It's been a long while since we've had a photo caption contest around these parts. But since there did seem to be some interest in possibly resurrecting this, I figured I'd get the ball rolling. We can do the same thing as before, and have recs act as votes. We'll let it go until, say, Saturday noonish and then let the winner be responsible for putting up the next one. Now I just need to get enough words in this diary for SBN to let me publish it. I think the requirement is 150 words, so I have about 50 to go. But that's really not so awful. It could be worse: you could be reading 150 words written by Sexy Rexy, or the Sanchize. Wouldn't that be wonderful? Just think about all the feet references Welker would come up with to describe it. That would make things better, wouldn't it? Now, have fun!

It's always tough reading that a player you like has been traded—particularly if that player has acquired that coveted "binky" status. (You may substitute "wooby" or other assorted name of your choice.) There's nothing rational about rooting for a binky—they're not a player who's guaranteed to be successful, and they're certainly not destined for greatness. (Okay, anybody who had Tom Brady as a binky before the 2001 season hereby is granted a free pass to tell us "I told you so"—even though I don't really buy that.) They're usually one of the last guys to make the team; an underdog even in a league where everybody by definition is an above-average player who has beaten the long odds. They're the players who you root for because of their persistence, their spirit and work ethic, and their love of the game.

Unfortunately, binkies do get traded; it happens all the time. They don't leave by free agency—by definition, if they've stuck with the team long enough to get a new contract or leave in free agency, they can't really be a binky anymore. But during that vulnerable stage pre-arbitration? It's rough, and it reminds us why many fans (myself included) would not necessarily make a good baseball general manager.

So, of course, I was not at all pleased to hear that the Red Sox traded Jed Lowrie to the Astros yesterday as part of the Mark Melancon trade. (And I'm not really going to like to see HOU after his name when the auto-link magic does its work.) No, I'm still not really ready to accept that a binky is gone. I understand it's business, and I understand that the Sox felt that their needs at reliever were more important than keeping an extra shortstop when they already had Marco Scutaro and Mike Aviles. It still doesn't assuage the sting.

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It is practically uncouth to bemoan Albert Pujols's decision to sign a ten-year deal with the Angels. We've known forever that in modern times sports has become a business above all, and that if there wasn't money to be made from putting butts into seats, many a baseball player might now be working at the Citgo.*

However, even in spite of the fact that it was perhaps the logical business decision for Pujols to sign for $254 million over the next decade (and leapfrogging far, far over the head of Adrian Gonzalez in the process), that doesn't necessarily mean it was the right thing to do. There's no doubt that Pujols is a once-in-a-generation talent, and will love playing in the American League, and will make a huge impact for years to come both as a first baseman and in the future as a designated hitter. But that really ignores the point that what Pujols has done is only a few steps above what Johnny Damon did when joining the Yankees after the 2005 season.

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(This might be the first in a series of comic diaries in lone1c's EPIC FAIL-filled attempts to spread his love of baseball on an unassuming and uncaring foreign land.)

I would have thought that, if there were one place in Europe that baseball would have a reasonable chance of thriving, it would be Germany. Sports fans are passionate, without being nearly as prone to rioting as the British. Even better, not only do they root for a sport which has no regulation standard for field dimensions, they speak a language that has more rules and restrictions than baseball! So, all things considered, I would have thought that the intricacy and nuances of the game would appeal to your typical German.

Sadly, I was quickly and repeatedly disabused of this notion. It's hard to remember exactly when I realized that I wasn't going to find many people who knew what on-base average was, let alone root for someone named Pedroia or "Lestah." The pool is too small—even among the emigres here, football and basketball are held in greater esteem. (Heck, I think even the NHL does better here than baseball.) Boston is not completely unknown in the sports world here; but the only team from here that people are aware of? Not the Red Sox. It's their colleagues in Foxboro that grab the attention, and some Tom Brady guy who might be kind of good. (I actually met a German high schooler who played as a linebacker in an American football league. It should be entered into evidence that said kid makes Deion Branch, Wes Welker, and Danny Woodhead look like giants, so don't hold out any hopes for the Patriots to be playing in Bayern anytime soon.) So, while I have circumstantial evidence of American football fields in Germany, I have yet to see any sign of a diamond hidden in the rough. (And, sadly, if you were to build one, I suspect "they" would not come.)

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If I’m suddenly dropped into the role of being the General Manager for the Boston Red Sox, I’d be probably the first to admit (privately, of course!) that I’m in way, way over my head. I’d also say that the 2012 season would be an attempt to apologize for 2011 (more on that below). I’d also have to find a willing mouthpiece, as being an pseudonymous GM doesn’t work quite so well if I have to appear in public to announce every move.

So what changes would I bring to the table as the new GM for the Red Sox?

Manager

I go with Pete Mackanin here. He’s worked in a big baseball market (Philadelphia), and has had a ton of experience working with younger players in the minors and has had enough interim experience to handle the job. The greater age gap between Mackanin and the team will be a positive development; the last thing the current clubhouse needs is Tito 2.0. (Note: this is not in any way a disparagement of Francona. This is instead just a statement that a different direction is needed.) Dale Sveum, Mike Maddux, and Sandy Alomar are out for that reason.

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While we're waiting for the Theo-Go-Round melodrama to play itself out, I recently had the opportunity to perform my first pilgrimage to the Second Church of Baseball in Chicago. While there were many sights to see in the "Friendly Confines"-and I certainly hope that the Sox will force the locals to throw many a baseball back onto the field when they return to Chicago for interleague play in June-there was one particular image that stood out in a way that got me thinking, and somewhat raging. However, the problem is that I'm not sure toward whom my rage should be directed.

The issue at hand was the sight of the fridges in the clubhouses. If you take a peek at the drinks in the home team's clubhouse, you'd have seen many bottled waters, some fruit juices, a smattering of Red Bulls, and perhaps an iced coffee drink or two. (And okay, there's might be a soda. Horrors.) Nothing too crazy, I suppose, and nothing that would suggest anything other than a prim-and-proper home team. Move over to the visitors' clubhouse, on the other hand, and you start getting those wonderful Animal House vibes. In lieu of the "wholesome" offerings, there were all manner cans of soda (all high sugar, high calories, high caffeine, no nutritional value), and nary a water in sight. But the largest contingent of beverage? Beer. Beer regular and light, beer bad domestic and worse domestic, beer cheap and cheaper. But half of that refrigerator was more suited for a sixth-inning run to the nearby concession stand than for a professional sports team's locker room.

Now I know that beer is a part of the culture of baseball. We've all seen the beer flowing freely in clubhouse celebrations, right alongside the obligatory bubbly. In 2007, I remember watching players giving interviews while getting completely soaked, courtesy of their teammates. And, of course, who can forget the sight of chief idiot Jonathan Papelbon wearing an empty 12-pack box carton on his head as he pranced around the ballpark? I don't think this is particularly controversial there: we'll allow brief moments of utter stupidity in the midst of the ecstasy and euphoria of victory.

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In one of the threads in the immediate aftermath of last week, I pointed out that one of the biggest difficulties that the front office faced in dealing with this debacle was the timing. There’s just not a lot of available options for a club that stages a September swoon. However, I think that lost in that argument was another major issue—it was touched upon a few times, but its significance in the downfall of the Sox maybe didn’t get the full attention it deserved.

For the casual visitors, and those looking to know a bit more about baseball contracts: a major difference between MLB and the other major professional sports is that free agents have much more control over their contracts and career than in the other sports. While this certainly works to protect the players to an extent, it also can make the job of management a lot tougher. The rules are sufficiently weighted in favor of the players that a free agent cannot be sent down to the minors without his consent. If a player refuses a minor league designation, the team’s only options are to retain the player on the 25-man roster, or to release him. In the case of a release, the full salary specified in the contract must still be paid. The only way to be released from the contract is if the player breaks the contract (through retirement or violating other clauses). However, the number of times this has actually happened is relatively small—and I certainly can’t remember hearing about it. 

Now, how do we put this into context for last month’s disaster? Well, to deal with problems in September is very challenging. There’s very little that can be done. Trade rules make it very difficult to bring in new blood that far into a season (and also remember that they’d also be ineligible for the playoffs, even if they were to impact the regular season race). You could try to solve the problem by eliminating a "cancer," if you were able to identify the specific player to let go, and were willing to absorb the remainder of their contract. They’ve already gotten most of their money due for the year, and you’d be left holding the bag for essentially the full amount remaining to be paid on the contract. (Remember, other teams can sign a released player for the league minimum, and the original team is responsible for the remainder of the contract.) 

Poll

Should MLB players continue to be offered fully guaranteed contracts?

13%

Yes, contracts should remain fully guaranteed.

50 votes

61%

Contracts should be like in the NFL: partly guaranteed, partly not.

222 votes

6%

Contracts should be mostly non-guaranteed.

25 votes

16%

No, contracts should never be fully guaranteed.

59 votes

1%

No opinion

7 votes

363 votes | Poll has closed

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There obviously comes a point at which you have to accept that an era has come to an end. You say your goodbyes, write off your losses, and move on. I write this before watching the final two games of the season—and I don't plan to rescale my opinions, regardless of what happens. I've already said my goodbyes to the 2011 season, emotionally at least.

Why have I given up? Well, a lot of it has to do with the fact that it seems a lot of the team has also given up—or at least they play as a team bereft of hope. Don't get me wrong—I don't mean to smear everyone with the brush of resignation to fate. The only way Dustin Pedroia gives up is if his body won't let him get on the field, and you know that guys like Tim Wakefield and Josh Beckett have that competitive fire burning inside of them. But, that fire never caught on with the rest of the team. As much as Pedroia is lauded as the heart and soul of this team, he didn't really seem to lead the team this year. In fact, there was never consistently a leader this year, somebody who took charge and put the team on his back all the way through. Jed Lowrie did it for a few weeks at the beginning of the season to guide them out of their April doldrums, and Jacoby Ellsbury did it for stretches as well, but there was no consistent focal point, no one to really rally around all year long. Did that hurt the team? I don't know, to be honest. But it certainly couldn't have helped.

One could also drag out the injury card and use that to try and explain things. Yes, there are shadows of 2010 looming large in the story of 2011 to date. But yet, it's still not the same.

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It doesn't seem all that long ago that Daniel Bard seemed to be made of the hardest adamantium that money could buy: there was that brilliant stretch of nearly two months where he didn't let up a single run, and opposing batters were completely powerless against him—figuratively and statistically. Those days seem to be long past, however, as these days Bard seems to give up multiple runs as often as he has a clean inning. So what could be behind this trend? 

A little digging into Pitch F/X shows some possible answers and, sadly, none of them are very encouraging.

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A few thoughts as I scarf down on the leftover sushi from Miami.

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With Tim Wakefield now at the 200-win plateau, there will be no shortage of encomia and analyses that will ask "Is he Hall-of-Fame worthy?" or is he the best or greatest or longest-lived or whatever. This piece is not intended to address those questions; I'll leave that to my fellow bloggers more gifted and clued-in to the world of baseball statistics to judge.

This piece will be about my own (admittedly somewhat selfish) reasons for continuing to root for Tim Wakefield, even as the end is painfully nigh.

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Dear Diary,

Like many a fan of the Boston Red Sox, I maintain a certain amount of what I regard as healthy superstition. I've learned it's never a good idea for me to jump into watching the middle of a game when things are going well—or to give up on games when things look bleak. Of course, I realize that, in reality, my actions can't possibly affect the outcome of the game, as i am neither in the batter's box, nor on the field, nor on the mound, nor in the dugout at game time. However, the lingering pessimism of the pre-2004 Sox fan still eats away at me, telling me somehow that I am at fault—that something I have done has, through a thousand or million indirect repercussions, led to the Sox's woes. 

For instance, was I rude to someone on the street, whose resulting malaise fed a low-grade anger which led him to take it out on an unsuspecting T worker, which then led to a late train and a pissed-off worker at Quizno's, who left off an extra slice of meat off the cheesesteak that Gonzo would eat before game time, which caused him to miss that slightest extra iota of strength that caused what would have been a home run to deep center to be one of Fenway's screaming outs instead? You get the idea—anything and everything could be responsible in some way for the Sox's outcomes, if you try hard enough! (Or perhaps it should be "if you're mental enough.")

So, how does that bring us to the Sox's current troubles? Well, in this case, I have to accept that the fault lies squarely at my own feet. My crime? Letting the "Schrödinger's cat" dilemma go on too long, and failing to check in with my Red Sox. I don't even have the excuse of not knowing this would happen, because all of this had happened before, and I had the horrifying premonition that all of this would happen again.

Poll

Who's to blame?

17%

lone1c

13 votes

19%

Me. It's all my fault, and I shall confess my transgression.

15 votes

2%

Somebody else, and I shall name the heretic!

2 votes

18%

We're all at fault.

14 votes

42%

Wait—you mean it's not the fault of the players?

32 votes

76 votes | Poll has closed

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Hi, I'm lone1c, and I'm in desperate need of psychiatric help. In the meanwhile, since it's so long until the Patriots actually play, enjoy this little bedtime tale to keep you busy for a few minutes.

Once upon a time, in the magical kingdom of Foxboro, there lived the mighty Prince Tom, a fierce warrior who rode out into many battles, and returned home victorious against many a stalwart opponent. Among the mightiest of Prince Tom's weapons was the Gronklerdez, a vicious three-headed monster that acted as both shield and weapon, and required many an enemy soldier even to slow down., let alone to stop or bring down  Many an opposing solder was even dragged along in their wake, powerless to shut down the fearsome onslaught of the Gronklerdez.

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With how good Josh Beckett has been against the Yankees this year, the law of averages would suggest that sooner or later he would have a clunker of an inning. Tonight, that bill finally came due, as a shaky sixth inning saw Beckett give up four runs—three of them earned—to the Yankees. That was as many as he had give up in thirty-two innings against the Yankees so far this year.

However, to give you an idea of what needed to happen for Beckett to have that bad inning, two of the runs were the result of hitting Mark Teixeira with a pitch and an error by RF Josh Reddick. A wild pitch also featured into the proceedings, so you can get a sense of just how weird and uncharacteristic this inning was for Beckett. Nothing for the Yankees to hang their hat on; there's certainly no sense that they've "solved" him, and they certainly would not relish the idea of two more starts against him this year. (Note to Yankees: you could avoid the pain by going 0-fer the remainder of the season. How about it?)

If you remove the shaky and unlucky sixth from the equation, Beckett had another strong outing. Even though it technically wasn't a quality start, there's little for Beckett to be disappointed about—eight strikeouts in 7 innings, with only one other run coming in the third off a double to Eduardo Nunez and a single to Derek Jeter (who moved up to 20th on the all time hits list, blah blah blah, go read Pinstripe Alley if you're so excited about that kind of thing).

Fortunately for Beckett, the Sox's bats had his back once again tonight. Like Lackey's start. the Sox had a dozen hits on the evening. This time, though, the Sox bats took advantage of mistakes by Yankees pitchers, and piled up the runs. Better still, both time the Yankees got on board, the Sox took back the lead in the ensuing bottom of the inning. In the third, Dustin Pedroia scored Marco Scutaro on a groundout, and then Jed Lowrie drove in Jacoby Ellsbury to put the Sox in the lead 2-1 after Joe Girardi elected to walk David Ortiz intentionally. Ortiz would add two more runs In the fifth, taking Phil Hughes way deep on a full-count pitch after a walk to Adrian Gonzalez.  

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So, somehow, the Red Sox actually managed to play eighteen innings of baseball yesterday. Two games that seemed to end up lasting about thirty-five hours with all the delays due to rain, but two games nevertheless.

And, mirabile dictu, the Sox won them both! The story of the day was good offensive production and unlucky pitching staffs.

The noon game started out inauspiciously, as Jon Lester would give up runs in each of the second and third frames: in the second on a homer to Brandon Allen, and in the third a wholly manufactured run that ended up being unearned due to Marco Scutaro's error in Scott Sizemore's at-bat. After that, however, it was smooth sailing for Lester, whose day lasted six innings, with only the two runs, three hits, and two walks.

The Sox's offense, however, seemed to recover after the mini-swoon on Friday. Marco Scutaro doubled and was driven in by Dustin Pedroia, although the Elf was thrown out trying to stretch the single into a double. Three more runs would come in the second, courtesy of a Jason Varitek homer and a Jacoby Ellsbury double. A David Ortiz double and a Carl Crawford sacrifice fly would score Adrian Gonzalez, Pedroia, and Ortiz in the third, and a Scutaro single scored Mike Aviles in the fourth. Varitek would have his third RBI of the day in the fifth inning, driving in a rampaging David Ortiz, who has had an ABABIP  (apparent batting average on balls in play) of 2.384 since returning from his boot-induced vacation.

The first rain delay of the day came in the top of the seventh inning—around the point where it was 9-2, and you're thinking, "Why are they playing the rest of this game, anyways?" (Apparently, the Sox committed a "no-no" when they did this back in 2009, and are not being allowed to use common sense to shorten the game. Whatever, Selig.) 

Following the rain delay, Dan Wheeler replaced Jon Lester, and a seeming cavalcade of Oakland Relievers relieved Guillermo Moscoso. There was not much excitement during this garbage time, except for an unfortunate ninth inning from Michael Bowden, who in his second inning of work, appeared to have hit a wall, as he decided to channel drama!Papelbon in loading the bases and allowing a run on a Cliff Pennington single. But, all in all, not a bad first half of the day's work for the Sox, winning by a final score of 9-3.

Game 2 after the jump.

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So, yeah, there was this little matter of a baseball game last night between the Red Sox and the Rangers. For the Sox, it was an opportunity to push the Rays back another game in the Wild Card race. Had the Oakland Athletics not laid a gigantic egg (three grand slams, guys? REALLY?), it would have been an opportunity to open up a two-game lead against New York, but sadly they had to settle for maintaining a one-game cushion. However, with Andrew Miller on the mound, the expectation was that offense was going to be needed—and perhaps quite a lot of it.

Alexi Ogando's night, at least early on, was looking a lot like a "Three True Outcomes" kind of night: Jacoby Ellsbury struck out to open the game, followed by a sharp lineout by Jed Lowrie. However, Ogando was not nearly so lucky against batter number three—Adrian Gonzalez. Gonzalez, who has rediscovered his power stroke in Arlington, hit his fourth homer of the series, giving the Red Sox a 1-0 lead, and providing all the offense they would need that night.

At this point, you're probably scratching your head saying, "What? A shutout? With Miller on the mound?" Well, yes, that's neither a typo nor a cruel hoax being perpetrated by yours truly. Miller pitched a heck of a game: 6.1 innings of three-hit ball (all singles, by the way), allowing just two free passes against six strikeouts, and all of this on just 83 pitches. 

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Well, since it's Thursday, that means it's going to likely be a slow day up ahead, baseball-wise. Or maybe not, since the threat of Hurricane Irene is raising the spectre of another round of "Death by Baseball," with the Sox squeezing three games into two days, with the possibility of a doubleheader on Saturday in anticipation of a hurricane-out on Sunday. (Especially since Oakland doesn't come back to the East Coast, nor are there common off days remaining.)

However, I still wanted to do something fun for the day, so I thought I'd introduce a new occasional feature: OTM Match Game! It's like Mad Libs, except you get the "question" in advance, and try to come up with the "best" response. ("Best" response meaning the one that earns the most recs.) The winner will even get a prize: a free download of the new SBNation app for iPhone! (Manufacturer's Suggested Retail Price: $0.00!) (Insert audience "oohs" and "ahs" here.)

So, give it your best shot:

lone1c: "I love Adrian Gonzalez, but I've got to tell you, he's really slow."

Studio audience: "HOW SLOW IS HE?"

lone1c: "Gonzalez is so slow, that the Sox were doing warmups around Fenway, and he just got lapped by <blank>."

Meh.

I think that perfectly encapsulates the game. But since SBN won't let me post a one-word game recap, my thoughts on the game: 

Grumble grumble weak-hitting offense stymied by Rays pitching leading to three hits or fewer in three straight games for the first time in thirty-seven seasons.

FAIL offense that can't score Jacoby Ellsbury from third with no outs in the fourth inning.

DFA Darnell McDonald who can't keep Johnny Damon from scoring in the first inning.

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DFA Carl Crawford who can't seem to hit his way out of a paper bag, let alone to an OPS that justifies making as much per game as I make in a year.

DFA commenter Tal for suggesting I throw myself off the Monster.

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DISLIKE Rays pitching that needed only one reliever for a single inning in a three-game series.

DISLIKE squandering scoring chances by hitting into a double play to end the first inning.

Lackey? Erm.  Yeah. Okay. Not so cromulent, but not exactly FAILtastic, either. Rather meh on the whole. Technically a quality start, but still, eh.

DISLIKE no offense. Need more runs. Lots more runs.

On to Kansas City? Who knows, maybe the Sox will find their offense again.

In the meantime, MEH.