According to the Boston Globe the Red Sox will not "be a factor" in the bidding for Mark Teixeira. The Red Sox were long believed to be the favorites for the All-Star first baseman.
Jose isn't exactly sure how he feels about this. On the one hand, if it was really going to take $200 million to sign the guy, Jose is sort of happy to let him walk, at that kind of value he would be far too appealing a target for Somali pirates. (Note: Jose is pretty sure he stole that joke from someone, but he has no recollection of who.)
On the other hand, Jose was looking forward to Teixeira coming here, so he could finally get an explanation for how the hell the "X" in his name makes a "zh" sound.
Of course, this might all be nonsense, as Sox owner John W. Henry sent word by email. Maybe he was just really, really mad about how things were going so he wrote down an angry email, with no intention of sending it, but then accidentally clicked send. That seems at least as plausible as Texiera getting $200 million from Baltimore or Washington.
The other possibility is that the Yankees have suddenly jumped into the running. This would make sense. As usual the Yankees can exceed any cash offer the Red Sox might make. Also, unlike the Red Sox, the Yankees have an open Senate seat to offer.
Oh, Jose just though of one other possibility. Maybe the word "factor" in the statement is a clue. As Jose recalls, in the early days of the comic X-Factor, the original X-Men joined together and pretended to be a group of vigilantes called X-Factor that captured mutants. After they seized a mutant, they would secretly train him and take care of him. Maybe the Red Sox have a similar plan. They are going to pretend to be anti-Teixeira, and then will capture him and secretly train him to play catcher, thereby allowing Mike Lowell and Kevin Youkilis to remain on a team including Teixeira.
Come on, it's at leastas likely as the guy actually wanting to play in Baltimore.
Showing posts with label Henry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henry. Show all posts
Thursday, December 18
Tuesday, August 14
Eric Gagne's Middle Name is Serge
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Following yesterday’s KEYS, wherein Jose assigned Eric Gagne the middle name Heathcliff because he couldn’t figure out his real middle name, a number of Jose’s astute (note: know-it-all) readers let him know that Gagne does in fact have a real middle name. It is “Serge.”
This raised an obvious question: Does the President know this?
Jose confessed he was not thrilled by the idea of using a serge in Iraq when he thought the President was talking about sending more troops there, but to send Eric Serge Gagne? That just seems crazy. For starters, he’s Canadian, so Jose is pretty sure the President of the U.S. has no authority over him. But just as importantly, is Gagne really the man for the job? What Jose has seen in Gagne’s brief stint in Boston has left him with deep concerns about his ability to preserve a win. If he can’t preserve a win in Camden Yards, how on Earth is he going to preserve one in Baghdad? Even worse, before Gagne came here, Jose was always hearing about how filthy he was. Filthy fastball, filthy change. Is someone so filthy really equipped to deal with Baaths? (Note: KEYS TO THE GAME, winner worst Iraq War pun three years running. No, not really.)
If we were going to hinge our foreign policy to a relief pitcher, Gagne would not have been Jose’s first choice. A far better option would have been Mike Timlin, as he is proficient with small arms and likes to wear camouflage. Of course, the President may be saving Timlin until we have four more years of war. You know, Timlin in the eighth. Then Scott Williamson would take over the war in year nine. Who says Bush can’t learn from past mistakes.
2. Jose loves pork chops. He just loves them. Maybe the best thing about the modern, lean pork chops is that they are at their absolute best with no seasoning more exotic than salt and pepper. From time to time, Jose will lose his senses and sprinkle a pork chop with some exotic rub designed to accentuate its fatty deliciousness, but the result is invariably disappointing. When it comes to pork chops, Ockham’s Razor presides.
Last night, Jose thawed out a couple of pork chops for dinner. Summer grilling, you know. As he prepared to salt and pepper them, he noticed that one of the chops was kind of strange. Rather than having the white-pink hue and smooth texture Jose is accustomed too, it was redder, the grain thicker. At first, Jose was concerned that there was something horribly, cataclysmically wrong with this pork chop, but then he realized the awful truth—it wasn’t a pork chop at all. Instead, it was a piece of sirloin steak cut in a shape that vaguely resembled a pork chop. When cooled to freezing the vast tundra of Jose’s ice box, the slab of cow was indistinguishable from the swine upon which Jose so gleefully digs.
The reason Jose brings this up is that he’s been thinking that Kevin Youkilis is a lot like that steak that appeared to be a pork chop. Maybe he wasn’t exactly what you thought he would be, an everyday third basemen, but what he turned out to be, a slick fielding first baseman is pretty good, though maybe he needed a bit more seasoning than he would have at first. Also, like the steak he is conceivably, though not certainly kosher, while Pork Chop Lowell, most clearly is not.
3. The WWF is working an angle right now wherein it is revealed that Vincent K. McMahon has an illegitimate child and that this, as yet unidentified child, works for the WWF. (Note: Jose bets it’s not someone who works in marketing.)
Jose would sort of like to see the Red Sox try something like this. It would be kind of fun if John W. Henry went down to the pitcher’s mound pregame and declared that someone on the team was his son and that he wouldn’t rest until he identified who it was.
Jose figures it would have to be DJ Dru, because the only way that contract made sense, at least knowing what we do now about Dru being overshadowed by the awesome power of Doug Mirabelli, is if it was some kind of paternity settlement.
I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE GAME.
1. Following yesterday’s KEYS, wherein Jose assigned Eric Gagne the middle name Heathcliff because he couldn’t figure out his real middle name, a number of Jose’s astute (note: know-it-all) readers let him know that Gagne does in fact have a real middle name. It is “Serge.”
This raised an obvious question: Does the President know this?
Jose confessed he was not thrilled by the idea of using a serge in Iraq when he thought the President was talking about sending more troops there, but to send Eric Serge Gagne? That just seems crazy. For starters, he’s Canadian, so Jose is pretty sure the President of the U.S. has no authority over him. But just as importantly, is Gagne really the man for the job? What Jose has seen in Gagne’s brief stint in Boston has left him with deep concerns about his ability to preserve a win. If he can’t preserve a win in Camden Yards, how on Earth is he going to preserve one in Baghdad? Even worse, before Gagne came here, Jose was always hearing about how filthy he was. Filthy fastball, filthy change. Is someone so filthy really equipped to deal with Baaths? (Note: KEYS TO THE GAME, winner worst Iraq War pun three years running. No, not really.)
If we were going to hinge our foreign policy to a relief pitcher, Gagne would not have been Jose’s first choice. A far better option would have been Mike Timlin, as he is proficient with small arms and likes to wear camouflage. Of course, the President may be saving Timlin until we have four more years of war. You know, Timlin in the eighth. Then Scott Williamson would take over the war in year nine. Who says Bush can’t learn from past mistakes.
2. Jose loves pork chops. He just loves them. Maybe the best thing about the modern, lean pork chops is that they are at their absolute best with no seasoning more exotic than salt and pepper. From time to time, Jose will lose his senses and sprinkle a pork chop with some exotic rub designed to accentuate its fatty deliciousness, but the result is invariably disappointing. When it comes to pork chops, Ockham’s Razor presides.
Last night, Jose thawed out a couple of pork chops for dinner. Summer grilling, you know. As he prepared to salt and pepper them, he noticed that one of the chops was kind of strange. Rather than having the white-pink hue and smooth texture Jose is accustomed too, it was redder, the grain thicker. At first, Jose was concerned that there was something horribly, cataclysmically wrong with this pork chop, but then he realized the awful truth—it wasn’t a pork chop at all. Instead, it was a piece of sirloin steak cut in a shape that vaguely resembled a pork chop. When cooled to freezing the vast tundra of Jose’s ice box, the slab of cow was indistinguishable from the swine upon which Jose so gleefully digs.
The reason Jose brings this up is that he’s been thinking that Kevin Youkilis is a lot like that steak that appeared to be a pork chop. Maybe he wasn’t exactly what you thought he would be, an everyday third basemen, but what he turned out to be, a slick fielding first baseman is pretty good, though maybe he needed a bit more seasoning than he would have at first. Also, like the steak he is conceivably, though not certainly kosher, while Pork Chop Lowell, most clearly is not.
3. The WWF is working an angle right now wherein it is revealed that Vincent K. McMahon has an illegitimate child and that this, as yet unidentified child, works for the WWF. (Note: Jose bets it’s not someone who works in marketing.)
Jose would sort of like to see the Red Sox try something like this. It would be kind of fun if John W. Henry went down to the pitcher’s mound pregame and declared that someone on the team was his son and that he wouldn’t rest until he identified who it was.
Jose figures it would have to be DJ Dru, because the only way that contract made sense, at least knowing what we do now about Dru being overshadowed by the awesome power of Doug Mirabelli, is if it was some kind of paternity settlement.
I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE GAME.
Tuesday, March 20
And Now a Brief Intermission
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE TO SPRING TRAINING.
1. They don’t come around too often any more, but Jose always loved going to single admission doubleheaders. As nice as drinking beers at the ballpark is while taking in a game, doing it while taking in two games is literally twice as nice. Actually, it’s 2.3 times as nice, economies of scale, you know.
As anyone with even a rudimentary knowledge of economics knows, it is not a given that two, is twice as good as one. One could very reasonably expect the marginal utility of each inning to diminish as one creeps into the second game. But it doesn’t, and you know why? No intermissions. This is the genius of baseball. Other sports have lengthy breaks, but not baseball. Sure there’s the seventh inning stretch, but that’s barely more than a regular inning change, unless of course, it is a playoff game at Yankee Stadium, in which case, it is slightly longer than a Peking Opera, and only 20 percent as interesting.
The law of diminishing marginal returns became painfully clear to Jose as he went to an “Iced Hockey” double header at the Boston Garden on Friday. (Note: It’s like Iced Tea, right?) While Hockey is a great live sport and Jose was excited by the prospect of watching his state university take on UNH, and his alma mater BU take on BC, he lived in dread. Sure, six periods of hockey (note: Which period is the Jurassic? The second right?) is a lot, but what really scared Jose was the five intermissions. Five! That’s an hour and forty minutes of intermission, and more if one remembers that the intermission between games is 45 minutes.
It got worse. The first game went to double overtime. Sure it was “exciting” and “dramatic” but the intermissions, dear God the intermissions. To make matters worse, the game ended two minutes into the second overtime, so a twenty minute intermission was followed by 2 minutes of action and then another 45 minutes of intermission. That’s almost as much down time as in a Nomar Garciaparra at bat!
So based on this, experience Jose has created a sport hierarchy based on the number and duration of intermissions. Hockey is at the bottom because it has two intermissions. Then comes basketball because it has one. Above that is football, because it also has one intermission, but it has way better highlights than basketball. Next is soccer, which also has one intermission but doesn’t have commercials during the game. And then on top is baseball with its no intermissions, save for occasional moments to scratch, spit and go into the Green Monster to urinate. Actually, check that. Wrestling is above baseball, because it has no breaks at all, unless you count “rest holds” like the sleeper hold and reverse chinlocks. NASCAR would be at the top, because it has no intermissions at all, but then Jose remembered it’s just people driving in circles, so it’s actually nothing but intermission.
2. As part of an effort to maintain better control of their intellectual property, the Red Sox have announced new policies governing the use of Red Sox highlights from NESN, including demands that NESN receive credit on all Red Sox clips.
While this move generated significant publicity, it is only the latest in a series of moves by the Red Sox to protect their intellectual property. Among the less well know moves:
1. They don’t come around too often any more, but Jose always loved going to single admission doubleheaders. As nice as drinking beers at the ballpark is while taking in a game, doing it while taking in two games is literally twice as nice. Actually, it’s 2.3 times as nice, economies of scale, you know.
As anyone with even a rudimentary knowledge of economics knows, it is not a given that two, is twice as good as one. One could very reasonably expect the marginal utility of each inning to diminish as one creeps into the second game. But it doesn’t, and you know why? No intermissions. This is the genius of baseball. Other sports have lengthy breaks, but not baseball. Sure there’s the seventh inning stretch, but that’s barely more than a regular inning change, unless of course, it is a playoff game at Yankee Stadium, in which case, it is slightly longer than a Peking Opera, and only 20 percent as interesting.
The law of diminishing marginal returns became painfully clear to Jose as he went to an “Iced Hockey” double header at the Boston Garden on Friday. (Note: It’s like Iced Tea, right?) While Hockey is a great live sport and Jose was excited by the prospect of watching his state university take on UNH, and his alma mater BU take on BC, he lived in dread. Sure, six periods of hockey (note: Which period is the Jurassic? The second right?) is a lot, but what really scared Jose was the five intermissions. Five! That’s an hour and forty minutes of intermission, and more if one remembers that the intermission between games is 45 minutes.
It got worse. The first game went to double overtime. Sure it was “exciting” and “dramatic” but the intermissions, dear God the intermissions. To make matters worse, the game ended two minutes into the second overtime, so a twenty minute intermission was followed by 2 minutes of action and then another 45 minutes of intermission. That’s almost as much down time as in a Nomar Garciaparra at bat!
So based on this, experience Jose has created a sport hierarchy based on the number and duration of intermissions. Hockey is at the bottom because it has two intermissions. Then comes basketball because it has one. Above that is football, because it also has one intermission, but it has way better highlights than basketball. Next is soccer, which also has one intermission but doesn’t have commercials during the game. And then on top is baseball with its no intermissions, save for occasional moments to scratch, spit and go into the Green Monster to urinate. Actually, check that. Wrestling is above baseball, because it has no breaks at all, unless you count “rest holds” like the sleeper hold and reverse chinlocks. NASCAR would be at the top, because it has no intermissions at all, but then Jose remembered it’s just people driving in circles, so it’s actually nothing but intermission.
2. As part of an effort to maintain better control of their intellectual property, the Red Sox have announced new policies governing the use of Red Sox highlights from NESN, including demands that NESN receive credit on all Red Sox clips.
While this move generated significant publicity, it is only the latest in a series of moves by the Red Sox to protect their intellectual property. Among the less well know moves:
- Sued He-Man/Masters of the Universe for misappropriating John W. Henry’s likeness for Skeletor.
- Sued Kellogs for misuse of “Coco Crisp” brand name.
- Sent cease and desist order to makers of Spider Man movie, claiming “Green Goblin” is way too close to “Green Monster,” “Dr. Octopus” is what everyone called Wade Boggs when he was groping Margo Adams and “Mary Jane” is dangerously close to the type of cigarettes Craig Hansen likes to smoke. (Note: Jose has no evidence that Hansen is a doper aside from his droopy eyes.)
- Filed restraining order against Armando Benitez, claiming “save blowing gopher ball” is the intellectual property of Julian Tavarez.
- Filed suit against J.J. Abrams and ABC, stating that the Red Sox had already copyrighted “Lost” as the name of a series about Joe Kerrigan’s managerial reign.
- Filed gag order against Kevin Millar. Someone had to do it.
- Issued statement saying anyone calling Grady Little a “Forrest Gump looking douchebag” is using Red Sox trademarked material and must pay $50 in royalties.
- Bitched at Doug Mientkiewiecz about World Series ball. (Note: Wait that one’s real. What a dick move.)
3. The Texas Rangers have ended their relationship with Ameriquest Mortgage Company, changing the name of their ballpark from Ameriquest Field to Rangers Ballpark in Arlington three years into a 30 year deal.
The outcome of Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick’s call to the Rangers pleading with them to keep the Ameriquest name remains unknown.
I’m Jose Melendez and those are my KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.
Thursday, January 25
Reality Check Please
It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE HOT STOVE.
1. In times of foment and struggle, in days of uncertainty and turmoil, now and throughout history, it is common, perhaps inevitable for governments, for the grasping assemblages of the powers that be to attempt to reassert their increasingly tenuous grip on power.
The leadership of Red Sox Nation is no different.
With the bowels of Red Sox Nation’s body politic rumbling after consuming the tainted shellfish of a third place season, the leadership, the terrible triumvirate of Henry, Lucchino and Werner, is attempting to clog the diarrhea of our discontent with the chalky Imodium of control.
They want to make us register.
They want to make us register because information is control.
It started out unassumingly enough didn’t it?
“Become a registered citizen of Red Sox Nation, and get a 10% discount at our store.” It seemed innocent, so innocent. But it always does doesn’t it? What slow sulk into totalitarianism hasn’t begun with a 10% discount?
And now there are tiers of registration, each with its own insidious set of inducements and price tag, designed not only to track us but to classify us, to divide us. What is the answer? Resistance.
In Marvel Comics today, there is a series called “Civil War” wherein the destruction of Stamford, Connecticut as the result of a battle on a super hero reality show leads to a push for the registration of all super heroes. (Note: Yes, Jose knows that the premise that the destruction of Stamford would get people all riled up is a bit far fetched, but remember, we’re talking about comic books here.) The world of super heroes is quickly divided into those who favor mandatory registration and those opposed. Well, this is no different… except there are no super heroes, it’s happening in the real world and no one cares, not even comic book reading geeks.
But still, Jose sounds the clarion call of resistance, bright and clear like a bell in the night. Burn your registration cards. Resist the machine. Today, they offer you discounts, tomorrow failure to register will make you ineligible for college loans.
People of Red Sox Nation, we have nothing to lose but our chain of sold out games.
2. A few days ago it was announced that NESN is developing a Red Sox reality dating show.
The concept is that a fan will spend two innings each with three lucky ladies (note: or gents, this is Massachusetts) and then decide who they will throw up on in the final three innings. While a lot of “real fans” condemn the project, entitled “Sox Appeal,” as mindless drivel for the pink hat crowd, the sort of project that is an affront to real fans who go to the game to, you know, drink beer and question Derek Jeter’s sexuality, Jose completely approves of this idea. Anything that contributes to the goal, our shared goal, of getting Red Sox fans laid is okay with him. In fact, Jose thinks the Red Sox need to take it much farther and concoct a whole series of Red Sox themed reality shows. A few ideas:
America’s Next Top Groupie: Skanks and star f*ckers compete in a series challenges like sexual gymnastics, shutting up and looking pretty, not getting pregnant and leaving after he’s done, for the right to spend one night with Kevin Youkilis.
Who Wants to be a Closer?: Real fans are brought in to close games for the Red Sox, until Tito gets fed up and moves Papelbon back into the role.
Average Joel: Watch as Joel Piniero struggles to reach his career averages. The catch? He doesn’t know it, but he’s pitching with a torn rotator cuff.
The Amazing Race: Manny Ramirez and a giant tortoise are placed side by side. Who will win the race to first on ground out?
Extreme Ballpark Makeovers: Watch as Janet Marie Smith and her team of experts completely revamp Fenway Park and do some much needed tightening on John W. Henry’s gaunt and creepily loose skin.
Manny 911: Got bratty disobedient kids? Manny Ramirez will come to your house to teach them about responsibility.
My Super Size 16: Which Red Sox will fill David Wells’ XXXXL number 16 jersey? Watch as hopefuls eat nothing but McDonalds in an effort to fill his shirt.
See? The possibilities are pretty much endless. Sure, Sox Appeal may be a stupid idea, but if it ultimately leads to Julienned Tavarez singing “Convoy” in front of a panel of finicky judges, how can it possibly be a bad thing?
3. The Red Sox have released word that additional single game tickets for the 2007 season will be released on Sunday, January 28. Many of you may have heard that the Red Sox will be releasing tickets on Saturday, January 27 in newspapers, on TV and on radio, but who are you going to trust, those “reputable media sources” or a blogger who is only trying to “clear the way” so he will have better access to tickets and less time in the “f*cking virtual waiting room,” where they don’t even have “virtual out of date magazines?”
I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE HOT STOVE.
1. In times of foment and struggle, in days of uncertainty and turmoil, now and throughout history, it is common, perhaps inevitable for governments, for the grasping assemblages of the powers that be to attempt to reassert their increasingly tenuous grip on power.
The leadership of Red Sox Nation is no different.
With the bowels of Red Sox Nation’s body politic rumbling after consuming the tainted shellfish of a third place season, the leadership, the terrible triumvirate of Henry, Lucchino and Werner, is attempting to clog the diarrhea of our discontent with the chalky Imodium of control.
They want to make us register.
They want to make us register because information is control.
It started out unassumingly enough didn’t it?
“Become a registered citizen of Red Sox Nation, and get a 10% discount at our store.” It seemed innocent, so innocent. But it always does doesn’t it? What slow sulk into totalitarianism hasn’t begun with a 10% discount?
And now there are tiers of registration, each with its own insidious set of inducements and price tag, designed not only to track us but to classify us, to divide us. What is the answer? Resistance.
In Marvel Comics today, there is a series called “Civil War” wherein the destruction of Stamford, Connecticut as the result of a battle on a super hero reality show leads to a push for the registration of all super heroes. (Note: Yes, Jose knows that the premise that the destruction of Stamford would get people all riled up is a bit far fetched, but remember, we’re talking about comic books here.) The world of super heroes is quickly divided into those who favor mandatory registration and those opposed. Well, this is no different… except there are no super heroes, it’s happening in the real world and no one cares, not even comic book reading geeks.
But still, Jose sounds the clarion call of resistance, bright and clear like a bell in the night. Burn your registration cards. Resist the machine. Today, they offer you discounts, tomorrow failure to register will make you ineligible for college loans.
People of Red Sox Nation, we have nothing to lose but our chain of sold out games.
2. A few days ago it was announced that NESN is developing a Red Sox reality dating show.
The concept is that a fan will spend two innings each with three lucky ladies (note: or gents, this is Massachusetts) and then decide who they will throw up on in the final three innings. While a lot of “real fans” condemn the project, entitled “Sox Appeal,” as mindless drivel for the pink hat crowd, the sort of project that is an affront to real fans who go to the game to, you know, drink beer and question Derek Jeter’s sexuality, Jose completely approves of this idea. Anything that contributes to the goal, our shared goal, of getting Red Sox fans laid is okay with him. In fact, Jose thinks the Red Sox need to take it much farther and concoct a whole series of Red Sox themed reality shows. A few ideas:
America’s Next Top Groupie: Skanks and star f*ckers compete in a series challenges like sexual gymnastics, shutting up and looking pretty, not getting pregnant and leaving after he’s done, for the right to spend one night with Kevin Youkilis.
Who Wants to be a Closer?: Real fans are brought in to close games for the Red Sox, until Tito gets fed up and moves Papelbon back into the role.
Average Joel: Watch as Joel Piniero struggles to reach his career averages. The catch? He doesn’t know it, but he’s pitching with a torn rotator cuff.
The Amazing Race: Manny Ramirez and a giant tortoise are placed side by side. Who will win the race to first on ground out?
Extreme Ballpark Makeovers: Watch as Janet Marie Smith and her team of experts completely revamp Fenway Park and do some much needed tightening on John W. Henry’s gaunt and creepily loose skin.
Manny 911: Got bratty disobedient kids? Manny Ramirez will come to your house to teach them about responsibility.
My Super Size 16: Which Red Sox will fill David Wells’ XXXXL number 16 jersey? Watch as hopefuls eat nothing but McDonalds in an effort to fill his shirt.
See? The possibilities are pretty much endless. Sure, Sox Appeal may be a stupid idea, but if it ultimately leads to Julienned Tavarez singing “Convoy” in front of a panel of finicky judges, how can it possibly be a bad thing?
3. The Red Sox have released word that additional single game tickets for the 2007 season will be released on Sunday, January 28. Many of you may have heard that the Red Sox will be releasing tickets on Saturday, January 27 in newspapers, on TV and on radio, but who are you going to trust, those “reputable media sources” or a blogger who is only trying to “clear the way” so he will have better access to tickets and less time in the “f*cking virtual waiting room,” where they don’t even have “virtual out of date magazines?”
I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE HOT STOVE.
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