Abandoning Ship.

When I was a kid, my parents were of the lenient sort; you might even call them permissive -- I would not say that I was an unspoiled child. The one thing that they would not tolerate was whining, especially about being bored. It might have been a blizzard, three feet of snow, sixty miles per hour winds, and nobody's left the house for three days; my mother's response to "I'm boooored"? "Run around the house five times." So you went to my Dad. "I'm booored." [Fake concern] "Oh, dear. Pine? Oak?" "No. I'm bored." "Maple? Elm?" It was frustrating but you learned quickly. So, whining generally sets my teeth on edge; whining from extremely privileged people is utterly obnoxious.

And in a case of terrifically bad timing, Mike Lowell has decided that he's bored and that he's going to whine about it. He says that the team would probably be better off without him; which is probably true. I get the feeling, however, that Theo would gleefully send him off to the Yankees or the Rays or anybody really, if it was in anyway possible. The fact that he's still sitting there would indicate that nobody really wants him. But the worst thing is that the team is in a bad place right now, last night was heart-wrenching, and the whole thing smacks of, "Get me out of here. I no longer wish to hang with these losers."

Look, buddy. I love you, you know that right? And so I say this in the most loving way possible: Shut it. Cause you know what, Mike Lowell? If you're so miserable, retire; otherwise, sit in the dugout and count your money. That should keep you amused.