Oh, my goodness gracious, it keeps getting better. Red Sox Nation is on fire and no one has called 911 yet. The blaze of egos and uniforms continues to burn while the fans can only sit back and watch in horror. Yeah, the Yankees are finished for the year as well, but all this soap opera stuff from Boston is taking the heat off of the Bronx Bombers and their mediocre exit from the postseason. I hate to relish in the pain of others, but this is a gift that keeps on giving!
About a week ago, the Boston Globe did a big article on The Collapse. Anonymous team sources were cited, saying 1) that manager Francona may have had a pain pill addiction, 2) three starting pitchers would escape to the clubhouse during games to drink beer, eat fried chicken and play video games, and 3) the Sox primary owner gave the team presents and threw them a party on his yacht after the players whined about their tough September schedule. Are you serious?!?! It makes the Bronx Zoo seem like a kiddie’s petting zoo. At least the Yankees got into fights about how to win games, not how to escape from a losing team.
Only one pitcher, Jon Lester, has addressed this situation. Yes, he admits it, but claims it was only one beer, like a late inning rally beer. One beer, really? It’s never one beer. “Yes, Officer. Only one beer. Don’t know why I was swerving so badly.” Next thing you know he’ll be claiming he only inhaled the smell of the fried chicken. And when you think about it, don’t clubhouses have big spreads of food available before and after the game? Can’t you wait and eat later?? You leave the dugout while the team is playing?? “C’mon, let’s go play some Xbox instead of supporting this squad of losers.” Wow. Not how a Best Team Ever behaves.
Francona is gone. GM Theo Epstein is ready to join the Cubs. The three amigos (Lester, Lackey, and Beckett) are left with grease all over their faces. Who else will be thrown under the bus by Halloween? Get ready to cue the Psycho music.
It gets late early out there.