Getting to Know You.

Speaking of Andrew Bailey, it turns out that he's the Director of Development for former best beloved, Craig Breslow's Strike 3 Foundation. As part of his fund-raising duties, he'll be hosting a bowling event, the Bailey Bowl, down in New Jersey on January 7.

Andrew Bailey for some Magic Beans.

I like Josh Reddick. Was he going to be a superstar? No. More likely than not, Red turns out to be unremarkable. Sure, he could turn out to be a good player but he could just as easily turn out to be (especially with that arm) Jeff Francoeur.

For Reddick personally, I like the move. For the Red Sox he was a fungible asset but for Oakland he might end up being their best offense player next season. Plus, with a starting job seemingly locked up, he can buy out his father's landscaping business or whatever he planned to do when he finally made it.

Assuming that Andrew Bailey's arm doesn't shatter like a teacup, he's the best player involved in the trade. A proven closer, if that sort of thing is important to you. The fly balls might be a concern. He's not Bot but he can be effective, if healthy.

Ryan Sweeney is the other piece coming over with Bailey; presumably as a platoon right-fielder. There's not much to expect from Sweeney: he's not a speed guy and not a power guy but he will walk and he'll be decent against right-handed pitching. He does have bad knees which have kept him off the field.

And as for the magic beans, Miles Head is a big first baseman. He has the potential to hit pretty well but (unless God commands Adrian Gonzalez to walk in front of a bus) doesn't have much of a future with the organization. Raul Ancantara might very well develop into a nice little pitcher but at low-A he's a long way away.

A Pretty Penny.

The luxury taxman cometh and he taketh away $3.4 million this year.

Cliche #1: Baseball is a business.

They say that point of owning a business is to turn a profit. They (the Grand Poobahs of sayings) are wrong but it's what they say. Any accountant will tell you that profits are taxable (and taxes are bad) and that it would be so much better to show a loss (which could be netted against previous or subsequent profits) for the year. No, the real point of owning any business is to invest in it wisely, grow the business, and then turn around and sell it for more than you paid for it.

But maybe baseball is different.

As is evidenced by the death grip with which the Wilpons continue to cling to the Mets, there's an emotional element to owning a sports team. There's a kind of vanity that comes from owning the team you grew up rooting for. If John Henry could have purchased the Cardinals, wouldn't he have jumped at the chance?

I think that it might be good for the game to have that emotional attachment. (Unless, of course, you're Peter Angelos; then in which case: No. No, it's not good for the game.) It seems important that the owner should care more about the team and its success than about the profit/loss statement at the end of the year. There should come a point for every franchise when the owner tells his general manager, "Go nuts. This is our year."

But if baseball a different kind of business (one which falls closer to a hobby of the insanely wealthy than simply a way of making money), then should owners care about the luxury tax? Isn't it just a cost of doing business?

Cliche #2: Baseball is a marathon, not a sprint.

The other argument to make is: the baseball season is long. The Patriots (conceding that I know very little about football) can get by with a terrible defense because they play sixteen games in a season. A baseball team plays sixteen games in a couple of weeks; they play sixteen games ten times over during the regular season. If there's a flaw in the make up of your roster, it's going to come out. There's nowhere to hide in a 162 game season.

If you buy better players (thereby increasing wage expense and reducing net income), you should see more success on the field; which would appeal to the vanity of the owners. Theoretically (it doesn't always happen, ask the Rays), success on the field would lead to increased ticket revenue and would consequently lead to higher expenses to keep the business growing. Cycle complete.

The question becomes: is it worth it? Does being called into the principal's office, where Bud Selig scowls, shakes his finger at you, and reprimands you by saying, "You've spent too much" offset the potential ego boost of being the owner of a World Series Championship team?

Obviously, John Henry's extra $3.4 million investment in his team didn't pay off this past season (I suspect that there was no one more pissed off at them than he was.) but I doubt that it changes anything.

Dinner with Tito.

Terry Francona may have been run out of town on a rail but it doesn't mean I don't still admire him. The man knows his sport and it's fascinating listening to him talk about baseball. To that end, on January 30 in Manhattan, Francona will be appearing at the Sixth Annual Bullpen Winter Banquet to support the baseball program at St. John's University.

The Long Road Home.

Two weeks ago, Ryan Westmoreland faced live pitching for the first time since he had his brain surgery. The fact that I can write that is stunning; the sheer will required to get from where he was to this point is monumental. You can't help but pull for the kid.

He did a short interview with SiriusXM Sports today, wherein he talks about how swinging a baseball bat came back to him more easily than tying his shoes.

The Gorilla Song.

It's been something of a red letter week in the legacy of Ben Cherington. First, he signed Kelly Shoppach. Then he went out and traded Jed and Kyle Weiland to the Astros for No-Neck. And then he went and signed Nick Punto, for two years. And he, according to Cafardo, didn't even bother to bid a couple of dollars on Darvish. To the general reaction of raising a hue and cry against him.

Taken on their own, they mostly aren't terrible moves. Shoppach platoons nicely with Saltalamacchia. No-Neck is serviceable and, at this point, Jed had become superfluous and Weiland could, might, maybe develop into something useful.

But Nick Punto? For two years? Benjamin, my dear, what were you thinking?

Says Cherington:

“Nick’s a talented player too. He has good at-bats, plays good defense. He knows how to run the bases. He’s a smart player. He can play all over the infield and work in a lot of areas, so we’re just glad to have him. But the clubhouse dynamic is something that is an area of discussion but not necessarily the drive when we’re making these decisions.”

So...Defense and plays well with others. Got it.

As for not even pretending to be interested in Darvish, it's just not something that I can explain.

*Apparently, Raffi has a The Gorilla Song but my title is in reference to the one from Cabaret.*

Petey's Throwing A Party.

Pedro Martinez is throwing himself a retirement party (not sure if that's as tacky as throwing your own bridal shower) and you're invited. Time and Date: TBA.

My Funny Valentine.

(Getty Images)

So. Bobby Valentine.

The question is: Can a tiger change his spots? Is he the man who can't keep his big mouth shut? The man who believes so unequivocally in his own infallibility that he embarrasses his own players in an effort to prove himself right? The type of man who always has to have the last word?

Or is he the guy who showed up at today's press conference. Not the most articulate guy but, seemingly, genuine; enthusiastic about the opportunity; able to say the right things; un-tone deaf enough to emphasize that he was Ben's choice.

My initial reaction to the hiring was that ultimately this was going to be a disaster. Too many big egos for too small of a clubhouse. It may turn out that I'm just really missing baseball but he's starting to win me over. Maybe people can change and everything will be sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows.

But at the same time, it's hard to trust someone with such perfect teeth; especially a baseball player, as they're not exactly paragons of oral health.