9/26/2006 5:19:59 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

9/26/2006 1:47:27 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Kudos to Jeff Horrigan for actually, like, doing some reporting about Manny’s tendinitis and finding — surprise, surprise! — that “medical experts say that his time off is normal and totally understandable, depending on the degree of the condition.”

The degrees of patellar tendinitis are divided into four phases on the Blazina classification scale, with Phase 1 being the least serious (pain after activity) and Phase 4 being the most serious (tearing of the kneecap tendon). The tight-lipped Sox have provided few details, other than the fact that he is suffering from patellar tendinitis, but indications point to Ramirez falling somewhere between Phase 2 (pain during activity but not affecting performance) and Phase 3 (pain during activity due to minor tears that affect performance).

The fact that the team sent him for an MRI during the last homestand, which was described as “clean,” indicates that Ramirez’ symptoms may be well beyond a Phase 1 injury. If that’s the case, being sidelined for the better part of a month is normal. If it reaches Phase 3, however, the Sox might want to ponder sending the 34-year-old for surgery as soon as possible.

Cincinnati Reds medical director Dr. Tim Kremchek hasn’t examined Ramirez, but he has treated several star players with Phase 3 patellar tendinitis. Kremchek said surgery was the proper course of action for the likes of Milton Bradley, J.D. Drew and Seth Etherton.

The same article says that Manny might play tonight.

Let’s just hope he doesn’t aggravate a Phase 3 injury and screw himself up big time for the long haul. Getting himself hurt severely — thereby incapacitating himself for next season or negating his trade value — would be a terrible way to “quit on his teammates.”

9/26/2006 11:20:40 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Manny Ramirez is a lot like President Bush. You either love him, or you don’t.

Red Sox fans either worship his stats and his steady production, lauding him for the future Hall of Famer that he is and explaining away those Manny-being-Manny moments.

Or they bitch and moan about our $20 million man, accusing him of laziness and shiftlessness and general flakiness. He doesn’t run out ground balls, they say. He's not a "leader." He cares only about himself and not the team. He’s a malingerer. He doesn't "play the game right." Get him gone.

Very seldom is there an in between.

So it should surprise precisely no one that there’s been a vociferous back-and-forth — here, here, here, here — about Gordon Edes’s incendiary column on Saturday.

In 2011, when Manny Ramírez will be 39 years old, he will start to receive the first installment in 16 years of deferred payments. The checks that year will total slightly less than $2 million, and by the year 2026, when Ramírez will be 54 and the checks are scheduled to amount to $2.043 million, Ramírez will have collected close to $32 million in deferred payments, or twice the current payroll of the Florida Marlins.

Do you suppose that 20 years from now, Ramírez will feel even the slightest bit of remorse for the way he quit on his Red Sox teammates in 2006, refusing to honor the code that is an article of faith for Jason Varitek and Mike Lowell, Curt Schilling and Coco Crisp, Trot Nixon and Alex Gonzalez, and Mark Loretta — even the now-departed fat man, David Wells — that you do all within your power to play hurt.

Barring a midlife conversion experience, I doubt it.

Wow. To me, the fact that it was Edes who wrote this, not a guy like Shaughnessy, says a lot. Edes is a thoughtful reporter and a smart columnist. He’s not usually one for full-on negative pieces, or explicitly calling guys out.

So, what gives? Has Edes finally heard enough griping from Ramirez’s teammates that he decided to take a stand? Was Manny’s purported trade request the straw that broke the camel’s back? Is he pissed off that Manny won’t talk to him? Is he racist?

Count me as very surprised to hear such strong words coming from a guy who’s usually pretty measured and restrained.

And count me as Manny fan. One who is endlessly aggravated by the drama that surrounds him — some of it brought upon himself, some of it created and perpetuated by the media — but who still thinks his huge numbers make it all worth it, and would love to see him finish his surefire Hall of Fame career in a Sox uniform. One who thinks it will be a whole lot harder to replace him in the lineup that some people (Edes included) seem to think.

But, obviously, a lot of other people feel very differently. Who are the teammates calling him out? Edes does not have any attributable quotes. Can we assume that Youkilis’s recent griping about having to play Manny’s position — one that he’s struggled with — are an indication of the mood in the clubhouse?

(“Somebody's gotta play out there in left field,” he told the Globe. “I'm here to play ball. That's all I want to do is play ball. If it means I have to play left field, I'll play left field. [But] I wouldn't say I'm a left fielder by any means.”)

Or is this all based on the griping of a few guys?

The thing about stuff like this is that it’s almost impossible to know anything for sure. (Except for the fact that the guy who called Edes at home is a true factory-wrapped douche. Oh, and I highly, highly doubt that Edes is a racist.)

But the questions are there. Who are these teammates? Is it guys who suck, and are jealous of his talent and salary? Or is it “leaders” who are fed up with his antics? Are the double standards — Dominican Manny gets crucified for missing 22 games at the end of the season, while Trot Nixon, whose numbers aren’t nearly as good, but who is white, gets a free pass (is held up as a paragon of hardnosed Dirt Doggedness!) despite having spent months on the DL over the past three seasons — real or perceived? Was that pinch hit appearance on Saturday a good faith effort to play through the pain, or a selfish way to strut his stuff for trade suitors?

We’ll never know.

Just as we’ll never know — no one except Manny will ever know — whether the severity of that knee injury is such that he legitimately could play through it, or whether he really did “quit on his Red Sox teammates.”

But it’s important to remember that, for all this drama, for all his maddening moments, Manny played 154, 152, and 152 games in his last three seasons with the Red Sox — seasons in which he was among the most consistently excellent hitters in the game and was named MVP of the World Series we’d thirsted for for almost a century. With all the controversy that surrounds him in this town, deserved or not, can we really blame him for wanting to play somewhere else?

9/25/2006 2:00:34 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [1] |  

Big congrats, big guy.

9/22/2006 10:34:18 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

9/21/2006 11:53:07 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Great to see you back, Gammo.

And, no...Thank you.

9/20/2006 4:02:37 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

I’ll admit, I entertained the notion.

At the game last night, sitting in some wealthy bandwagoneer’s empty field box seats while the rain came down in drenching sheets, I held out hope.

Even after Wake had put us in a six-run hole after two innings.

If we could just eke out this win, then two more, if we could somehow sweep the Twinkies — get back at them for doing the same to us — we’d be 4.5 games out with nine left to play. Totally doable!

I kept hope alive, even as Ortiz grounded out to short (1st), struck out swinging (4th), struck out swinging again (6th), then hit into a fielders choice, with Loretta out at second (7th).

(The Twins, you may have heard, Big Papi’s old club, are the only opponent this season against whom he has not hit a home run.)

I let myself get all psyched when dirt dog Trot reached on a wild pitch in the eighth.

I didn’t get deflated, even after Lowell erased him on a DP.

I knew we were gonna tie it up when Vartitek pinch-hit for Gonzo with Mirabelli on first and Pedroia on second.

In the event, however, we did not. Tek fouled out to third.

But it was not until Papi struck out swinging in the bottom of the ninth, mercifully ending a long an drenching night, that I finally, at long last, allowed myself to acknowledge that we will not be playing post-season baseball in 2006.

We needed a sweep in order to keep any glinting ember alive. We couldn’t do it.

And I’m OK with that.

In other news…

* Vroom, vroom.

* Can you blame him? I sure can’t. Lemme rephrase that. I can blame him for hitting like dogshit all season. But I can’t blame Doug Mirabelli for being forward about his feelings about getting back to “his boys” on the Red Sox, nor for him taking a dig at the Padres and the pitiable NL on his way out. This is, let us not forget, a team that won the division last year with a .500 record.

* Congrats, Tek. I forgive you for fouling out last night. It was not meant to be.

* Not only is the bullpen wicked smaht, but they got good taste in tunes. Lenny D’s entrance music last night was the Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind.” But not the original band version, the reworked Frank Black Francis and Two Pale Boys version! How cool is that?

* I love ya, Trot. Always have. Even when you spend weeks on the DL, or pop up the first pitch, or forget how many outs there are and throw the ball into the bleachers, allowing three runs to score. (I was there for that one, did you hear me razzing you? I’m over it now.) Listen, your power numbers may be way down, but I’ll never forget this or this or those three doubles the night the good thing happened. Keep your chin up, man. No matter what happens, even if you’re in a different uniform, you’ll always be a Red Sox.

9/20/2006 2:11:56 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [1] |  

…Congrats to the Portland Sea Dogs, who beat the Akron Aeros yesterday to win the Eastern League Championships for the first time since their founding in 1994. The Dogs — aided and abetted by catcher-of-the-future George Kottaras — had been victors in the Sox/Yanks proxy war that was the EL playoffs, besting the Trenton Thunder even though their lineup featured a rehabbing Hidedeki Matsui. Nice work! Great to celebrate at least some sort of postseason championship. Big ups also to Brandon Moss for his MVP award. It’s all about the long-term plan, see? And we'll see you in the dugout tonight, Devern Hansack. Well deserved, no matter how old you are.

…And razzes to the Globe, for this horrific, awful, egregious error in Nick Cafardo’s article about David Murphy today. What a whopper. I sure hope Cafardo, who usually does great work, put in those names — Johan Santana? — as place holders meant to be filled in with the correct info by some eager young intern. It’s been fixed, of course, but does anyone fact check anything anymore?

9/18/2006 5:05:36 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [1] |  

Now that was weird.

No, not the fact that we took three out of four in their house — something it sure would’ve been nice if we could have done, say, four weeks ago.

It was weird that the Boston Red Sox and the New York Yankees played each other four times in less than 36 hours, back to back double-headers, and I only kinda sorta cared.

It’s been a very long time since that’s been the case.

But, hey, I’ll take it.

At the very least, we kept them from clinching right in front of our cryin’ eyes.

(Apparently, we’ll always play second fiddle to the Big Apple. Even on the Monopoly board.)

There were some good things to see this weekend.

David Murphy was “awesome.”  (At the plate, at least.)

Pedroia may be little but he can swing a big bat. (Best line, from one of Red & Denton's peeps: "We kind of won that second game. I mean, if Randy Johnson nearly gets taken deep by a kid half his size, then walks him twice, it's a win.")

And Big Papi got just that much closer to this guy. (He may get the MVP. He may not. But can you blame him for not wanting to talk to reporters?)

Coco jumped high, deked the first baseman to keep a big inning alive, and hit a little too.

But Papelbon is done. And, most likely, Manny. Wily Mo and Youk are out for a few days at least.

The games might not have meant much this weekend, but I’m sure happy we won most of ‘em.

Feels good.

Bill Simmons thinks we’re happier when we’re miserable.

Wrong. Beat the Twins. Not because of any long-shot Wild Card dreams. Just because.

To my loyal readers (all nine of you): Apologies for the long absence from this blog. I realize that it must look like the height of pink-hatted bandwagonism to stop posting as soon as things go south, but I assure you that my love and passion for this team remain undiminished.

A) I was very busy with other stuff. B) I didn’t much feel like weighing in on this Ortiz/Jeter nonsense except to say it sounded like much ado about nothing, which it is. C) I think some time away did me good.

Keep reading. If the off-season is anywhere near as exciting as Schilling seems to think it’s gonna be, there will be an awful lot to talk about — like this and like this — between now and late February.

9/18/2006 12:42:34 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

This has long since stopped being unbelievable and entered into the arena of the absurd.

Jon Lester has cancer. It’s treatable, they say, but it’s going to be a long hard fight. I don’t have to say that the thoughts and prayers of all of Red Sox Nation are with him, and we’re sure he’ll beat this handily and emerge stronger and better for it. In the mean time, his family would like some privacy. (Dan Shaughnessy called them anyway. Credit where credit is due, however, for a rare readable and compassionate column.)

I figured once August was over we’d see at least a diminution of the Job-like afflictions that have befallen this team and many of those associated with it.

I should have known better.

So. Not only is one of our young studs beginning aggressive chemotherapy, possibly as early as today, but another, arguably our best pitcher,  a cornerstone for the future, is out for who knows how long with “burning” and “stiffness” and “weakness” in his throwing shoulder.

And now our only consistent, reliable starter is going to miss at least his next turn.

What have we done to deserve this?

Last night, before hearing about Schilling and Papelbon, as Kyle Snyder pitched the game of his life and we started creeping our way towards another win, I foolishly let my thoughts wander. Chicago was its way to a loss. We’d soon be six games back from the Wild Card, with three games left against the ChiSox and the Twins. Our lineup was getting close to being somewhere near complete again.

Hey, I deluded myself, this might be doable after all! How inspirational would a playoff trip be, even one with a quick exit, in light of what we’ve been through. Do it for Jonny Lester!

I sobered up soon. Wells is gone. Schilling won’t be facing the White Sox. Papelbon is having an MRI Monday, and no matter what the results are, he should be shut down for the season. So should anyone with even the remotest possibility of aggravating an existing injury. Yes, Ortiz too. Home run records and MVP awards be damned. It’s just not worth it with the luck we’ve been having.

We’re fielding a de facto AAA team now, we might as well go whole hog. Bring up the kids. All of ‘em. Let them play the games. Just to get us through the month. Just to see us to the end of this awful, awful season.

9/2/2006 12:37:27 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Let’s take a deep breath, take a load off, and smile. Just a little.

* Thanks, Alex.

* And thanks Alex!

* I saw Julian Tavarez at Burger King yesterday afternoon. Must have been carboloading on French fries and (and chicken fries?) before his first start in more than two years.

* He does a good job disguising it, but this is the happiest Dan Shaughnessy has been since October 17, 2003.

* And this is the most ridiculous thing I have ever read.

* Curses do not exist. If they did, I would get rich writing a book about them.

* Good luck, Boomer. Sorry it had to end this way. Wish we coulda raised some more hell together.

* And Godspeed, Broadway Charlie. Incidentally, I misspoke yesterday: Mr. Wagner was not the oldest former Red Sox player. That honor belongs to Billy Werber, who is 98. (And Don Gutteridge had a few months on him, too.)

* Next year is fine. Doesn’t mean we can’t win tonight, too.

9/1/2006 4:33:54 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |