I hit a homer! Yaaaaay!"

In other news, we still have to pretend we’re interested in Barry Bonds.

Get this thing over with already. In the mean time, send your your message here.

"WTF?"

SCENE: Interior, Jacobs Field visitor clubhouse. Sullen and shower-wet, in a room that’s silent as a tomb, 25 men dress slowly.

TIM WAKEFIELD tosses his glove into a duffel bag and clears his throat.

Hey guys? Guys? Lissen up. I just wanna say something. I’m a nice guy. You know that. Hell, I’m the nicest guy on the team now that Billy’s gone. That’s part of the reason they gave me that never-ending contract. And you don’t get nominated six times for a Roberto Clemente Award for being a jackass. But even nice guys get pissed off every once in a while. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pissed off right now. I just gotta say it. WILL YOU ASSHOLES PLEASE SCORE ME SOME FUCKING GODDAMN RUNS?! I mean, really! What’s a guy gotta do to get a win around here? My ERA is 3.90. If you don’t count that clusterfuck in Texas, it’s 2.20. I gave up five hits last night. My record is one-and-fucking-four. One and four! Yeah, fine, I shouldn’t have tried to sneak a fastball past Peralta in the first. My freaking bad. But did you happen to notice the way Bard was handling the knuckler? And we are the Boston fucking Red Sox! We should be able to come back from a three-run deficit! Hell, in ‘03 and ‘04 we used to do it all the time! Maybe not until the eighth or ninth inning, but we would still win! These days, I feel like I’m back in the National League. Well we’re NOT in the National League! If we were, my ERA would be as good as Bronson’s is right now. And don’t blame this all on Bard. I’ve already had my “talk” with him. He’s only responsible for two of those runs. Never mind the fact that he got one of the whopping five hits you guys found it within yourselves to cobble together tonight. This is on all of you. I’ve pitched five times so far this season. In that time, you’ve scored a whopping 10 runs. Ten! In the last three games, you’ve scored two. And left 23 guys on base! Seriously, what do they pay you for? They pay me to pitch, so they must be paying you to hit, right? So WHY DON’T YOU HIT? We already know that on nights I start we’re losing Tek’s bat. And Coco’s out, so we never know what sort of sucking black hole we’re gonna get to replace him. Mohr? Harris? I'm looking at you, dudes. Wily, you did OK last night. BUT WILY MO PENA CAN’T CARRY THIS TEAM! And when I go against a lefty, this lineup is even suckier. Trot. Buddy. They’re paying you seven and a half million dollars this year. And you still can’t hit lefties. C’mon. Think you might try to take just little extra BP? Maybe ask Ortiz how he’s doing it? I mean, it was really super nice of you to come on in the ninth with no guys on and hit that double. But it really didn’t help much in the grand scheme of things, did it? Ferfucksake guys! Please! I’m begging you! For the love of God! Score runs! PLEASE! When there’s a guy on second base? I don’t even care how he gets there! A walk and a steal? Fine. A hit batsman and a passed ball? Whatever. But when there’s a teammate or yours standing on that bag, KNOCK HIM IN. It’s not that hard! Hell, I’m a pitcher and my career batting average is better than what Harris is hitting. Hey guys: We’re playing the MFYs next week. Remember them? I want to beat them! How 'bout some help? Hell, I’ll even get the ball back for whoever hits the go-ahead RBI and inscribe it with my cool-ass calligraphy to commemorate the occasion. Sound good? OK. That’s all I got. Who's up for beers?

Triple-A Pawtucket Red Sox

LHP Abe Alvarez has gone 2-0 with a 2.50 ERA (5 ER/18.0 IP) through his first 3 starts…the 23-year-old has won both of his last 2 starts, posting a 2.08 ERA (3 ER/13.0 IP) while allowing only 4 hits in that stretch…the Sox’ 2nd pick (49th overall) in 2003 is limiting the opposition to a .103 (6-for-58) batting average.

Manny Delcarmen has pitched scoreless ball through his first 5 outings (10.0 IP)…the Boston native has 10 strikeouts and only 3 walks in 10.0 innings, while posting a .152 (5-for-33) opponents batting average.

Double-A Portland Sea Dogs

RHP Chris Smith boasts a 0.98 ERA (2 ER/18.1 IP) after 3 starts, posting a 1-1 record…the 25-year-old has allowed just 6 hits and 2 walks in 18.1 innings (6-for-60, .100 opponents batting average)…Smith was selected by the Red Sox in the 4th round of the 2002 draft.

RHP David Pauley has gone 1-1 with a 1.65 ERA (3 ER/16.0 IP) in his first 3 starts…the 22-year-old has allowed just one run in his last 2 starts combined, good for a 0.69 ERA (1 ER/13.0 IP)…acquired from the Padres in December of 2004, Pauley is holding lefties to a .209 (9-for-43) batting average.

RHP Craig Hansen (4 appearances, 8.0 IP) and RHP Edgar Martinez (6 appearances, 7.2 IP) have yet to allow an earned run in 2006…the 22-year-old Hansen tossed 2.0 hitless innings yesterday vs. New Britain, and has 8 strikeouts in 8.0 innings this season…Martinez has collected a save in both of his last 2 outings, and has pitched hitless ball his last 3 times out (3.2 IP)…he has not allowed a walk this season.

David Wells can kiss my ass. Really. After all the pissing and moaning he did about having to miss a single turn after so magnanimously withdrawing his trade request, he went out and got shelled by AAA kids last week, and then he went out last night and, surprise surprise, got shelled again.

Why was he back on the mound so soon? Because he makes extra money for every start after the 10th, so to miss a game is bad for business. For him. It’s just that simple. Why the team allowed him to come back when he so clearly was not ready is another story entirely. But the exact same thing happened last year, so perhaps we should be asking who’s calling the shots around here.

As fun as I’m sure he is to go out and tie one on with, Boomer seems to have no concern whatsoever for the good of the team. He'd rather get further down to road toward those $200,000 and $300,000 bonuses by pitching four innings of 10 hit, seven run (three homer) ball. What a way to take the wind out of our sails.

Those boos he heard were well deserved, and he damn well knows it. Good thing we kept DiNardo around, eh?

Oh well. Losses happen. Bright spots? There were a few.

* Wily Mo Peña saw ball, hit ball. Far. Trot’s gonna be out for four or six days — which, given his history, could mean four or six weeks — so we’re gonna be seeing a lot more of his brute strength. The good news is he seems already to be getting more discipline at the plate. He had a nice piece of hitting in the second, simply putting bat on ball to flick one to the opposite field for a single, and (gasp!) he even drew a walk. “I don't do that much,” he said.

Indeed. Wrote one SoSHer: “Wily Mo walked. Find and hug your childern, the universe as we know it may [soon] cease to exist.”

* Dustan doesn’t wanna go back to Lil’ Rhody.

* And our infield is freaking awesome so far, and is a ton of fun to watch. Good infields make for good pitchers, so let’s keep it going. It’s almost enough to justify a guy hitting .148/.207/.185 in the nine hole.

(Speaking of which, don’t look now, but our cleanup hitter isn’t doing too much better (.214/.371/.214). Time to panic? No. The same thing happened last season, and he came around in a big way. Manny will be Manny.)

Coco may be a no-go for the foreseeable future, but he just signed a hefty three-year, $15.5 million contract and got a bagel named after him. No wonder he loves this town already. Guess that home opener made quite the impression — wait until he plays a game here. He’s gonna need a diaper.

Change happens. It’s a good thing. (As long as he keeps hitting when he returns like he did in the first week on the job ... and maybe learns to slide feet first.)

With two high-profile extensions inked already this week, the front office looks intent on locking up talent for the long term. There’s an interesting discussion on multi-year contracts brewing here.

Old nemesis Ted Lilly goes against Matt Clement tonight. (You can hear it on WEEI ... for now.)

Teddy was tough on us last season (3-0 with a 2.40 ERA in five starts) but he had a rough outing in his debut, and we’re a different team now. Unroll that masking tape.

  

Tito abso-freakin-lutely made the right choice last night, and hats off to him for making it.

Keith Foulke will get his chance. Despite what Shaughnessy says, I don’t think he’s “lost his job.” Did last night's events make it all the more difficult to win it back? Quite possibly.

But for a manager who’s been known in the past to stay loyal to players long past their sell-by dates (think of all the at-bats he kept giving El Bencho deep into the season last year), it was refreshing to see him make the commonsensical choice.

Keith Foulke is timid, down in the mouth. He’s tossing tentatively, missing his spots.

Jonathan Papelbon is a flame-throwing, nail-spitting, fire-breathing beast. He went out there last night and blew those guys away. Two Ks! 95 mph! 11 pitches! He didn’t just shut the door, he knocked the thing off its hinges.

Will Foulke come around and kick major ass? Sure, it could happen. And we look forward to seeing him working middle innings and mop-up duty to prove that he can. But at this precise moment in time, you go with the hot hand, and Papelbon is that guy.

Kudos to Keith for saying the right thing. (“He's the manager of the Boston Red Sox. He's not Keith Foulke's dad.... This situation was handled correctly.")

And kudos to Paps for choosing his words right, too. (“I just think of it as us being a bullpen and us being a team.... I'm just going to go out there whenever Tito gives me the rock. And I'm going to try to do the job.”)

He calls it a “rock.” How badass is that?

Oh, then there’s this guy.

But he gutted it out in a big way, and it will be very exciting to watch him pitch from here on out. Seeing that look of pure, atavistic exultation on his face after getting the final K, seeing him drunk on adrenaline, motormouthing at the ump about what a great job he did, reminds you how intense this game can be sometimes.

Hey, Manny, that third base coach shouldn’t have doubted you like that. Gonna lead the league in outfield assists again? Great. Just be sure to hit, too.

Thank you, Trot, for taking full advantage of the one mistake Kameron Loe made all night.

I believe we’re gonna like the Mark Loretta era (2 for 3 with a walk last night) very much. Keep taking those pitches.

And about Coco Crisp? The guy is fast. Holy smokes, the guy is so freaking fast.

There goes 162-0.

I’m not worried about Wake. He’s gonna be like this from time to time, and we’ve known that for 10 years. Yeah, 4-0 before recording an out is embarrassing, but I’m willing to just chalk it up to nerves.

I’m not worried about the way Tito has assembled the rotation, with Wakefield slotted between Schilling and Beckett, either. When he’s on, which is most of the time, everything should work out just fine. And when he’s off, well, at least we have Josh Beckett to count on the next night.

I'm a little worried about Josh Bard, however. Not just inability to catch Timmy’s drunken butterflies, but his inability to remember how many outs there are.

(I’m also deeply disappointed, if only from an aesthetic standpoint, in his decision to wear one of those monstrous hockey-goalie type catcher’s helmets with all that chintzy airbrushed artwork all over it. I’d always been proud that Dougie and Tek kicked it old school with just a face mask.)

And I’m very worried — yes, already — about our bullpen. I would dearly love to be proven wrong.

At least they’re not driving me to drink. Yet.

Speaking of which, who woulda thunk we let D-Lowe go because he had a booze problem?

And here I’d always just assumed it was because they were sick of seeing The Derek Lowe Face.

Hey, as bad as last night was, just remember games like this and this and this to keep things into perspective. (Of course, in fairness, there were also games like this and this and this.)

Win tonight, Josh.

They all count the same.

 

 

The Globe unveils their blowout 2006 preview section today, focusing on the harvest we’re about to reap from our bumper-crop farm system. It’s comprised of far too many features, charts, graphs, and sidebars to link to individually, but check it all out here.

One of the more interesting pieces is Edes’s piece about the change in the evaluation of prospects, in which he talks to Bill James about major league equivalencies. (“Baseball men generally believe that minor league batting statistics are not a reliable indicator of how a player will hit in the major leagues,” James says. “After studying the issue extensively, I concluded that minor league batting statistics predicted major league performance with the same accuracy as previous major league batting statistics.”)

James, of course, works for us. "Numerous teams employ their own sabermetricians,” Edes writes. “Those that don't can always turn to Baseball Prospectus, which publishes an annual rating of players and is available on a daily basis on the Internet.”

Speaking of Baseball Prospectus, as promised, here’s the full interview I did with BP contributor Steven Goldman, in which he discusses Big Papi’s quote-unquote clutch hitting (“there are very few players who are terrible hitters overall who suddenly turn into Babe Ruth just because a guy is standing on second base with two outs. David Ortiz is Babe Ruth all the time. He’s Babe Ruth with the bases empty and Babe Ruth with a runner on second, so it’s sort of a natural thing that he tends to drive in these runs”); puzzles over Alex Gonzalez (“it was a very un-Red Sox-like signing. I think they kind of got boxed in... But the upshot of it is that is that if Pedroia can mature quickly — and we at Baseball Prospectus probably like Pedroia better than anyone; certainly better than Baseball America, or anyone else — if he can do that and be a real contributor, that’s gonna make a huge difference.”), and evaluates Coco Crisp (“I think Coco’s gonna be very good, and I think [comparing him] and Johnny Damon, you’re going to have a very hard time telling their numbers apart this season.”)

Etc.
Arroyo sure got his revenge yesterday, eh? Yikes. Too bad, then, that this is untrue. (Uh, April Fools Day isn’t until tomorrow, guys.)

Looks like Oil Can has slipped the surly bonds of Brockton and agreed to a deal with the Nashua Pride, playing for old friend Butch Hobson. (Can’t Ricky get some love?)

But if you can believe your Babelfish, a bigger deal is coming right down the pike. ESPN Deportes is reporting that...

The Dominican toletero David Ortiz is near signing an extension of 50 million dollars with the Red Averages of Boston.... ‘Big Papi’ would gain an average of 12.5 annual million in the seasons from the 2007 to the 2010.

Discussion here is more or less in favor of it, of course, but there are some reservations expressed about laying out that kind of cash for a guy who can’t play the field. Baloney.

That’s a hefty chunk of change, sure. But if there’s anyone they should be overpaying for, it’s him. If we don’t, someone else will. If you need more convincing, ThePhoenix.com web dude Ryan S. whipped up this horrific photoshopped nightmare (Dirt Dog eat your heart out!)

‘Nuff said.

This just in: Julián Tavárez is completely nuts. (But he’s also cuddly sometimes.)

This rivalry with the Devil Rays has reached epic proportions. Ridiculous. Should make for some fun watching this season. Two blood feuds with AL East rivals! Let just hope no one else gets hurt. And that Tavárez is duly warned that one more incident remotely like this one will see him cut from the team faster than young children run away from his hideous face.

We knew he was a headcase when we got him. No one should be too surprised. But we cannot allow antics like this to affect the team adversely. If he flips out again, we cut him loose and give his job to any of the PawSox kids who could do it almost as well. I thought we were all about character guys?

Etc.
* The good news? We actually won a game. (And don't feel too bad about being so far down in the Grapefruit League standings. The reigning world champs are doing even worse than we are.)

* The bad news? Boomer can bitch about that late start all he wants, but he’s got no stamina yet. He can sure use the extra work in Pawtucket.

* The good news? Foulke, apparently, is good again. (Please, God, let that be true.)

* The ugly news? Randy Johnson is a jerk. And still ugly. And his daughter, who "looks like him," is terribly unlucky.

* Godspeed, Tony Graffanino, and good luck.Thanks for playing here, and thanks for loving it. Sorry things didn’t work out.

After:

* Finally, in honor of Julián "Boom Boom" Tavárez, I looked back on the great Red Sox dust-ups of the last several decades for this Thursday's Phoenix. Couldn’t fit ‘em all in the print edition, but the vast limitlessness of the Internet allows room for the whole glorious list:

Gold Gloves
Red Sox brawls through the ages.

The sight of Josh Beckett jawing at Ryan Howard on Sunday afternoon, followed the very next day by crazy Julián Tavárez clocking Joey Gathright as he slid into home (then standing victorious over his supine form like Ali over Liston) had to make Sox fans chuckle. Only spring training? Someone tell these guys that. Yes, Tavárez is a known nutcase who may well cause further headaches — for the guys he punches and for his own team. And, yes, he should at least have used his non-pitching hand. But it was still pretty funny. Whether this fighting spirit galvanizes the new group of guys, or degenerates into a self-destructive tragicomedy remains to be seen. But with opening bell ... er, opening day less than a week away, we take a look at ten of Boston’s best bullpen-emptying, bench-clearing brawls.

5/30/38. Archie McKain & Joe Cronin vs. Jake Powell. After Red Sox pitcher McKain succeeds in plunking Powell in the gut (after first aiming at his head), Powell charges the mound. Shortstop/manager Cronin, an avowed Yankee hater, intercepts him, throwing roundhouses for several minutes in the middle of the diamond — and, after they’re both ejected, under the Yankee Stadium stands.

5/24/52. Jimmy Piersall vs. Billy Martin. Having exchanged heated words in the past, rookie Red Sox center fielder Piersall and Yankees second baseman Martin meet in the tunnel beneath the Fenway stands before game time and quickly come to blows. They’re separated by Boston hurler Ellis Kinder and New York coach Bill Dickey, but Piersall proceeds to heckle Martin vociferously for the entire game. Piersall, of course, was later institutionalized after a nervous breakdown. He also claimed to not remember his rookie season. “Probably the best thing that ever happened to me was going nuts,” he’s said. “Whoever heard of Jimmy Piersall until that happened?”

6/21/67. Jim Lonborg vs. Thad Tillotson. Yanks pitcher Tillotson beans Boston’s Joe Foy. Lonborg returns the favor, hitting Tillotson’s shoulder in his next at-bat. On the jog to first. Tillotson mouths off. Third baseman Foy takes issue: “If you want to fight, fight me.” Opposing armies, led by real-life friends Joe Pepitone and Rico Petrocelli, storm the field. According to RedSoxNation.net, it’s Petrocelli’s brother, a Bronx cop, who helps restore order on the field.

8/1/73. Carlton Fisk vs. Thurman Munson and Gene Michael. Peter Gammons says the “dumpy, stubbled Munson” was jealous of “the chiseled, handsome Fisk.” Pudge may have been good-looking, he was no pretty boy. Gene Michaels’ botched squeeze leaves Munson thundering down Fenway’s third base line, whereupon he crashes into Fisk and tries to lay atop of him so he can’t get rid of the ball. Pudge will have nothing of this. “Fisk had his left arm right across [Michaels’s] throat and wouldn’t let up,” then-Yankees manager Ralph Houk once told Gammons. “All the while he had Michael pinned down, he was punching Munson underneath the pile. I had no idea Fisk was that strong, but he was scary.”

5/20/76. Carlton Fisk vs. Lou Piniella. (Undercard: Graig Nettles vs. Bill Lee). Another classic. This time the Yankee runner who so rudely bumps into Fisk is the one and only Sweet Lou. Pudge responds by smashing his ugly mug with a baseball. In the donnybrook that follows, Yanks’ third baseman Graig Nettles body slams Sox pitcher Bill “Spaceman” Lee to the ground, separating his shoulder. Lee is never the same again. “You take a team with twenty-five assholes and I'll show you a pennant,” goes his famous quote. “I’ll show you the New York Yankees.”

4/23/99. Jaret Wright vs. Darren Lewis. (Undercard: Rheal Cormier vs. Jim Thome) Cleveland pitcher Jaret Wright plunks Darren Lewis in the fifth. Lewis charges the mound. Benches clear. Next inning, Boston pitcher Cormier plunks Cleveland's Jim Thome. Benches clear again. A good time is had by all. Later, All four players are later suspended for at least three games. Wright gets five, and after a similar incident in May is called before American League officials to account for his propensity for headhunting. He now pitches for the Yankees ... sometimes.

8/29/00. Pedro Martínez vs. Gerald Williams. On his fourth pitch of the game, Martínez hits Devil Rays’ leadoff man Williams in the hand. Williams charges the mound, getting in a few punches before being tackled by Jason Varitek. In the melee that follows, Sox players Brian Daubauch and Lou Merloni are injured. When Williams is ejected, he refuses to leave the field. Benches to clear again when he emerges from the dugout in the seventh. Petey responds by keeping his cool and taking a no-hitter into the ninth inning. It’s first blood in the Red Sox’ newest rivalry.

10/11/03. Pedro Martínez vs. Don Zimmer. (Undercard: Karim Garcia & Jeff Nelson vs. Paul Williams) I was in Ireland, getting periodic updates of Game 3 of 2003’ ALCS, when I was told that Pedro had thrown the elderly gerbil to the ground. I figured there must have been something lost in translation. There wasn’t. And the clip will be played before every Sox-Yanks game for perpetuity. Months later, in an ESPN interview, Pedro famously asked “Who is Karim Garcia?” He’s the guy who beat up a Fenway groundskeeper with the help of his teammate, of course.

10/27/04. Jason Varitek vs. Alex Rodriguez. (Undercard: Trot Nixon & Gabe Kapler vs. Tanyon Sturtze.) Well, duh. If you believe some folks, this was the fight that shook a moribund team from its doldrums and turned the Year of our Championship around. I’m not so sure it’s that cut and dried, but it sure was fun to see Varitek rearrange that metrosexual’s face. And Tek’s apocryphal rejoinder to A-Rod before the first punch — “we don’t throw at .260 hitters” — is priceless. Bonus points for this being the game in which Worcester’s own Tanyon Sturtze became a “True Yankee.” Ha! 

4/18/06. Seth McClung vs. Mike Lowell. Sticking up for his boys, the fiery-haired fireballer puts one right between the ribs of “nice-guy” Mike Lowell. Johnny Pesky then emerges from the dugout and dispatches each of the Tampa Bay starting nine with his bare hands. OK, this hasn’t happened ... yet. But if you don’t think retribution is coming when the D-Rays and Sox meet for the first time this season, you’d best think again.

So long, Saturn Nuts...

Hello, Wily Mo.

A very, very interesting trade. And, as with many such transactions, it’s not unclouded by emotion, and the jury may well be out for a full season or more. But I like it.

Some thoughts, none of which are particularly earth-shattering.

Bronson’s potentially skyrocketing music career notwithstanding, we sold high on this one. His K/9 rate has gone way down, from 7.15 in 2004 to just 4.38 last season. (He had 142 strikeouts in ’04, compared to just 100 in ’05, in 25 more innings pitched.)

Meanwhile, his problems against lefties only continued last year. Left-handed batters touched him up for 17 homers (righties only hit 5). They hit .275 (compared to righties' .228) and slugged a whopping .455 (.366) against him.

As someone said on Sons of Sam Horn, “Imagine an important game late in the year in the Toilet, with that short porch in right, and Arroyo having to go three times through Damon, Giambi, and Matsui?. . . . I have zero confidence in Arroyo in that situation, and frankly, if he can't pitch in that spot, he has no business being on the team.”

Do I feel bad that, against his agents’ advice, he took a hometown discount and now, just two months later, we’re sending him packing? Yeah, a little. But Bronson’s a grownup, and he knew this was a possibility. Sure, he seems like a good guy, even if his taste in music is a little lame. He was always willing to pitch, whether a starter or a reliever, and never complained. And he really wanted to be in Boston. But sometimes you’ve just got to make the moves that help the team. That’s not to say he won’t be missed.

Pena is an intriguing player.

His K rate also leaves much to be desired. He struck out 116 times in 311 at bats last year. Not good. As Theo pointed out on WEEI, that’s more frequently than anyone else in the big leagues. But it’s a stat we’re just going to have to get used to.

Because, while his career on-base percentage (.303) is a joke, while the 20 walks he drew last season are piddling, and while, by one metric at least, he’s the worst right fielder in baseball, the dude can rake.

Over the past two seasons he’s hit 45 home runs in 647 at bats. That’s awesome.

And, with most of his success coming against lefties — .276/.347/.536, versus .237/.286/.454 against righties in 2003-2005 — he’s the ideal platoon partner for Trot this season. (And, as seems likely, could take over full time if we don’t resign Nixon in ’07.)

Will he be a malcontent if he doesn’t play every day? Maybe. But, as someone who can do all three OF positions, and therefore could also spell Coco and Manny when need be, he should play as much as possible anyway.

As Theo admitted on the radio, this one’s “a bit of a gamble,” but it’s a trade that brings something to the table now, and potentially means something huge for the future. Take this young (24), big (6’4”, 245 pounds) guy with a lot of power, a "physical freak” who was signed to a major league contract at age 16, a guy who has a lot of tools but barely any minor league ball under his belt, and have him hang around his countrymen Manny and Papi. Let them teach him a thing or two. Then we’ll see what happens.

All things considered, you’ve gotta like this trade. As swell a guy as he was, Bronson was trending downward. And, for all his faults, Wily Mo is young and has a lot of potential upside if he can learn to take a pitch once in a while.

It will be interesting to see how Bronson’s ERA looks after a few months in the National League. We shouldn’t freak out if it gets lower — that would be a natural function not only of facing NL hitters, but guys who are unfamiliar with that sneaky slurve. We also shouldn’t wail and gnash teeth when Wily Mo strikes out for the umpteenth time. We’ll appreciate this trade when he’s bashing 45 home runs a season for us. Maybe. In the mean time, Thanks, Bronson. You'll always be one of the 25. And we'll always have Avalon.

(Get well soon, Johnny!)

No, things weren’t so smooth for him in the third (touched for three runs) and the fourth (two more), as our Mayor’s Cup hopes evaporated in a soul-crushing 6-3 loss to the Twins.

But he’ll be OK. He was just working on some stuff, spotting his fastball and building arm strength. Next time around he’ll concern himself with results.

And after all, according to this Globe Magazine profile by the most excellent Charlie Pierce, Papelbon may just be the next Roger Clemens.

Even if Boston fans won't admit it, there's a part of them that's always been looking for the next Rocket.

It may be Jonathan Papelbon. Or it may not. The blond right-hander looks just as young as Clemens was when he first arrived in Boston in 1984 and just as fresh and eager, which Clemens certainly wasn't by the time he left in 1996. Papelbon won't be 26 until after the season's over, even if the season doesn't end until the last possible day it can. Last July, he was brought up from the minors in an attempt to stabilize a Boston pitching staff that was turning into the Petrified Forest. He made three strong starts that month and next, and then he moved to the bullpen, where throughout September he was the strongest reliever the Red Sox had. He finished the season at 3-1 with a 2.65 ERA and twice as many strikeouts as walks. It can be argued that the defending 2004 world champions would not even have made last season's playoffs were it not for Jonathan Papelbon.

Likening Pap to Roger Clemens is a bold assertion. And one that’s been made before. But let’s try to withhold judgment for just a bit. He’s got potential, sure. And poise. And scorching stuff. But a burly body and a Southern twang do not a Rocket make. Let’s see how he pitches this season, whether it's as a starter or reliever, before so easily likening this 25-year-old rookie to perhaps the greatest pitcher ever.

Papelbon fan supreme Curt Schilling was also mowing 'em down in the early going on Saturday against the Pirates, but he also ran into a bit of a rough patch after a stellar first few frames.

After he beaned the Bucs’ Chris Duffy to start the fourth, things got a bit hairy. By the end of the inning, he’d given up four hits on four runs.

When yours truly commented as such in the SoSH game thread — opining that “ever since the beaning he's been pretty much falling apart,” having to throw “more pitches this inning than the first three combined” — none other than the man himself (posting under his handle Gehrig38) took me to task in the hours after the game:

"Falling apart"?
4 runs in 4 innings sucks, but I didn't see or feel a hint of falling apart.... I felt pretty damn good today, command, velocity, and at the plate.......

I stand corrected. Good to hear, big guy.

Schilling of course, has made it known that this season he’ll be working inside a lot more. And hitters had better get used to it. Forcing guys to stay on their toes is a valuable weapon, and he intends to utilize it.

As he notes in his SoSH post, “Bottom line is if you can't get out of the way, it's your fault. Comfort is something I could care less about when it comes to hitters.”

Duffy, not surprisingly, has a different take. "I don't blame Curt Schilling for what happened because I know he wasn't trying to hit me, especially in an exhibition game," Duffy said. "I understand he is working on pitching inside more, but sometimes you've just got to take responsibility. You've got to go about it in a classy way.”

Can’t we all just get along?

Saturday’s game also afforded the opportunity for a first look at much-touted Jon Lester. It coulda been better, shall we say. (2 IP, 3 H, 4 R, 4 ER, including a homer with eight of his first nine pitches out of the strike zone.) But it ain’t no big thing. Quoth Lester: “I'm not worried about this. It'll get fixed."

Meanwhile even doleful Keith Foulke is optimistic. ''I think I'll be a hell of a lot better pitcher than I was in '04,” he tells the Shank. Wow. Talk about bold statements. If that’s even remotely true, than we are in good shape indeed. But that’s a big if.

Anyway, says Schilling: "The 2006 AL East race, to me anyway, is about health of the pitching staffs, period."

Truer words were never spoken.

So the big guy wants to stick around after all.

He says Theo was thrilled. Relieved. “He had a smile from ear to ear.”

Theo says not so much. (“I think that's probably overdramatic.”) After all, why should he be? He was under no obligation to whatsoever to move the guy if a deal didn’t make sense. And, from all appearances, none did.

It doesn’t matter whose version of events is the accurate one. And it doesn’t matter what the reason was, whether is was Tek’s dead-serious pep talk (''He just gave me that look. It was something, like, wow. There was something behind that look. That vibe I got was deep, without even talking to him. Something heavy"), the desire to play for a winner rather than a team that wins its division playing .500 ball (“I felt this is the best opportunity I have to go out on top. This is a hell of a team”), or simply the realization that a deal just wasn’t gonna get done (“Having to fight City Hall, you get tired of it," he said. ''If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?”). The end result is the same. He’s heading north with us, and we’re better for it.

This is a good thing. If we can somehow set up a Schill/Wake/Beckett/Boomer/Papelbon rotation, sending Arroyo to the pen and maybe finding another team to take on Clement’s big contract and shaky confidence, that would be ideal. Otherwise, the old adage holds: you can never have too much pitching

As old as he is, as gimpy as the knees might be, there’s a decent chance he might still be able to rattle off 12 or 15 wins. We’ll take it.

Says Mazz: “Hilarious, isn’t it? At one point this offseason, Epstein escaped from Fenway Park while both Wells and Manny Ramirez tried to join him. Now all three are back, preaching allegiance to Boston, which makes you recognize just how screwy this game can be.”

Indeed. Along those lines, I wonder if he could also catch Wake’s knuckler every fifth day? Because it doesn’t look like Flaherty can.

So, now that he’s staying put, one request. Can you people pleasefortheloveofgod leave the guy alone?! We WANT him to be able to go out in Boston! We want David Wells going out to meathead bars, drinking himself silly, getting in fights with “fucking Italian, little squatty-body motherfuckers,” and winding up looking like