Sunday, July 22, 2012

Disbelieving Picasso.


Alright Jon Lester.

This photo of Pablo Picasso was taken in 1933 by Man Ray. Perhaps one could see concern or care or maybe even sadness in Picasso's expression but for me, I see disbelief. I see a guy staring at you thinking, "What is wrong with you? Stop being a scaredy cat and just do whatever it is that you don't want to do." Whenever I need someone to tell me to stop being nervous or freaking out or whatever extreme emotion I'm suffering from, I envision this photograph of Picasso. And it gives me courage.

So I will lend him to you. Use Picasso as you will but do not harm him.

Be Nice.

 What'd I tell you?

Jason Varitek shows up for the Jason Varitek love fest and almost immediately starts running interference for everybody's favorite whipping boys, Jon Lester and Josh Beckett.

Says Jason:

“I’m just a believer that they need, they need Red Sox Nation to get behind them, quit looking at the faults. What hasn’t happened, hasn’t happened. They have a chance not only at the wild card but they’re still [9 1/2 games] out [behind the Yankees]. A lot of baseball left. They make a difference, and have made a difference, both positively and negatively. If they gear that toward the positive side, they can propel this team because this is a good team.

“I don’t think they’re that far off. Start before last, Josh had a great outing. You live in the moment, OK, he hasn’t had one of those in a quite a while, if I’ve been paying attention enough. But, to do that, and to live in that [bad] moment doesn’t allow them to get behind Josh for his next outing because you live in his next outing because you can’t do anything about the one before.”
So be nice because really they just want to be loved. And if you loved them they would suddenly remember how to not be terrible at pitching. And for goodness sake, don't laugh about Josh Beckett's foundation only having like six hundred followers on twitter. It's not funny. (I'm certain that he doesn't actually write it because it seems unlikely to me that he's ever uttered the word 'howdy' let alone typed it out.)

Most importantly we learn that Jason doesn't live in a vacuum. Thank goodness. It would probably be very dusty--terrible for allergies.

[This is the sort of joke that is very funny at three in the morning when you've been up for hours and hours and hours. I promise it's hysterical.]

Death and Transfiguration.

Two days ago this team was going places. They took two out of three in Tampa, then three out of four from Chicago, capped off by Cody Ross hitting a ball far into the night. They were getting their players back and those players were making contributions. Now? Not so much. Josh Beckett laid yet another egg yesterday. And, without David, the offense seems to have been stymied by pitchers who don't seem like they should have a place on a major league roster. So, they're back to being a lousy team; a team that's treading water until...well, unless they're waiting for Bailey, there's nobody else coming. This is it. It's not very inspiring.

In Tod und Verklärung (Death and Transfiguration, 1889) Richard Strauss composed a tone poem about a man lying on his deathbed. At first the man lies there sleeping, though soon enough (Mvt. II) death reappears and tries to claim him for its own. But the man fights back and survives. In the third movement, the man contemplates his life and all the striving he's done--first to figure out his purpose, his meaning, and then to go out and achieve it. In the final movement though, Death (as it is wont to do) triumphs over man. But according to Strauss, as is evidenced by the sweeping theme in C major, this is not a bad thing, because it is only through death that the man will, and does, achieve his transfiguration.

Now, this isn't a call for mass-suicide (though maybe they'd play better if so threatened); they won't be transfigured as ballplayers and win more games by being dead. Perhaps though, I might be better off if I let my fandom die. It won't make them a better team--I'm not sure that there's anything that could do that at the moment--but it might me me less insane.

Of course, I have tried to quit before and it's never worked so...

(You see what your poor play has caused, cabbages? I've had to go all high-brow and philosophical on you. At least, it lets me trot out this amusing little gem.)



[Complete aside that has very little to do with anything: I took a class in school called German Romantic Literature. I have no idea why I signed up for that class. Knowing my complete inability to deal with whining, it did not go well. The first thing we read was The Sorrows of Young Werther and I spent most of the book telling him to shut up or urging him to get over himself and then finally demanding to know why he wouldn't just die already because really, what was taking so long? Although I do appreciate the emphasis on the individual, romanticism was not the period for me.]

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Bring Back 'Tek.


Not to play, of course. But at this point, might as well just stick him in the clubhouse where he can whisper sweet nothing into Jon Lester's ear between innings. He'd seriously have to work one day out of five or maybe two days out of five if Beckett wanted to participate in the little love fest.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

When I Grow Up...

Since none of this crew seems to be doing well at the whole baseball thing this season, I thought that it might be appropriate to pick out different careers for them. Careers for which they might have been better suited.

[Note: This isn't as fun a game to play with the Non-American players, what with the general lack of opportunity, so I'll just ignore them.]

Starting with the most obvious:

Clay Buchholz: With the scrawny-ness, the bug eyes, the horrible hair, and the ugly scrunched face, Clay Buchholz would probably have been better off pursuing a career as a carny. I can just picture him: lounging against a decrepit ride or game of chance, cigarette dangling from his lip, ogling the women who walk past him with a knowing look in his eye. Plus, he's got the whole thieving thing in his past, so he wouldn't feel bad about taking people's money.

Ryan Sweeney: Ryan Sweeney should be reading the evening news somewhere. He's already got the haircut.

Adrian Gonzalez: The first attribute that I thought of for Adrian was being analytical. Admittedly, the very first thing that popped into my head was scientist but since I'm being nice, Adrian seems well suited to being an accountant. Analytical and quiet, more comfortable with numbers than people, it makes sense.

Dustin Pedroia: Dustin can be utterly charming and he knows how to tell people what they want to hear without sounding insincere. But he's more savvy than smart, so not a lawyer. I doubt, though, that he'd be happy in the small world of sales, so I'd set him up at a PR firm, smoothing over other people's messes.

Kelly Shoppach: Kelly Shoppach ought to have been a high school gym teacher. This one is a bit of a cheat because 1) it's an obvious choice for many of them and 2) he reminds me a lot of my high school gym teacher, Mr. Gomez, not so much in the coloring but definitely in the teddy bear physique.

Mike Aviles: This feels like I'm stereotyping him but when I think Mike Aviles isn't a short stop he's a _____, I put in cop. With the big smile and the eveybody's buddy attitude, more of a community policing, crime prevention effort but Officer Mike, the Puerto Rican cop from the Bronx feels right. And I apologize.

Jacoby Ellsbury: Ellsbury seems to me, first and foremost, to be a people pleaser and secondly to be a do-gooder. So he should have been, and I really do think that he might have enjoyed the line of work, a social worker.

Ryan Kalish: This one is a bit of a stretch because although you hear stories, and he sounds like a very nice kid, I don't know much about Kalish. It all has to do with the shape of his head and the fact that he's from New Jersey. Ryan Kalish's destiny, were it not for baseball, would have been to go to St. John's University, join a fraternity, major in some version of finance, and then get a job at an investment house as a stock analyst because one of his frat brother's father runs the place. That is what his physiognomy tells me.

Nick Punto: Nick Punto's true calling should have been to the world of newspaper journalism. Through stubbornness or doggedness or simple refusal to change, he could have chased down stories and worked his way up the ladder until he got to the role of not quite good enough to be a columnist but can ably fill in if required.

Carl Crawford: The attribute that I would ascribe to Carl Crawford would be drive. The first profession I thought of for a driven person was lawyer but he's so soft-spoken, and he's got kind of a high voice, and he's mumbly so that would never work. But Carl the entrepreneur? Inventing something we never knew we needed and then getting everyone to buy one? I could see that.

Andrew Miller: With the long flowing hair and the beard, I think Andrew Miller really does want to be a poet (either that or Jesus, but since we're still being nice we'll go with poet). He's a smart guy and changeable, willing to listen to correction and work hard, he could probably have made a go at being a poet.

Scott Atchison: It's a friendly face, an understanding face. The sort of face that communicates, I've been through tough times too and come out the other end alright. The sort of face that ought to belong to a psychologist or a counselor of some sort.

Mark Melancon: If the baseball thing doesn't end up working out for Mark Melancon, then he would seem well suited for a job as an insurance salesman. He's got a sort of apologetic manner to him and an awkward smile, and a seeming inability to dress himself in clothes that fit properly. It all works.

Daniel Bard: Daniel Bard seems like an intelligent guy. I think that his determination to figure out what was wrong with him this season by digging into video from the past shows that being a research librarian may have been a good career path.

Cody Ross: The obvious choice for Ross would have been rodeo clown but we're not going for obvious. I don't know much about Ross but he seems to be at heart, an entertainer. He also seems to inspire strong feelings in people and make a definite impression wherever he goes. He seems to be very measured in the things he says and brand conscious or image aware, whatever you want to call it. I think that there's a politician in there.

Daniel Nava: Daniel Nava seems like a kind, compassionate person. A seemingly sort of bland person but someone you can trust. A person who could anticipate all sorts of needs you didn't know you had and take care of them before you were even aware of them. The sort of person who would make an excellent funeral director.

Matt Albers: If it weren't for baseball, Matt Albers might have a future as a social reformer/activist type. I don't know if he has the brain for it but maybe a lawyer. What he does seem to have is a strong sense of right and wrong, just and unjust; a chip on his shoulder. Fairness seems to be very important to him. And advocating for the poor, or the homeless, or the downtrodden might be right up his alley. [Aside: I just went and looked up Albers to see if there was any indication that he might have the brain to pull off lawyering and was shocked to learn that he is only twenty-nine. I had no idea he was so young. I would have easily put him in his mid-thirties.]

Jon Lester: The ideal job for Jon Lester would be long-haul truck driver. He could be as grumpy and as unsociable as he liked. He wouldn't have to talk to anyone or deal with other people if he didn't want to. And if got himself a Southern route, he could work on his stupid accent.

As for the rest, I'm at a loss; some because I just don't know enough about them because they haven't been around for very long and others because they are just intensely boring people and I can't think of a suggestion--these two will have to figure out how to make baseball work. Perhaps, Jarrod Saltalamacchia could become a barber; not because he's shown a particular aptitude for barbering but because then he would learn that the ringlets combined with the receding hairline and baldness is just an extremely awful look and he would cut his hair.



Monday, July 9, 2012

Trouble.

What this team needs (besides, you know, a couple of decent starting pitchers) is an exorcism. It's not just the specter of last September hanging over them--this team has been under a dark cloud for a couple of years now. I don't know who pissed off the baseball Gods or what they could have possibly done that was so terrible but it might not be a terrible idea.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Mental Gymnastics.

Alright, my liebeskind, since pessimism doesn't work. Let's try unbridled enthusiasm (with lyrics):

Everybody's lover, everybody's brother, I wanna be your lifetime friend 
Crazy as a rocket, nothin' in my pocket, I keep it at the rainbow's end 
I never think of money, I think of milk 'n honey, grinnin' like a Cheshire cat 
I focus on the pleasure, somethin' I can treasure, can you picture that? Can you picture that?
 
Hey Floyd, take a verse
 
Let me take your picture, add it to the mixture, there it is I got you now 
Really nothin' to it, anyone can do it, it's easy and we all know how 
Now begins the changin', mental rearrangin', nothing's really where it's at
Now the Eiffel Tower's holdin up a flower I gave it to a Texas cat 

Fact is there's nothin' out there you can't do 
Yeah, even Santa Claus believes in you
Beat down the walls, begin, believe, behold, begat 
Be a better drummer, be an up and comer 
 Can you picture that? Can you picture that?

All of us are winnin, pickin and a-grinnin, Lordy but I love to jam
Jelly-belly gigglin', dancin' and a-wigglin', honey that's the way I am
Lost my heart in Texas, Northern lights affect us I keep it underneath my hat 
Aurora Borealis, shining down on Dallas, can you picture that? Can you picture that?
 
Can you picture? You gotta see it in your mind 
Can you picture? You know it's quick and easy to find 
Can you picture? You don't have to buy a frame 
Can you picture? Can you picture that? Can you picture that?
 
Use it if you need it
 Don't forget to feed it 
Can you picture that?


Thursday, July 5, 2012

Whining Sucks.

"If you go crazy and give contracts to whoever comes along despite not knowing how they're going to do, then you don't give me my due consideration, even though I do my thing every year, (expletive) that. I'm going to be open to anything. My mentality is not going to be, 'I like it here.' It's going to be, 'Bring it to the table, and we'll see what happens"

"It was humiliating. There's no reason a guy like me should go through that. All I was looking for was two years, at the same salary ($12.5 million). They ended up giving me $3 million more than that (actually $2.025 million), and look at my numbers this year. Tell me if they wouldn't have been better off. And yet they don't hesitate to sign other guys. It was embarrassing."--David Ortiz


David Ortiz seems like the type of person who, if he were to find a magic lamp, would demand infinite wishes and then would be put out when the genie told him that that wasn't possible. The kind of guy who is never satisfied with what he's got. Undoubtedly, the drive to never settle is what has gotten him to where he is today. He's worked for almost everything he's ever gotten. (How's that for passive-aggressive?)  

It's not the sentiment that I disagree with. Being the only good player on a team that at its best has been decidedly mediocre is probably very frustrating; being the only good player because the team signed a bunch of crappy free agents to ludicrous contracts and signed stupid extensions for washed up players and, therefore, can't afford the good players is probably very annoying.  And if you've slung the collection of who'sits and hasbeens onto your back and attempted to carry them for half a season, maybe it feels like you're not being paid what you're worth. But David, dearest, that feeling of not being paid what you're worth is universal; nobody who is good at their job is paid what they're worth.

My problem is that it's all just very depressing. When David, franchise icon that he is, pulls a stunt like this it becomes clear that I care more about this team, his team, than he does. This is just a gig to David and not even 'just' a gig but a 'humiliating and embarrassing' gig. He doesn't like it here? Fine. Nobody forced him to stay.

But now is not the time to start (or in David's case) continue whining about his contract or how awful the media is or how horrible a place to play Boston is. Now is not the time to whine about other player's contracts or tear them down for being terrible players. Now, after having their asses handed to them by the Athletics and with the Yankees coming in, is the time they should band together and at least pretend to be a team.

You've got to wonder if anyone thinks that they'll even win one this weekend. Having already given up on this season and leaped into every-man-for-himself thinking about November, David certainly doesn't. I don't really blame him for that; this season does seem to be a lost cause. But David was sore when nobody thought to name him captain after Varitek retired, is it any wonder though when he doesn't seem to have the least bit of interest in putting the team before himself?

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

The Best Laid Plans.

I think that at the time few people were disturbed by the idea of trading Red and prospects to Oakland for Ryan Sweeney and the pieces of shoulder that once deigned to call themselves Andrew Bailey. And it wasn't a bad deal.

Most people assumed that Adrian Gonzalez was not going to continue to be the dud that he was in the second half of last year. That combined with another year of Ellsbury playing impressively and Crawford contributing (because it really didn't seem like he could contribute less) negates the need for Red's offense. And Sweeney, in theory, provided something that Red did not: Sweeney would take a walk.

Now none of that worked out. Adrian Gonzalez continues to be a giant pit of uselessness. Ellsbury got sat on and Crawford never even got going. And then Red went and blossomed.

I think that it's safe to say, though, that the prize in the whole thing; the piece that Cherington really seemed to want, was Bailey. Judging by his performance so far it seems like a fair statement to say that Cherington's baseball turn on is relief pitching. Can't get enough of it. Bailey was a risk but too tantalizing to pass up.

Unsurprisingly, Bailey hasn't worked out either. Fragile people don't generally wake up and suddenly figure out how to not be fragile. Should he, however, recover from the injury to his elbow or thumb or whichever body part happens to be bothering him today, Andrew Bailey is very very good at pitching.

And really, other than annoyance that the deal has been extremely one-sided so far, they haven't needed Red. They've been a very good offensive team this year. But you live and learn and then go get more relief pitchers (or failing that scrappy utility guys.)