If you'd told me 24 hours ago that we'd be trading away a Ramirez, I wouldn't have guessed it would be this one. But I'll take it. Boy, will I ever.

Josh Beckett!

Suddenly that stalled GM search isn't so unsettling. Who needs one?

Still, let's not piss ourselves yet. It's all contingent on that physical.

But assuming he passes, this is about as brainless a no-brainer as they come. Three as yet unproven minor leaguers for a 25-year-old power pitcher who's already won a World Series MVP? And won it by shutting down the New York Yankees?

Yes, please.

Here's a question. Would this deal have gotten done if Theo was still general manager?

It's moot, of course. But one wonders whether Epstein, who prized our finally abundant farm system more than any GM in recent Red Sox history, would have pulled the trigger. I hope he would've. And the fact that his minions orchestrated the deal suggests he would've. But really, how could you not?

His history of blisters and that balky right shoulder aside, Josh Beckett is a proven dude.

And to get him, we're trading Hanley, Anibal Sanchez, and single-A righty Jesus Delgado.

Hanley Ramirez may very well be a superstar some day. And if he is, we will regret it. (Jeff Bagwell says hello.) But he might not be. And another middling season in Portland would all but destroy whatever big trade value he has. This is exactly the type of deal we should use him in. And, anyway: even if he is a terrific five-tool player, does anyone think he could possibly live up to the towering expectations he's built up in this baseball-mad town over the past couple years?

Sanchez had a respectable 3.45 ERA (with a 3-5 record) in 57+ innings pitched for Portland last season, and posted even better numbers on his way up. But he's far from a sure thing.

And Delgado is 21, has already had Tommy John surgery, and hasn't even been double-A tested.

They're prospects. Pitching prospects. Ever heard of TINSTAAPP?

Yeah, having to take on Mike Lowell's flaccid bat for $18 million is not the greatest.

But it says here (reg. req.) that the Twins want the guy -- apparently more than they want Bill Mueller -- and would be willing to part with Kyle Lohse, J.C. Romero, and/or Scott Baker for Lowell plus cash.

Now that is almost too good to be true. If there's any validity whatsoever, get on it. Toot sweet.

At any rate, pending approval, the Beckett deal will do wonders toward alleviating the nausea I've been afflicted with over the past three weeks. Sure there a risks. But look at the upside.

If he stays healthy, and if he signs an extension later, we've got a stud ace for years to come.

And we still have Jon Lester on the way up. Can you imagine a big three of Beckett/Papelbon/Lester? With guys like Hansen and Delcarmen in the pen?

And New Yorkers are getting queasy.

A good ol' boy from Texas like Beckett should fit in great with this bunch of gun-totin', Bible-thumpin', Dubya-stumpin' red staters. Loyal Sox Blog reader R.J.O Stewart points to this article, that calls him "a George Bush conservative whose other loves include deer hunting and country singer Kenny Chesney." ("I actually think that's the 'organizational difference of opinion' that led to Theo leaving," writes R.J.O. "He was upset the team was collecting these radical Republicans.")

But politics is politics. Baseball is baseball. And our team just got better.

11/22/2005 1:29:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Surprising no one but disappointing many, Alex Rodriguez was named American League MVP yesterday, narrowly beating out our own David Ortiz.

The fact that their smarmy, vain, slightly effeminate cheater bested our jovial, stouthearted slugger rests solely on the fact that A-Rod plays third base while Papi is "merely" a designated hitter. Merely the best hitter in the American League -- one who came through for his team again and again and again in situations where his heroics meant the difference between a win and an a loss. But, hey, he's not a "complete player."

Still, Major League Baseball defines the MVP (logically enough) as the "the player most valuable to his team." It's impossible to deny that, by that metric, David Ortiz should have won. The Yankees could have made the playoffs and exited in the first round without A-Rod. But there is no way in hell the Red Sox would've gotten as far as we did without Big Papi. We couldn't have won 95 without him.

As Tony Massarotti puts it: "In almost single-handedly carrying the Red Sox to their third consecutive postseason appearance, Ortiz did everything an MVP should do. He leapt tall buildings in a single bound, helped old ladies cross the street and rescued cats from neighborhood trees. Most incredibly, he got the Red Sox to the playoffs despite a pitching staff that should have been condemned as a high-risk structure.

''I don't think he realistically could have done more," Terry Francona told Chris Snow. ''He did everything in his power to make a claim for the MVP. I don't think it was [a case of] him not pulling it off."

Yet 16 of 28 sportswriters went with popular sentiment and awarded Rodriguez a first place vote. (Ortiz had 11 votes for first, and Vlad Guerero -- who tied with Manny for nine third-place votes -- had one.)

Dan Shaughnessy -- after confessing his affection for A-Rod (they deserve each other) -- puts it plainly. "If Ortiz could not win this thing after what he did in 2005, it's unlikely a full-time DH ever will be named Most Valuable Player."

Oh well. We shouldn't expect anything different. Red Sox fans know that Ortiz excels in the clutch while Rodriguez wilts. We know that Papi is the centerpiece of his team while Rodriguez, according to some reports, is an outcast in his own clubhouse.

But these are sportswriters. Many of them old-fashioned. Hidebound. Myopic. These are the same people who awarded Bartolo Colon the Cy Young award despite the fact that he was eighth in the league in ERA, tied for eighth in strikeouts, and 13th in opponents' batting average last season. The fact that he was first with 21 wins -- the one statistic that reflects individual talent least and depends most on help from teammates -- was the clincher.

One cold comfort, however, is the fact that even winning his second MVP in three years is not enough for A-Rod to satiate the New York fans and press.

In the New York Daily News, Mike Lupica lets him have it with both barrels:

"We can win three World Series, with me it's never going to be over," Rodriguez said yesterday. "I think my benchmark is so high that no matter what I do, it's never going to be enough, and I understand that."

What a guy.

The definition of benchmark goes something like this: A point of reference for a measurement. A-Rod knew exactly how big Yankees were measured when he decided to move here from Texas and move from shortstop to third base. The idea that the expectations for him are now ridiculously high is ridiculously low comedy....

He is the best player on what everybody calls the best team going into every season. He is the richest player in history playing on the richest team in history. He hasn't won yet and the Yankees haven't won since 2000. So far they are made for each other.

Poor A-Rod. The guy can't win.

Will it ever end?
Just when you thought it was safe to read the sports pages again, just when closure seemed possible and wounds had begun to heal, ESPN's Buster Olney writes this on his blog ($ only):

In conversation with folks in the game yesterday, this is what they hear: Theo Epstein, feeling great regret over walking away from the Red Sox job, sent feelers through channels to Boston ownership that he's interested in talking about coming back -- and so far, that overture has been rebuffed... To bring back Epstein now, after all that has transpired, would be another blow to Lucchino, because it would create the perception that Epstein had won out in his request for a change in how some decisions are made within the front office.

But on WEEI this afternoon, Olney said this thing's still alive. The chances for consummation? About 10 to 15 percent.

My first reaction: You've got to be kidding me.

Really, this is getting ridiculous. It's been dragging on for two weeks now. He made his decision. They realized they screwed up. They tried to get him back. He said no. He put on a gorilla suit. He left the building. They tried again to get him back. He said no again. He had a press conference. Rumors still swirled. They closed the book. Started interviewing other people. And now this?

That's assuming you can believe everything you read, of course.

Which, of course, you can't. Of course.

And this one looks especially fishy to me. From everything we think we know about Theo and his character, it just doesn't seem like his MO. Why would he change his mind at this late date? And why would he be approaching it in this way? "Feelers"? Through "channels"? He's known Lucchino for 14 years. And John Henry looked like he was saying goodbye to his own son at that press conference.

Couldn't he just, y'know, call them?

Of course it's more complicated than that. Olney is definitely right about one thing. People are pissed off on Yawkey Way. The way this all went down was a snafu of the highest order, and everyone involved got bruised up. Really, who could blame ownership for telling Theo to shove it after what they -- Lucchino, especially -- have been through in recent weeks? Is it a foolish move business-wise and baseball-wise? Yeah, I'd say so. But I can't begrudge them their right to laugh in his face.

Can you imagine what it would be like if he actually came back after all this drama? Not only would Lucchino be almost irrevocable emasculated in the eyes of the fans and the press, but every front-office flare-up next season would be blown out of all proportion as the coming of the second apocalypse.

At this point it would seem most prudent to just move on.

Then again, what if it's all fiction? Who are these "folks in the game" anyway? Could it be another petty, semi-fictional leak, designed to make Theo look fickle and weak-willed while bolstering ownership's efforts to appear in control?

Who knows? I sure don't. And until someone is (re)hired, I'm just gonna sit back and watch. It's never boring.

11/15/2005 4:01:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

The boy wonder may be gone from the team, but he'll still be banging away on that blue guitar as part in the Red Sox Foundation's annual rock'n'jock charity extravaganza, Hot Stove, Cool Music.

He's got some extra time these days to practice his licks.

Theo will take the stage at the Paradise on January 8, along with the usual suspects: Peter Gammons, Bronson Arroyo, Lenny DiNardo, and Kay Hanley, the Gentlemen, and Juliana Hatfield.

Expect Pixies covers, Pearl Jam covers, and at least one Gammons original. Just don't corner Theo in your drunken state and expect him to give you answers. He won't.

It's all to benefit The Jimmy Fund and Foundation To Be Named Later, the charity founded by Theo and his twin brother Paul.

Tickets are $40 and are available Friday at noon via NextTicketing.com or the Paradise box office. It's 21+ and doors open at 6 p.m.

11/10/2005 6:37:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

LARRY: But what about us?
THEO: We'll always have St. Louis.
LARRY: You said you would never leave.
THEO: But I've got a job to do, too. I don't know what, but where I'm going, you can't follow. What I've got to do, you can't be any part of. Larry, I'm no good at being noble, but it doesn't take much to see that the problems of one little baseball team don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you'll understand that. Now, now... Here's looking at you kid.

11/10/2005 11:55:00 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

There was just one chair. Not a good sign.

But then, as Theo Epstein appeared stage left with his baseball operations minions, John Henry and Tom Werner emerged stage right. (Larry Lucchino, the man who'd introduced his protege to the world in 2002, was nowhere to be seen. No one seemed too surprised.)

But why were the owners there? Had there been a change of heart at the eleventh hour? Could we be in for a Ken Macha moment? Was all forgiven? Would there be joy in Mudville after all?

No.

Theo read the statement he issued Monday night.

Growing up in the shadow of Fenway Park, I never dreamed of having the chance to work for my hometown team during such an historic period.

My decision not to return as General Manager of the Red Sox is an extremely difficult one. I will always cherish the relationships I developed here and am proud to have worked side-by-side with so many great people, in and out of uniform, as together we brought a World Championship to Boston.

In my time as General Manager, I gave my entire heart and soul to the organization. During the process leading up to today's decision, I came to the conclusion that I can no longer do so. In the end, my choice is the right one not only for me but for the Red Sox.

Still, we hoped. Maybe this was all just dramatic prelude?

"That was then!" he'd scream as he tore his speech to shreds. "Lucchino's not here because he's out committing hara-kiri on the right field roof! Theo's back! And he's back big!!!"

But reality intervened. He finished his speech.

"I stand by every word."

And that was that.

He took questions. Read into his answers what you will. I know you will.

He maintained that Dan Shaughnessy's column on Sunday "is what it is ... a column ... by a columnist ... the opinion of one person."

He said there was never any contract agreement in principle. Theo knew things would go down to the wire, and he told ownership he would give them an answer on Monday at 1 p.m., which he did.

"Reports of power struggles, or meddling by Larry weren't really the case," he said.

He said reading the vilification of Lucchino in the papers has been painful for him at times. He said that he "wants what's best for Larry."

He said his decision was a hard one, but to be general manager of the Boston Red Sox, "You have to be all in. With your whole heart." He couldn't do that anymore.

But he denied that he's burned out. He still has a passion for baseball. And he foresees himself in some leadership capacity, with some team, sometime in the future.

He said another team had approached him, through an intermediary, about a position there. He informed them that he was busy helping the Red Sox make this transition. He told the intermediary that next week, after he's seen his former coworkers off to the general managers meeting in Palm Springs, might be a more appropriate time to talk.

He said that wearing a gorilla costume was "a lot of fun," and that he will wear one again.

He said it would be inaccurate to say he's had no second thoughts, that to do so would imply his was an easy decision. It wasn't. But was the "right decision"

Someone asked, for the umpteenth time, why he was leaving.

It wasn't Larry Lucchino. He wasn't burned out. It wasn't a money thing. Why?

"I would hope my answers help you get there," Theo said.

Then Boston Red Sox principal owner John Henry, the man Tony Massarotti called for to be a "calming force" in this frenzied mess, the man Jackie MacMullan said "must be answerable," took the stage.

He was calm, all right. His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. And he looked ashen.

And he answered.

This is a "great, great loss," he said. And he was "wholly responsible."

Henry too was upset about what he was reading about Lucchino in the papers. And the words he chose to implicate himself and exculpate his CEO were crushingly sad.

He seemed stunned. He confessed his naivete.

"Never in my wildest dreams did I think this could happen," he said.

He said had this "romantic notion" that the brilliant kid from Brookline would be with the Red Sox "for the rest of my life."

But he was wrong. He knew that now.

"Maybe I'm not fit to be principle owner," he wondered.

The fact that Theo was really leaving seemed only now to be dawning on him. Henry confessed that the team hadn't yet started the process of finding a new general manager.

Until that point they had be "so immersed in trying to get Theo to stay." They'd failed.

But, Henry said, "We're going to be fine."

I wish I could believe him.

11/2/2005 3:25:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

"Not a good day. Not a good day at all."

Well, at least Shaughnessy and I agree on something.

So writes the curly-haired boyfriend this morning, in a column proclaiming that Theo Epstein and Larry Lucchino's 13-year mentor/protege relationship has "reached its breaking point."

Shaughnessy was all too happy to be the straw that broke it.

By most accounts, Theo was ready to come back for three more years. Everything everyone had been speculating about -- the money, the power dynamic -- had been resolved. What no one realized was that there was another issue involved: trust.

If you believe what you hear, when Theo read this column the Globe on Sunday, that trust had been broken.

Shaughnessy questioned "Theo's sudden need to distance himself from those who helped him rise to his position of power," the people who "held his hand and drove him places during his Wonder Years."

He charged that it's "a mistake to say [Theo] knows more about baseball than Lucchino or anyone else in the Red Sox baseball operation.... He can read the data and has a horde of trusty, like-minded minions, but we're not talking about a lifetime of beating the bushes and scouting prospects."

And he maintained the botched Colorado trade this summer was thanks to one of said minions, not Lucchino, and that Saint Larry was asked to "fall on the sword and invoke the ownership approval clause" to kill it, "saving Epstein."

Where do you suppose that info might have come from?

Whatever you think of potential conflicts of interest in the Globe/Sox marriage, it's immaterial.

What matters is this: Theo finally decided he was better off working with his brother Paul, or just taking a break to recover from three years of 80-hour weeks, than he was putting up with the intrigue and innuendo and all-around BS that comes with this job. He decided that even $4.5 million isn't enough to compensate for the headaches.

It isn't too hard to imagine that that article was all it took to make Theo realize once and for all that this noxious environment was not a place he could work in for the next three years.

Shaughnessy's column today is meant to be exculpatory, but it rings hollow.

"It's certainly possible that Theo saw that version in the Sunday Globe and had second thoughts about a future of working with Lucchino. This was the popular version put forth last night on WEEI and in a Herald blog. Again, I choose to believe that Epstein is smarter and more mature than that. Much smarter. And much more mature."

What does that have to do with anything?

Theo is mature. Probably more mature than Lucchino. It wasn't Theo Epstein who was leaking to the press during the A-Rod negotiations; it was Lucchino's rash pronouncements that pissed off Texas ownership and helped quash the deal. It's not Epstein who's reportedly "despised by Red Sox players," it's his boss.

At any rate, Shaughnessy, that magnanimous knight of the keyboard, is ready to fall on his sword. "Blame me if it makes you feel any better."

To judge from the visceral reaction on Sons of Sam Horn last night, that's exactly what people are doing.

"Fuck the Globe"
"CHB = Bob Novak"
"When CHB writes, do Lucky's fingers move?"
"I can't wait until we read the CHB stories revealing how Theo was more concerned with the future of "Trauser" then the Boston Red Sox."

But no, it doesn't make me, or anyone, feel any better.

As another man once said, "all this negativity that's in this town sucks."

As any Boston sports fan knows, Shaughnessy's column was just the latest in an interminable string of ad hominem attacks, veiled and unveiled. He did it to Pedro, he did it to Nomar, he's done it to Manny. Now it's Theo's turn.

Why?

He's got to know damn well that he's the most hated sportswriter in this city. But he doesn't seem to care. Simply put, it's all too apparent that Dan Shaughnessy doesn't really like the Red Sox. He prefers gossip, innuendo, and axe-grinding. Maybe he should get a new job.

The really sad part is that things were supposed to be different with this ownership. They had a new organizational philosophy, they cared about the team, the park, the fans. They were going to win at any cost. And Theo Epstein, Brookline's boy wonder, was going to be one of the keys to doing so.

And, amazingly, he delivered. Three seasons of 95 wins or more. Three trips to the post season. One World Series championship. All in just three years on the job.

But now, he's leaving, and everything looks different.

As a SoSHer puts it: "This whole process has just validated that the Lucchino and the Sox front office are no better than 99% of the other baseball owners out there: slimy, shameless, and exploitative."

It was an enormous miscalculation. A huge clusterfuck from the beginning. And now we've got to live with the fallout.

That's the most sickening thing about this. The GM meetings begin in barely a week. We have desperate needs, and we've got no GM to fill them. Who gets the job? And how long will it take to find someone?

Gordon Edes thinks Kevin Towers is a good bet. But who knows? Why on earth would he want to walk into a situation this poisonous?

As Bob Ryan rightly wonders, "What person of quality, watching how this all came down, will want the job? Larry Lucchino isn't going anywhere. He is in a stronger position than ever."

Says one source to Michael Silverman, "Gerry Hunsicker or Pat Gillick? None of those guys would put up with Larry."

That's to say nothing of players. Think Paul Konerko or B.J. Ryan want to come work for us after reading about all this crap?

(And, for those of you who harbored any hope whatsoever that Manny Ramirez would be in a Red Sox uniform this spring, rest assured that he is gone for sure now that Larry Lucchino has asserted his primacy.)

This is a dark day.

It's hard to shake the feeling that the giddy elation we were all still feeling a year ago today has now been quashed irrevocably. An overreaction? Maybe. But you've got to wonder if Brian McGrory is right when he laments that "the Red Sox ... are undergoing the nearly wholesale dismantling of their magical, championship club."

Theo Epstein is not walking through that door. Pedro Martinez is not walking through that door. Manny is as good as gone. Johnny probably too. Schilling is pissed off. Ortiz is dumbfounded. ("Crazy. It's crazy.") Wakefield is upset. Tito too.

Damn it all.

But at least we still have Larry Lucchino. And a brand new EMC club where we can drink our $7 beers in our $275 seats as we watch our hastily cobbled-together Boston Red Sox this spring.

And, whatever happens in the coming days, weeks, and months, it should comfort you that Dan Shaughnessy is "still hoping that it can be fixed."

11/1/2005 11:58:00 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |