Celebrate Good times? Come on.

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.

1. Lost amid the hubbub of the Yankee Stadium closing is the news that the Red Sox will clinch their fifth playoff birth in six years tonight. Jose is excited about this because it means an insane celebration that will make Jose love this team.

But what if that doesn’t happen?

What if this group is so much more professional and serious than teams past that they refuse to cut loose? Millar is gone, Manny is gone, Pedro is gone, Damon is gone. Hell, we’re down to one Jew, so seeing anyone dance the Hora is unlikely. (Note: Who would lift the chairs?) All that we have no is Papelbon who, in fairness, may be crazy enough to compensate for all of them. But one lunatic does not an asylum make. Jose’s fear is that Papelbon will, like last year, celebrate by stripping down to his jockstrap, but that Sean Casey will quickly hand him a towel and tell him “Put on some God damn pants and quick making an ass of yourself.”

Will DJ Dru just celebrate with an understated fist pump? Will Mike Lowell party with a glass of chilled Chablis? Perhaps Dice and Oki will do nothing more than offer a simple bow. Maybe Mark Kotsay will do…well, whatever it is that Mark Kotsay does.

Frankly, Jose is worried. This is not the gang of idiots, so perhaps they need a more structured way to celebrate. So Jose will step in and offer a suggestion for a fun yet responsible way to celebrate.

Here’s what Jose has come up with: An arcade party at the Dream Machine in the Watertown Mall followed by pizza at Papa Gino’s. Jose knows this may sound like it lacks in drama, but trust him, it’s super fun. Jose did this for his birthday like five years. For an hour you can play all the video games you want for free. Like Curt Euro isn’t going to be in to that? Also, as a plus, there’s an Old Country Buffet there, so Mike Timlin will be good. On the down side, it seems absolutely possible that DJ Dru could injure himself playing skee ball.

2. Yankee Stadium is not the only New York institution to fold this week. The musical Rent also left Broadway after a 12-year run. Despite the fact that the 5,124 performances of Rent, greatly exceeds the number of games played since this Yankee Stadium finished construction in 1976, the close of Rent has not gotten nearly the same press attention. Thus, Jose presents a list of reasons why the closing of Rent is more important than the closing of Yankee Stadium.

• Rent is not being replaced with a new, $1.3 billion publicly funded musical.
• Rent only made Jose want to slit his wrists on one occasion in 1999. Events in Yankee Stadium made Jose want to slit his wrists annually from 1995-2003.
• While Rent includes many long annoying songs, it has never featured a 45-minute rendition of God Bless America.
• Amazingly, far less slapping in Rent.
• If a 12-year-old kid, had interrupted a performance of Rent, he would not have been put on television and given really great seats to the next performance.
• In Rent, the rich guys are the villains.
• If the star of Rent’s vocal repertoire can barely reach one octave, he is not praised for his amazing range.
• Even though Rent is a remake of an old opera called La Boheme, people don’t count performances of La Boheme in Rent’s run. Yet, people do count games at the old Yankee Stadium in the new Yankee Stadium’s run.
• Rent addresses many adult and disturbing issues, but nothing as disturbing or perverse as Wade Boggs on horseback.
  

3. They called it the House the Ruth Built, even though George Hermann Ruth never played in the iteration of Yankee Stadium that closed last night.

Still, there is a certain appropriateness to the appellation. The big, ugly concrete bowl does look like something that a fat alcoholic might have built. (Note: Actually, given that it was built by contractors in New York, it probably was built by a fat alcoholic.)

No, the architecture, the aesthetics were never what made Yankee Stadium great. What made it great, what allowed it to transcend its structural mediocrity, were the events that transpired there: A-Rod’s slap, Beckett’s gem, D battery night. There are probably some good things that happened to the Yankees there too, but they were so long ago that Jose can’t really remember them.

By contrast, Fenway Park, despite its innumerable flaws, is remarkable for what it is, an uncomfortable yet quirky gem. If Fenway is the Eiffel Tower, an elegant proof of its own importance, Yankee Stadium is Tokyo Tower, a gaudy affront to elegance made important only by its own self-importance. If Fenway is a Pollock painting, discordant yet somehow lovely, Yankee Stadium is a work by Thomas Kinkade “Painter of Light,” widely liked while completely lacking in merit.

It will be easy for critics to say that Jose is just bashing New York, and that is certainly the case. But, Jose would say the same thing about the Boston Garden. It was a dump that was important for what happened there, not for what it was. In that regard, perhaps Yankee Stadium is more like the 99 Restaurant in Charlestown. It’s not famous because it’s beautiful or interesting but because some bad, bad stuff went down there.

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE GAME.

Vestigial Belts

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.

1. It has come to Jose’s attention recently that baseball players are the only athletes in any major U.S. sport who wear belts. Jose thinks that football players may wear belts too, but he thinks those are built into their pants, so they don’t really count. What Jose is talking about is an honest to God, ass whippin’, Michael Huthcence-style autoerotic asphyxiation belt. Hutchence never could have killed himself with the belt in a pair of football pants. Even boxers, who are forbidden to hit below the belt, do not, technically, wear belts.

So baseball players are unique among American athletes in wearing a proper belt. The question, as always, is why?

The answer is clearly not “to keep their pants up.” A significant percentage of major leaguers are of sufficient girth that having their pants fall off is not an issue and they still wear belts. Another counterpoint to the “keep their pants up hypothesis” is Manny, who wore a belt and yet constantly seemed to have his pants falling off.

So Jose has come to a conclusion. The belt on baseball players is a vestigial structure dating back to when players needed them in the old days of baseball before nuclear science gave us the elastic waist. It is something left over from a distant past when it had use, like the appendix or Mike Timlin.

So, we have established that the belt on baseball players serves no purpose. This troubles Jose. It strikes him as wasteful. Isn’t there something that could be done?

Yes. Yes there is.

While attending a minor league game last week, Jose had an idea. He became frustrated with the fact that he could not tell which players were former major leaguers and which had yet to visit the show. And then it him… belts were the answer, and for once he was not talking about belts of scotch.

Baseball should take a cue from karate. Each player should wear a belt reflecting his highest level of baseball achievement. Little leaguers would wear white belts, high school players yellow belts and rookie leaguers orange belts. A ball gets a green belt, AA a blue belt and AAA players would wear brown belts. Only a major leaguer would have the honor and esteem of a black belt. Once in the majors, a player would get a degree for each All-Star Appearance. For instance, Scott Cooper would be a second-degree black belt.

Wait, scrap the whole idea. Jose is pretty sure that the karate equivalent of Scott Cooper is not a second degree black belt, but Daniel LaRusso before he met Mr. Miyagi.

2. As the Red Sox come down the stretch run, Jose has to confess that he feels remarkably confident despite the Sox having only a slim lead for the wild card and approximately three quarters of the team on the disabled list. Jose isn’t exactly sure why he feels confident, but he’s been thinking about it, and he has developed a theory.

Here’s what Jose’s come up with: Jose feels completely confident because the Red Sox now have Jonathan Van Every on the team.

At first Jose didn’t really feel that way, after all was there any evidence that Van Every would make a difference? Had he made a huge difference in AAA? Had he demonstrated any real aptitude for Major League Baseball? Was there any evidence that he was ready to succeed DJ Dru in right field right now should the need arise? After all, his experience was mostly in center and left, which is totally different from right. The answer to all of these questions is no.

A week ago this would have unsettled Jose profoundly rather than elating him, but not anymore, not after the nomination of Sarah Palin for Vice President. What the joyous reaction to Gov. Palin’s nomination among social conservatives has shown Jose is that preparation and aptitude are irrelevant, provided you belief in the right things and represent a critical interest group.

So does Van Every believe in the right things and represent a critical group? Well, Van Every believes in both hitting the ball AND catching the ball. Moreover, he is guaranteed to capture the critical demographic of Mississippians of Dutch extraction. That’s huge. And who cares if prior to making the majors, his only real success was in AA?

Sure, Jose was supporting the Red Sox prior to Van Every’s call up, who else was he going to support, Tampax Bay? But his support was wan and unenthusiastic. Now that we have Van Every, Jose feels confident and fired up. Besides did you know that Van Every has exactly as much Major League experience now as Ted Williams had after his first four At Bats? Of course, Ted Williams probably didn’t strike out in three of them.

Ready to Lead?

3. Instant replay begins Thursday in all Major League ballparks and Jose for one, says it’s about time. Jose is sick and tired of having to go through the laborious process of getting a “conventional” replay. It will be much nicer to just add water to the replay, toss it in the microwave and get it back in 45 seconds.

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE GAME.

Where's the Drama?

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.

1. Where’s the drama?

Is it, as a drill sergeant on a short lived FOX boot camp reality show once suggested, being saved for “yo mamma?” Is it the preserve of pale goth chicks in pasty white makeup? Jose does not know. But surely, it is not at Fenway Park

Today is the World Famous Sons of Sam Horn bash, and there is absolutely no rumor, as yet, of Manny Ramirez demanding a trade. Not even a peep. Where the hell does that leave Jose? Lost and alone, and a little bored. That’s where. Two years ago, Manny was poised to be traded to the Mets on bash day and it made for easy copy. Pithy verbiage like “stop the music” and “trading Manny for Aubrey Huff and Mike Cameron is the stupidest idea ever” flowed freely from Jose’s clicking keys, like beer, and wine, and tequila and vodka, and rum and probably more than a little isopropyl down SoSHer Tom Ricardo’s formidable gullet.

And today? Well, today Jose has to actually use a drunken Cranston frat boy in an analogy. That’s how bad the material is today.

But let’s say Jose wants to write about real trading deadline drama. Let’s imagine, for once moment, that he would rather not write about the man called TRic. What would he write about? Would he hop on the rumors that the Sox are looking into Jermaine Dye or Marx Texiera? What about the Reggie Sanders option? Or there are even those silly rumors about Ken Griffey Jr.?

Pish tosh Jose says. Pish tosh. There is only one trade Jose wants to discuss, and that is the trade that brings Todd Helton to the Red Sox for Mike Lowell and Wily Mo Pena.

Let’s break it down.

Why would the Red Sox make this trade? It would give them a serious power boost, a skilled first baseman and allow them to move Kevin Youkilis to third.

Why would the Colorado Rockies make this move? Okay, bear with Jose for a second because it’s a little statistical, but here goes: They make the trade because someone put LSD in the water cooler. Think about it. It might work. Under the influence of acid, Colorado officials could easily become convinced that Helton was a snake monster they needed to get rid of, and that accepting a 30 foot tall Dominican giant and a kindly old wizard was a preferable to cutting him outright.

Okay, maybe no one is going to take this seriously baring the use of mind-altering drugs or possibly a kidnapping of some kind, but people took Manny for Huff and Cameron seriously, and was that really any less asinine? Okay, yes it was, but not by much.


2. Jose likes to think that he was Julio Lugo’s inspiration.

It only makes sense doesn’t it? Jose is a singles hitter with a propensity for groundouts, and an ugly tendency to throw the ball away. Sound like anyone you know? And yet at last night’s Sons of Sam Horn softball game, Jose absolutely raked. A deep home run, a triple, a single and a long fly out. No errors either. Okay, maybe one error, but it’s beer league softball.

Then all of a sudden Julio Lugo, who had been heating up anyway, suddenly crushes a ball over the monster for a grand slam. Rococo Crisp started heating up after Jacoby Ellsbury, a younger, whiter version of himself showed up. Is it not possible that Jose had the same impact on Lugo?

Admittedly, logic would say, “No that’s completely impossible. Stop being a jackass Jose.”

But Jose, jackass that he is, thinks otherwise. Sometimes all that matters is to hear the footsteps, to sense the sickly sweet breath of competition blowing down your neck.

This was one of those times.

And Jose is glad because, despite his being the worst hitter in baseball for the better part of this year, Jose never lost faith in Julio Lugo. Maybe it’s because of Jose’s deep, and borderline racist conviction that all Dominicans can hit a baseball. Maybe it’s because it simply seemed impossible that anyone not named Crespo could be that bad, or maybe just maybe, it is because Jose sees Lugo as some sort of an old testament God figure, testing Jose like God tested Job, with horror after horror. But like Job, Jose never lost faith. He got angry, sure. He may have cursed the heavens about Lugo’s four-year deal, screaming “Why, why, why are you doing this to Jose.” But he never lost faith.

And do you know why? Because Julio Lugo never gave Jose boils. If Julio had given Jose boils like God gave to Job, Jose would be all about benching him.

3. When Mike Timlin came into last night’s game, the near universal reaction at the SoSH post softball pool party was “Nooo, not Timlin.” Indeed, people would walk in the door to see the grizzled righty on the mound and immediately recoil.

This is wrong. This is dead wrong. Mike Timlin does not deserve this. We owe him our respect. He gave us years of brilliant service, he should have been on the mound in the 8th in game 7 of the 2003 ALCS, he has pitched 14 straight scoreless innings. That’s worthy of respect isn’t it? Still, that’s not enough to earn undying loyalty even as skills deteriorate, Jose knows that. No, the reason we should continue to respect Mike Timlin is that he is a large man who owns a lot of guns, and that and that alone makes him worthy of respect.

And fear. Lots and lots of fear.

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE GAME.

A Tale of Two Butches

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.

1. Well that’s just great.

David Ortiz has a torn meniscus, which, as best Jose can recall from Introduction to the Physical Sciences in eighth grade, is that shallow parabola of fluid at the top of a graduated cylinder. Jose had no idea that people had graduated cylinders in their knees, but he supposes that it explains why they always count fluid buildup in the knee in milliliters.

Yes, yes, they say the slugger won’t need surgery until after the season, if ever, but Jose can’t help but be concerned. It suggests that he may not recover his power this year, and what if he does need to go under Dr. Andrews’ shining blade?

Either way, there is a good chance that the Red Sox are going to have to add power or as the wonks call it “generating capacity” if they are going to make a run. With the trade deadline slinking towards us ominously yet alluringly, like a Times Square hooker, the Red Sox may need to make a move.

But what move?

A move for a move’s sake is fine on the dance floor but disasterous in these Major Leagues. Adding the 2007 equivalent of Rob Deer isn’t going to cut it (note: we already have that, his name is Wily Mo). Nope, the Red Sox need a blockbuster.

Jose has spent the last 20 hours furiously analyzing trade possibilities, throwing each one into the gas chromatograph of his mind and seeing what gets separated out. And here’s what Jose’s come up with—the Red Sox should make a move to acquire Kevin Garnett.

This makes, absolutely perfect sense, for everyone. Garnett wants to play for a winner and there is no NBA franchise he could actually be traded to that would offer him as good a chance at brining home a ring as the Red Sox. The Red Sox need power, and last time Jose checked, Garnett played power forward. They don’t call it “power forward” because the people who play it are powerless. Well, with the exception of Brian Scalabrine. Moreover, the Red Sox, unbound by the NBA’s restrictive salary cap, could offer Garnett a much more attractive compensation package than, say, the Golden State Warriors.

The remaining question is what can the Red Sox offer the Timberwolves? Lots, it turns out. What’s great about this trade is that, as a basketball team, the Timberwolves don’t value the same attributes as a baseball team, thus they are unlikely to fixate on untouchables such as Clay Buchholz or Jacoby Ellsbury like most Major League teams would. Rather, they are much more likely to be interested in attributes like height, passing ability, rebounding and shooting. Thus Jose proposes that the Red Sox offer the following package for Garnett. First, Mike Timlin who, as a skilled hunter, is the best shooter on the team and is also 6’4’’. Even better, it seems like he’s been trying to rebound or the entire season. Second, catching prospect George Kottaras. Kottaras was acquired in last year’s David Wells trade to be the catcher of the future, but has struggled thus far. However, in the NBA his amazing ability to pass balls will be rewarded rather than punished. Finally, the Red Sox should send Craig Hansen. It’s not that Hansen has any skills that the T’wolves would find particularly appealing. It’s just that he’s 6’5’’, sort of a head case and looks like the sort of guy who smokes a lot of dope. Sounds like a perfect fit for the NBA.

So that’s Jose’s trade proposal. Someone call Peter Vecsey and we can get the talks humming.

2. Mr. Butch the homeless eccentric once known as the “Mayor of Kenmore Square” died yesterday in a scooter accident. The death of the man born Harold Madison Jr. received extensive coverage in the Boston Globe, the Boston Herald and on WBUR. Maybe it was on the TV news too, after all, it did involve a tragic death, but Jose wouldn’t know; he doesn’t watch that crap.

That the death of an iconic and friendly homeless man got such extensive coverage made Jose happy. Mr. Butch was a genuinely nice and funny man, who made Kenmore Square a much more interesting place to live in the six years Jose spent living there. He added for more character to the place than 15 Eastern Standards ever could. But it also made Jose wonder about the nature of fame and notoriety.

Call it A Tale of Two Butches.

It is the story, the compare and contrast, of Mr. Butch and Butch Hobson. Both were once fixtures in Kenmore Square and both were drug addicts. Yet one came from the ranks of societies heroes, a baseball player, a manager, a star, while the other was a homeless man, the lowest of the low in this society of winners and losers.

And yet Jose cannot help but wonder, when Butch Hobson passes on, hopefully many years hence, will his image be on the front of the Globe Metro section? Will the slow talkers at WBUR take time in their morning news cast to mention his passing?

When one reaches the end of his days, it seems what people remember about him, what makes them pause and meditate on his life, his meaning as a human being is not whether he was one of the new class of Boston Brahmins or a lowly untouchable on the streets, but whether he was different and kind and funny.

That makes Jose smile, and he would suspect that if Mr. Butch is off somewhere watching the hullabaloo made over the untimely death of a homeless dope smoker from Worcester, he is smiling too.

A Tale of Two Butches

3. The Blue Jays, in town for a four game set, have had catastrophic injuries in the first half, with A.J. Burnett, Roy Halliday, Troy Glaus, Lyle Overbay, Sal Fasano and a whole host of other spending time on the DL.

Why didn’t Michael Moore discuss this in his health expose Sicko? If he’s going to claim that the Canadian health care system is so great, isn’t he obliged to explain why Canada’s only major league team has been among the most injured in baseball this year? Moreover, if only the rich in the U.S. can get decent health care, why have the Yankees been so injured? They’re incredibly rich.

Here’s the dirty little secret of the Canadian Health Care system. If a Blue Jays pitcher needs Tommy John surgery, not only must he wait in line to have the surgery, because the socialist Canadian system does not provide adequate capital for new medical technology, he can’t even get Tommy John Surgery. Instead, he has to settle for an older procedure, Mordecai “Three Finger” Brown surgery, which relies heavily on Canadian Club and a piece of wood to bite on for anesthesia and otherwise is exactly what it sounds like.

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE GAME.

On the Auction Block

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.

1. During yesterday’s telecast, Meg Vaillancourt, the former Globe reporter who converted her aggressive coverage of the plan to build a new stadium and the sale of the Red Sox into a cushy job as head of the Red Sox foundation (note: Hooray journalistic integrity!), revealed that as part of the “picnic in the park” auction, fans will be able to bid on “one of a kind” Red Sox items such as a game of Scrabble with Jonathan Papelbon or a quail hunting trip with Mike Timlin and Tim Wakefield.

While playing Scrabble with Papelbon might be fun, Jose is not convinced that hunting with Timlin and Wakefield is the best idea. Jose sort of imagines Wakefield out there hunting, just pumping bird shot into quail after quail, nice and easy. Then all of a sudden, not only is he unable to hit any quail he’s inadvertently shooting other hunters, airplanes, that sort of thing. Timlin, Jose would be less worried about, because if his shot is anything like his fastball, it’s arrow straight.

While the other items have not yet been made public, Jose’s crack reporting team has uncovered a number of items that will be available for bid

• Chance to strike out Julio Lugo.
• Bowling with Julian Tavarez.
• Work on proof of Fermat’s Last Theorem, with noted genius Alex Cora.
• Karaoke with Matsuzaka and Okajima
• Opportunity to kick Doug Mirabelli in the nuts.
• Have Kevin Youkilis sing Kiddush at your Shabbat dinner.
• Pap smear by Papelbon
• Tour of Hyde Park with Manny Delcarmen
• Buy Manny’s grill or car or whatever he’s got this month.

There are a lot of great items to bid on, way better than the Yankee auction. The best thing there is a pool party with Mariano Rivera. (Note: Wow, that is maybe the worst thing Jose has ever written. Should he have gone with marriage counseling from A-Rod instead?)

2. Recently Jose learned that he has gotten a link on the Web page of Tim Wendel, author of Castro’s Curveball, a book that Jose assumes must be about San Francisco’s famed gay baseball league.

But seriously, the book, is a fictionalized account of the Cuban leader’s baseball playing days. Since Castro was known to be a pitcher of some skill during his days at Belen College and the University of Havana (note: though he never played professionally) , it has often been wondered what might have happened if he’d had the stuff to compete at a major league level? Would history have turned out differently?

Jose, to be honest, finds the discussion a little trite. Sure, it’s fun to imagine, but Jose suspects that even if Castro had livelier stuff, it wouldn’t have made a lick of difference.

A far more interesting question is what might have happened if Papa Doc Duvalier had been an excellent drag bunter? The implications would have been stunning. As a tyrant and, Papa Doc was all too eager to sacrifice others for his own benefit. Perhaps if he had learned the honorable art of the sacrifice bunt, he would have understood that self-sacrifice is, in its own way, worthy.

Another interesting question is what would have transpired had Nikita Khrushchev been a baseball player? On any of the number of occasions when he banged his shoe on his desk during the UN General Assembly, perhaps his spikes would have gotten caught in the desk, embarrassing the Soviet leader and decreasing his prestige. Perhaps, so chastened, he would have lacked the courage to send missiles to Cuba.

Regardless, it seems like now might be a good time to start teaching Mahmoud Ahmadinejad to field a position.

Kruscheve Comes in spikes high

3. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. After tonight, Khe-Sahn Gabbard will have started just three big league games this year, and Jose will have ended up at two of them. That’s just not right.

Jose supposes it could work out okay. A few years ago, Jose thought he was so smart in his annual season ticket draft. He carefully selected games five days apart at the beginning of the season in order to get as many Pedro starts as possible. The only problem was that he miscounted, and instead got a healthy helping of Brian Rose starts, though one of those included a game winning single by Manny off of Mariano Rivera on a Friday night, so it wasn’t all bad. Similarly, the Sox won the first Gabbard start Jose saw this year.

Still, Jose cannot help but be a little disappointed that he is seeing Gabbard. It’s a little like buying tickets for AC/DC and expecting to see Bon Scott and then finding out that he died and that Brian Johnson will be singing instead. Wait… Brian Johnson was still kind of good. Maybe it’s more like expecting to vote for George McGovern and Tom Eagleton and then discovering the day before the election that Eagleton’s been replaced by Sargent Shriver. Wait, that’s no good either, Gabbard’s got a much better chance of winning tonight than either Eagleton or Shriver did of becoming Vice President.

Okay, Jose’s got it. Getting Red Sox tickets and then ending up with a Khe-Sahn Gabbard start is a lot like ordering kung pao chicken and then discovering that it’s the version of kung pao that’s 80 percent celery. Sure, it might be pretty good, but even if it is, you’re still going to be kind of disappointed.

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE GAME.

Who is Daisuke Matsuzaka?

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO THE GAME.

1. KEYS TO THE GAME PRESENTS
Ages of Empire

Today’s volume: Daisuke Matsuzaka

After Jose joined Manny yesterday in taking a well-deserved day off, the series ends today with Jose’s imperial analysis of the Japanese phenom Daisuke Matsuzaka. Now at first, Jose was tempted to equate Mr. Matsu to the French Empire, because France is where the gyroscope was invented in 1817. But of course, Jose then remembered that the French Empire was gone by 1817 and it was just the kingdom of France, which doesn’t fit the bill. Maybe when Jose compares each member of the starting rotation to a kingdom, he will come back to this.

But what are we to do then with Mr. Matsu? The best Jose can come up with is to compare him to the Skrull Empire. The Skrulls, of course are a race of short, shape shifting aliens that possess a vast empire in the Andromeda galaxy and have been known to tangle with the Fantastic Four. Maybe some were hypnotized into thinking they were cows. Jose figures they are the best analogy for Matsuzaka because like him, they are green, and their shapeshifting abilities are evocative of Matsuzaka’s curious transformations from pitcher who only seldom walks anyone to pitcher who walks everyone and back.

The best Jose could come up with?

On the other hand, this is a total cop out. Jose has promised you imperial analogies for the Sox rotation and he has to resort to fictional empires for two of the five? Lame.

Okay, so Jose will start thinking through the various empires listed in Civilization, the best video game ever that hasn’t injured Joel Zumaya, and come up with something real.

Any ideas? Anyone?

All right, Jose’s got it. Mr. Matsu is like the Incas because he loves the mountains and can’t comprehend the wheel. No, wait. He’s more like the Aztecs because he enjoys ripping out the hearts of his enemies and is vulnerable to European disease. Or is he more like the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth because when people look back at him, they’ll be surprised to find out that he was once a really big deal?

Damn it.

That’s the problem with Mr. Matsu isn’t it? He’s still an enigma. Even almost half way through the season, Jose is not totally sure what we have in him. Will he be a Mongol horde dominating with sheer power? The Greeks dominating for long past their military prime through the subtlety of their thought and artistry? Or perhaps the British Empire combining a variety of tools, the ruthlessness of arms with the soft power of culture and intellect. Or perhaps he will not dominate at all. Perhaps rather than being an empire, he will be one of those many nations that does not dominate but simply persists, like the Kurds, the Jews or the Armenians, that battle adversity for generations to often thrive, sometimes struggle, but never dominate.

That, or maybe he’s the Vikings because they both enjoy eating fish.

2. For those of you who haven’t seen it, Elizabeth Edwards, wife of presidential candidate John Edwards delivered an absolutely cutting rebuke to professional b*tch Anne Coulter the other day. Edwards asked Coulter to end personal attacks, such as suggesting that it would be good if John Edwards were killed by terrorists and joking that he had a bumper sticker reading “ask me about by dead son” on his car.

The normally nimble, if evil, Coulter seemed uncharacteristically flustered, and while incapable of shame, at least appeared chastened at being called to task by the mother of the child whose death she had mocked.

This got Jose thinking. Who’s going to do this to Dan Shaughnessy? Shaughnessy is the Coulter, of the Boston sports scene. Thin and lanky? Check. Hate-filled and borderline racist? Check. Adopts a vicious persona in order to sell books? You betcha. Prominent Adam’s apple? Indeed.

So who is going to call out old Dan? Who will be the Elizabeth Edwards to his Coulter Bean… err… Anne Coulter?

Just attacking these sorts of folks has no affect. They love to be attacked, to be called names and to have their competence questioned. It raises their profile, it gets ink and it moves merch. No, the only way to deal with them is to go face to face with them, and rather than yelling and screaming, rather than fighting them in their medium, simply ask them to stop their disgraceful behavior. They won’t, of course, but when, on television, they are forced to look into their adversary’s eyes and defend the awful things they said, they are exposed for who they are, cruel, opportunistic bullies.

When Edwards confronted Coulter, she was left with nothing to say but ask if Edwards wanted her to just stop talking and writing. Implicit, is that if she could not be mean, if she could not be vile, she would have nothing to say, not word one. If she could not call 9-11 widows harpies and rejoice in mocking parents for their dead children, she would have nothing, she would be nothing.

If Manny Ramirez were to go up to Shaughnessy on camera and ask him to stop the stereotyping, if Pedro were to ask why Shaughnessy has nothing to say about Roger’s special treatment in New York, but was so quick to brand Pedro a diva, what would he say? “Do you just want me to stop writing?”

Dan, Anne, if that’s what it takes, you bet. One can criticize without being cruel, attack without seeking to destroy. Can you? Maybe not, but then leave the discourse to someone who can.

3. Seeing that his baseball career might be nearing an end, embattled Red Sox pitcher Mike Timlin (note: who else wants to contribute to the gold watch?) gave the Boston Globe some thoughts on his plans for future employment.

To the surprise of many, the statuesque Timlin suggested that he may take up exotic dancing, claiming that he planned to “Strip everything off.”

But, Timlin added, being a quality adult entertainer is not easy. From dealing with wardrobe to working on dance moves, Timlin expects the new career to be challenge.

"Obviously, completely redoing your whole get-up is not easy, because you have routines and you have things you do,” explained the righty. “But that's what we're trying to get done."
Timlin also expressed concerns about having his anatomy compared to other dancers saying “As time goes, if you look over anybody's ‘stats,’… they're swinging the ‘bat’ really well. So their confidence is really high.”

Sox skipper Tito Eurona thought Timlin’s girth would not be an issue, telling the Globe “Here's a guy that's handled a real heavy ‘role’”

(Note: All quotes are real and taken from an Amalie Benjamin piece in today’s Globe. Jose can not help it if she put them in the wrong context in the paper.)

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO THE GAME.