Wishing you peace and joy.

The Yankees dumped $180 million and eight years in Mark Teixeira's lap, and it was an offer he couldn't refuse.

I think it's safe to say the Yanks have reloaded this off-season. They signed C.C. Sabathia to a $161 million, seven-year contract; they signed A.J. Burnett to five years for $82.5 million. And now Teixeira, plus $5 million thrown at Chien-Ming Wang for good measure. Their luxury tax alone on this payroll is reported to be $29.6 million--and there's still the possibility they could sign Manny Ramirez.

As a Red Sox fan, at least objectively speaking, none of this is great news. We couldn't have expected the Yanks to take their miserable 2008 results lying down, of course, but to see them get an actual pair of relatively young starting pitchers--a pair of aces?--is enough to make me gulp. With the Juice Man gone, the Yankees are exponentially better at first, especially on defense, as they also have Nick Swisher to just sort of kick around as a utility player. I also don't want to think about that lineup. A Yanks-fan friend who called me to gloat actually got me started in a discussion about where you'd hit Teixeira, behind or in front of A-Rod, before I finally caught myself and said, "Wait, why the fuck am I even talking about this with you?"

But yeah.

Actually, of all of them, AJ Burnett is the one who scares me the most, based on how he's matched up with the Red Sox in the past. Invoking the usual 'as long as he stays healthy' disclaimer, Burnett has been difficult if not impossible to solve for the Sox when I've seen him face them. Meanwhile, the Sox solved C.C. Sabathia twice back to back in the ALCS in the year he won the Cy Young--that had to have been his best shot, and so I at least feel like it's a fair fight there. And they also beat Teixeira and the formidable Vladimir Guerrerro with the Angels. Burnett, on the other hand...? I'd rather face Roy Halladay than Burnett. Then again, there is that chance he could end up, as the same Yanks fan referenced above put it, "being Jaret Pavano."

Another couple of silver linings for Sox fans: with this kind of payroll, the old "Yankees and Red Sox are the same now" chestnut might have some of its thunder stolen. But the biggest one of all is that the Yankees have once again thrown a ton of money at the problem through some probably unwisely long contracts to procure free agents--the same pattern that put them in this mess in the first place. Recall it was not their more high-priced assemblages of de facto All-Stars that has won the most rings most recently--the sainted Derek Jeter, still the face of the Yankees franchise, is a homegrown kid. As was Pettitte. Mariano Rivera also made his debut with the Yankees (as a non-drafted free agent), as did Jorge Posada.

Meanwhile, we've seen a few Great Hopes signed as free agents to restore glory to the pinstripes this decade. A-Rod himself, by the free-agent instant-improvement logic, should've been more than enough to lead them to the promised land. Randy Johnson, remember him? And who could forget the return of Pettitte and Clemens?

I know there will be some who call this sour grapes, but really. Call me when the Yankees produce a Dustin Pedroia or an Evan Longoria (and please don't give me any of that crap about Joba equalling Josh Beckett). That's when I'll really be shaking in my boots.

Is it a snow Belichick? That appears to be a whistle around its neck. But otherwise it looks overall a little bit more like a deformed polar bear who's waving, or perhaps a mutated snow-dog.

Thoughts?

For those of you who are Patriots-inclined, I've been posting far more regularly on the Patriot Act at MVN this winter. For this game, I kept a running diary of all the snow-filled hijinks.

Anyway, I also know it's been a while since I rapped at ya over here. Believe me that I'm aware the Yankees have gone out and bought a couple of pitchers--including AJ Burnett, which, ouch. Quite frankly, he bothers me more than CC Sabathia, though I can always hope he'll wind up in the Carl Pavano Memorial MRI Tube.

Still little in the way of news about Teixeira or Varitek. Which is fine, because one scenario involves the potential for the loss of Mike Lowell, the other the potential for the loss of the Captain AS WELL as the equally scary possibility of retaining his bat. All of which still have me plugging my ears and going LA LA LA LA.

So for now, here's hoping you all have a safe and happy holiday, and that your stockings (or politically correct equivalent) are full of rare Boston sports memorabilia collectibles.

First he won the Gold Glove. Then he won the Silver Slugger award. THEN he won the MVP.

As if all that wasn't enough, today, the Sox dumped a four year contract worth $60 million on top of the pile.

Is it just me, or has it been all Pedroia this offseason, all the time?

I can think of worse things.

And wherever he is, I hope he's picking up dinner.

This is the time of year that is furthest from baseball. Even the biting crispness of late October is totally gone from the air. Trees are bare skeletons. Only a matter of time before there's snow.

It's also the time of year that's furthest from baseball for me. I'm too emotional about it, and about my players, to enjoy talking about dealing them like trading cards. So for example, I just plain don't want to think about Jason Varitek. If he's gone, I understand the reasons. If he's not, I will be apprehensive about his bat. I have no say in it, no control over it, and either way is going to involve some pain, so I just wait for it to happen and hope it's quick and merciful, whichever way it goes.

But I also realize that this time of year is sometimes the most important in the baseball calendar. This is the time of year, for example, when a young Jed Hoyer showed up on the doorstep of the Schillings of Arizona and charmed the paterfamilias with gift bags.

"Hello, I'm Jed Hoyer, Assistant to the General Manager of the Boston Red Sox."

While immediately thinking "B.S.—this is R.J. or someone playing a gag on me,” I could see he had bags of “stuff” in his hands and a letter.

I honestly cannot remember if Theo was there or not. I think (?) he might have been. Anyway, Jed presented me with this letter, and gift bags.

I received two letters during these negotiations. I think the first one was a sincere thank you for the opportunity to attempt this, and the second was a letter from Bill James, speaking directly to me about the fact that Fenway was far from a 'hitters park' and that statistical research showed I would perform much better in Fenway than I had in Bank One in most cases.

The gift bags were full of Red Sox gear and memorabilia for all of our children.

Regardless of the content of any of this, the first thought that hit me was, "Classy." The Red Sox were serious and they knew how to show that in a meaningful way. I was impressed to say the least.

What I remember about this time (other than the anguish that followed Game 7) was that Pedro and Manny were the favorite lightning rods in town. This was during my days of heavy WEEI listening, and the knock on both Pedro and Manny was that they were snotty prima donnas who thought they could get away without talking to the press, who cried language issues unnecessarily, etc.

What I remember liking about Schilling right off the bat was that he was so talkative, open with the press, and seemed to enjoy the attention. I thought he would finally give people what they wanted around here, and maybe take some of the pressure off the others.

Imagine my surprise when Schilling's talkativeness became the main point of criticism.

But that's neither here nor there. It's something I still appreciate about him, especially since it means he's using his blog(s) to give fans an inside look at what happened from his point of view. If you're on Facebook, he's sharing photos as well. From a fan's perspective, Schilling is one of the most accessible baseball players, if not the most accessible, ever. Maybe the pros come to take being around these players for granted, and maybe that's by design. But for a fan, these things are priceless, and something to be thankful for, all these years after that first Thanksgiving.

As long as I'm being a thankful fan, here are a few more things I'm thankful for in sports this Thanksgiving: first and foremost, that Tom Brady's knee appears to be healing; that we have Matt Cassel, your AFC Player of the Week for the second time this season, filling in at QB; that Bill Belichick is still on our sideline; that we have Dustin Pedroia and his groaning trophy case; that Kevin Youkilis finished high in the MVP voting; that we have Jon Lester; that we have this ownership, for both the Sox and Pats; that our city has finally been on top of the world in sports for so many years; and most of all, that there are people out there on the Interwebs who continue to come back to this site and read my blather and comment.

Wishing all of you and yours a safe and happy holiday.

...every so often, I catch glimpses of former players, especially those from 2004, and it warms my heart. This is especially true when the former player is DAVE ROBERTS.

I get ESPN: the Magazine for some reason (and I mean that--I'm not sure if it was piggybacked on a gift subscription I got to SI, but I seriously have no idea why it started showing up at my house), and in the most recent issue they asked pro athletes what was on their Christmas wish list. Most of the athletes listed something either nearly or totally unattainable, such as a World Series ring.

Toward the bottom of the magazine sidebar was a familiar name: "DAVE ROBERTS, Giants LF." And this is what he said:

Love.

Matt Light wrestles a morning show host. Hilarity ensues. The super-slow mo at about 3:06 is the high point.

My favorite Coco Crisp Memory is his catch in June 2006 against the Mets:

I'll never forget seeing him leap, fly, dive, and roll on the warning track from my clear vantage point in Loge Box 150; I'll never forget how wide my father's eyes were as he put his hands up in surprise and celebration. All 36,000 in the ballpark screamed for minutes on end, screamed and screamed and somehow no screams of joy and gratitude seemed loud enough.

I think most of us are left with the feeling that Coco Crisp never really reached the potential he was expected to in Boston. Personally, I thought the writing was on the wall at the end of 2007 after Jacoby captured RSN's heart and World Series playing time.

In contrast to so many of his former teammates, though, Coco was a constant smiling presence on the Red Sox (except, of course, when he was going apeshit on umpires), playing time or no playing time. He always gave maximum effort no matter what his personal situation, like when he came in for a single inning at the very end of Game 7 of the 2007 ALCS, but caught two of the outs. And he leaves simply because he is at a position where we have a surplus (outfield) and need to fill a position where we have deficits (middle relief). About as tidy a baseball deal as you could ask for.

Dustin Pedroia:

2007 AL Rookie of the Year
2007 World Series Champion
2008 Silver Slugger Award
2008 AL 2B Gold Glove

And now...your 2008 AL MVP!!

There hasn't been a young player like this for the Red Sox since the rookie and sophomore campaigns of Nomar Garciaparra. Pedroia is arguably even better; while Nomar finished high in MVP voting his second year, he did not capture the award.

In honor of Pedey, then, a 2007-2008 digital scrapbook below the fold.

2007 World Series

Dustin Pedroia smashed the fastball right back into CC Sabathia’s face.

Much is made of the size of both men, who occupy opposite ends of the spectrum. CC is listed at 6’ 7” and, charitably, at 290 pounds. He’s not only towering in stature but thick, carrying around a paunch low-slung on his midsection like a kangaroo. Dustin, as we know, is undersized.

Sabathia started Dustin off in the first inning of Game 1 with straight heat, feeding him fastball after fastball just to see what Pedroia would be able to do with the pitch. Dustin finally answered by getting his bat around on a heater, sending a screaming liner straight back toward Sabathia’s head. Though CC would safely glove the returning missile, the point was across: CC fed Dustin fastballs, and Dustin took his bat and brushed him back.

The Sox, as represented by Pedroia, would come out swinging in this series, and through the first 19 innings looked as though they meant to continue piloting the steamroller they’d fired up against the Angels on a straight course for the awaiting NL pennant winner. But somewhere in the midst of game 2, something odd happened. The bullpen uncharacteristically broke down. Well, uncharacteristically except for Eric Gagne, whom everyone in Boston agreed the next day had been the official Least Valuable Player of the night, since he put the two men on that started the Indians’ 7-run rally in the 11th.

Pedroia would also embody the fate of the Red Sox as the pennant series drew to a close. He was just 3 for 17 going in to Game 5, and had spent the ALDS in a two-fer slump as well, and then as the Sox surged to take the last three games, began mashing the ball, finishing with a series average of .345 and a 5 RBI effort in Game 7. Pedroia’s entire season, in fact, was an encapsulation of this concept—from struggles in April to red hot in June and beyond on the way to Rookie of the Year. Tough breaks, followed by breaking out."Still, Pretty Good Year: Part IV ALCS"

(Photo from sittingstill.net)

2007 ROY

Of course in Red Sox Nation we are not surprised that our Happy Scrappy Hero Pup has been named Rookie of the Year for the American League. From the moment his bat woke up in May to the revelation that he played the end of the season and postseason with a broken hamate bone, we've known Dustin was the real deal.

But it's always nice to see the rest of the league acknowledge that, too.

2007 ROY Retrospective

2008 Season

Pedroia doubled in two runs in the second, then was replaced by Granadillo.

The scrappy Pedroia said he never played an exhibition game against a major league team when he was at Arizona State.

But, if he did, "we might have put a whupping on somebody," he said with a smile as he left the clubhouse. "That's how I'd have handled it." AP, Feb. 28, 2008

Bask with me in the loving insanity that is Dustin Pedroia and Manny Ramirez together in front of a camera in the dugout.

The first time I saw this, I literally shrieked out loud. I could not believe the way they suddenly seemed to break through the TV barrier and wave hi to us at home, and then to see the cuddling...? It was too much all at once. Seriously.--"Manny Magic," April 18, 2008

***

5. Dustin Pedroia's double - It's funny how the news of the Bruins' hard-fought win against Montreal (we even switched back and forth to the hockey game during the baseball game, something we never do) seemed to energize the Sox Saturday night. The Sox only began their comeback in the eighth after the news about the B's was announced, and Fenway stirred to life again. You're not supposed to put any stock in coincidences like that, but it's hard to ignore that in this case, the crowd came alive just before the team did, and the cause and effect seemed to be there - you could even see it in the way the players moved around more busily in the dugout as the crowd got louder.

With one out in the eighth and the Sox still down by a run, Pedroia got the run-scoring party started with a double off the top of the Green Monster that just barely missed being a home run. Undaunted (as always), Pedroia cruised into second with a message for Rangers second baseman Ian Kinsler: "I crushed that one."

In addition to instantly becoming my favorite Pedroia moment since his "That fuckin hurt!" reaction to sliding into third last year, Pedroia's intimidation strategy also seemed to be effective. Clearly thrown by Pedroia's aggressive style, Kinsler dove and missed the next liner from Papi, which scored the Happy Scrappy Hero Pup to tie the game, and earned him more cuddles from Manny in the dugout, which is either the source of Pedroia's power, or its reward, and frankly, I don't give a damn which one it is.

4. Dustin Pedroia's triple - Okay, not really a triple, but as the little big man himself would probably say, same dif. Once again it was the eighth; this time it was Josh Hamilton who did the flubbing in center field, allowing Pedroia to reach third, score David Ortiz, and tie the game. Said Pedroia afterwards: "Manny gave me a big hug when I got in here, but he hugs me every day, so I don't know what that means."

To say I am enjoying this new subplot to the clubhouse chemistry would be a vast, vast understatement. "Papelbon is my Co-Pilot: Top Ten Moments of the Rangers Series", April 21, 2008

This information was news to me last night, when Jason Varitek was still not back from the flu, and they pointed out that if Kevin Cash was for some reason unable to perform his duties, Dustin Pedroia, of all people, would be the runner-up.

One thing, among many, that I would like to know about this is whether or not Pedroia has any actual experience catching anywhere near the big-league level. Or when the clubhouse was surveyed for volunteers, did he just say "Fuck it, how hard can it be?"

Considering Josh Beckett was slated to pitch last night, it's quite a thing to nominate yourself for. But we know that's never stopped Dustin.

While I want Tek to come back approximately yesterday, and wish no ill on Kevin Cash, a perverse part of me hoped last night that there was some way we could see Pedroia behind the plate. If for no other reason than to see just how tiny he'd be all hunkered down in a crouch, and also to see him approach the position with enough audacity to make up for whatever he lacked in skill.

Instead, Pedroia contented himself with going 4 for 5 last night, which included the go-ahead run. He also stole a base, which only leads me to believe that in addition to expanding his skills as a catcher, he's probably begun challenging Jacoby Ellsbury to footraces during workouts, the better to beat his records this year.

I mean, why not? If Pedroia thinks he could offer a pitcher a target bigger than a teacup or stand a chance against a runner charging from third, why wouldn't he dream big there, too?

Quoth Beckett: "Dustin Pedroia is one of the best baseball players I’ve ever seen.” And Dustin's apparently begun a list of everyone who didn't believe in him. The better, I'd imagine, to find them all and kick them in the kneecaps. So if you're skeptical about any of these new revelations regarding Pedroia, beware. "Raise your hand if you knew Pedroia is our backup backup catcher," April 23, 2008

Pedroia's bat has gone somewhat limp, like many of his teammates over the last seven games, where he's hitting .185/.214/.333. His superpower in this series against the Orioles has been defense--he's a 5' 7" one-man Iron Curtain on the right side of the infield.  Yesterday, Pedroia also made the highlight reel with a diving, scrambling putout from one knee in the sixth inning. "If he can get to it," was Remy's conclusion watching him vacuum up grounders at second for another night, "You're out."

In addition to his own fielding prowess, this series his tandem with Julio Lugo has been greater than the sum of its parts. Saturday night, Lugo's midair feed to Pedroia ended the game and a threat against Papelbon, who couldn't seem to locate the plate.

Pedroia also had his own adventures on the basepaths. During the Sox rally in the third inning, Pedroia coasted into third on his stomach on a Kevin Youkilis single, flinging himself with such abandon over the ground that he actually spun about 180 degrees before washing up on third base. Sometimes when he's flopping himself around as baseman or baserunner, I get worried that he's going to break himself one of these days. Most of the time, though, I just figure playing with abandon is what's gotten him here, and it's just too fun to watch. "Ellsbury 'n' Elf", June 2, 2008

Baltimore pitcher Lance Cormier fumbled on the mound, distracted by Jacoby. Then he finally came home with a pitch low and away. Pedroia checked his swing (or so it seemed) for ball four, and trotted toward first base.

And that's when the real shenanigans kicked off. First-base umpire Alfonso Marquez called it strike two, saying Pedroia had gone around. Pedroia, having ignored the appeal to first from the catcher behind him as he took his presumptive walk, looked at Marquez, deadpan, and then, tilting his head just so, mimicked Marquez's gesture.

It was a breathtaking moment of audacity, its acid calm a sharper insult than a shout would have been, and it left Marquez muttering. The ump returned the disrespect with a flip of his hand, waving Pedroia off.

"Right now, I'd get thrown out of the game if I was Pedroia," Remy broke in, giggling. "I would, honest to God, I don't think I could control myself."

Pedroia grounded out to shortstop, turned, and walked toward the dugout, not saying a word. "Well, that is clearly the difference between you and Dustin," Don Orsillo said. "Dustin just walks away."

Not two seconds later, just as he hit the warning track, a "FUCK!" that was audible on camera burst out of Pedroia. He turned back toward the field to puimp out more expletives like bullets.

The umpires fired back. Bob Davidson made the international sign for ejection from the ball game. F bombs continued launching themselves from Pedroia's mouth as Tito herded him into the dugout. Youkilis looked after him as he fled into the tunnel and shook his head. "Go drink some decaf", August 19, 2008

Between the triple in Game 4 and the homer in Game 5, the Large Father may in fact be back, in which case, let us rejoice.Mightily, even. But also not to be overlooked is Dustin Pedroia, who has continued to hit defiantly throughout this series, and with two outs in that seventh inning, singled home the game's first run.

One of my lasting memories of this postseason no matter what happens will be the sight of Dustin Pedroia on the top step of the dugout during the rally, all but glowing with energy, hungry to get back in the box and prove to the pitcher that he ain't shit."Comeback", October 17, 2008

Especially when they knock you out of first place in the division. And especially especially when Jets fans invade your stadium like literal vermin (I seriously saw a guy on the Jumbo-Tron dressed up as a giant rat with a Jets t-shirt and cap on) and taunt and gloat and start fights in the stands around you and then head out of the stadium yelling "SCOREBOARD!!" and INCESSANTLY doing that chant that proves that they can spell a four-letter word...

Sorry, where was I?

Right. As much as I despise losing to these cretins, out of that worst-case scenario, there were many, MANY silver linings in last night's epic grudge match between The Hoodie and the Mangenius. And even I have to admit there is QUITE a rivalry taking shape here (as if Boston and NY need another one!). Read more at MVN-->

Pics of the game and Troy Brown Day to come soon here.