Wait... It's a Day Game?

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

1. Did you know that today’s Red Sox-Blue Jays game has a scheduled start time of 12:37 PM? Yeah, neither did Jose, which is why today’s KEYS will, much like David Eckstein, be short, and of inferior quality! But at least they will be a spark plug.

Let’s only hope that the Red Sox didn’t forget the early time too, or in the case of today’s starter Julienned Tavarez, that he did forget.

2. SINCE THE SHIFT HAS WORKED SO WELL AT TAKING BASE HITS AWAY FROM DAVID ORTIZ” JOSE THOUGHT THAT MAYBE HE SHOULD TRY USING IT AGAINST EXTREMELY TALENTED PLAYERS FOR OTHER TEAMS” LIKE TONIGHT”S BLUE JAYS STARTER ROY HALLADAY>

AS YOU CAN SEE” JOSE IS HOLDING DOWN THE SHIFT KEY RIGHT NOW> YEAH, IT’S A LITTLE WEIRD AND IT LEAVES MANY OF JOSE”S FINGERS OUT OF POSITION” (NOTE: AND IT MAKES ALL COMMAS QUOTATION MARKS AND PERIODS CARROTS) BUT HE HOPES IT WILL WORK> THAT SAID” HE CAN’T REACH THE “T” SO WELL WITH HIS LEFT HAND AND IS HAVING TO TRY TO OVERCOMPENSATE BY REACHING FOR IT WITH HIS RIGHT>

STILL” THE SHIFT IS WORTH TRYING UNTIL IT STOPS WORKING” RIGHT?

Blue Jays Manager John Gibbons plots

strategy for the Ortiz shift.

3. John Lester has been promoted to AAA Pawtucket after absolutely tearing up Greenville as he continues his return from cancer. While one should be wary about drawing too much from his domination of single A hitters, one can extrapolate something from the fact that Lester was throwing strikes. As you recall, last year, Lester struggled with walks at the major league level, despite having had pretty good control in the minors. This leads to a rather obvious question. Can cancer increase the number balls? Jose’s friend Jamie, speculated, rather shrewdly, that perhaps the silent toll the cancer was taking on Lester’s body was preventing him from recuperating fully between starts and therefore hurting his control.

It’s an interesting theory, but it is counterintuitive, thus Jose remains skeptical. After all, we know for a fact that caner can decrease the number of balls thanks to Mike Lowell. (Note: Cue angry emails.)

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

Not Down on Cocomo

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

1. Cocomo, the dubious centerfield combination of Rococo Crisp and Wily Mo Pena finally got in gear last night with two hits each (note: though Pena was technically playing right), including a monstrous 450 foot blast to center field by Pena. In light of this achievement, Jose though they deserved a musical tribute in the style of The Beach Boys.

‘Gainst Texas, Toronto, get some base hits pronto,

The Angels, Seattle, let’s put up battle,

The night time, the day, baby why don’t we play

Center field?

In between left and right,

There’s some guys called Cocomo,

If they can’t hit, we’re gonna blow,

and will not play in the fall.

Sliders slide away,

For a fastball having to pray,

Because you can’t hit the curve.

Another sad hitting display,

Down goes Kokomo.

‘Gainst Texas, Toronto, get some base hits pronto,

The Angels, Seattle, let’s put up battle,

The night time, the day, baby why don’t we play?

Ooo and in the field that Cocomo,

One guy is fast,

While the other’s slow,

But the fast one cannot throw.

Down goes Cocomo.

Hamate. Finger. Injuries that linger.

Diving for the ball,

Playing caroms off the wall,

Cannot track off the crack of the bat, the defense tends to appall.

Hitting seven or eight,OBP that’s not too great,

That dreamy look while pitches go by,

Is gonna make us cry.

Down goes Cocomo.

‘Gainst Texas, Toronto, get some base hits pronto,

The Angels, Seattle, let’s put up battle,

The night time, the day, baby why don’t we play?

Ooo and in the field that Cocomo,

One guy is fast,

While the other’s slow,

But the fast one cannot throw.

Down goes Cocomo.

Jacoby Ellsbury, get here in a hurry.

Every pitcher knows,

Don’t throw heat to Cocomo,

Breaking stuff is the way to go,

If you must face either one.

Down goes Cocomo.

‘Gainst Texas, Toronto, get some base hits pronto,
The Angels, Seattle, let’s put up battle,
The night time, the day, baby why don’t we play?

Ooo and in the field that Cocomo,
One guy is fast,
While the other’s slow,
But the fast one cannot throw.
Down goes Cocomo.

2. Jose is not sure what to make of last night’s incredibly weird start by Mr. Matsu. The righty absolutely cruised for three innings and then completely fell apart in the fourth after missing a borderline strike three call, a borderline play at first and a borderline error by Julio Lugo. It’s not just that he stopped being able to get people out, it’s that suddenly he turned into Rick Ankiel, skipping balls in like a cricket bowler and sailing pitches high above the catcher.

This alone would be weird, but certainly not unprecedented. Sometimes pitchers are going along fine and then they completely lose it. It happens. What is exceedingly odd, however, is that Mr. Matsu recovered completely in the fifth and sixth setting down all six batters he faced and striking out most of them. Who the hell falls apart and comes back together so quickly?

Jose knew he had heard about something exactly like this before, so he did some research. Was it Tom Seaver? Nope. Fernando Valenzuela? Uh-uh. Perhaps Senator Jim Bunning? Not him either. And then he found it. It’s Captain Marvel. Duh. Jose heard the editors of Gone and Forgotten, one of the links featured on this very page talking about it on This American Life some time ago. Captain Marvel (note: not to be confused with Captain Marvel) was an alien robot sent from his dying planet to preserve peace on Earth who had the power to fall apart by yelling “split”—literally, head legs and feet flopping everywhere-- and then to come back together by yelling “Xam!” Apparently, he draws this power from something called Element X. And here’s the funny thing. Right before he struck out Royce Clayton in the fourth, the first indication that he had gotten himself back together, Jose could swear he heard Mr. Matsu yell “Xam.” Or maybe it was “Bam” and he was doing a tribute to Emeril or the late wrestling great Bam Bam Bigelow. (Note: Does Element X count as a performance enhancing drug?)

So, the way Jose sees it, it appears that Daisuke Matsuzaka, rather than being Japanese at all is, like Captain Marvel, an alien robot from a far away world sent here to protect humanity. That’s the simplest explanation for what happened last night. This means that the Japanese press can all go home, and Fenway can start making accommodations for the alien press. You know, replacing the sushi in the press buffet with entire cows, replacing the grounds crew with alien crop circle machines, that sort of thing.

Matsuzaka in the fourth last night.

3. Over the weekend, Jose had a conversation with his friend Jamie and Jamie’s brother, legendary SoSHer RomeroRomine about the unique place Manny Ramirez holds in American sports. A couple beers in, RomeroRomine posed a fascinating question: Will this be the year that Manny finally starts to fall off? Wait… that’s not fascinating. It’s terrifying. Sorry.

The fascinating questions was: Has there ever been a hall-of-fame caliber baseball player who was so spacey, so prone to inexplicable lapses of concentration and yet was so universally beloved?

After much thought, the only one we could come up with was Yogi Berra. (Note: Though the more Jose thinks about it, the more it seems Babe Ruth might fit. Couldn’t you see Manny being caught stealing to end a World Series?) Of course, Yogi went on to manage an actual major league team… well, he went on to manage the Yankees anyway, and Jose has a very hard time imagining Manny managing even a little league team.

If even a smart guy like Gabe Kapler can, as reported by the Globe, inadvertently render a pitcher ineligible to play by failing to change his lineup card after a rain out, can you imagine what Skipper Manny might do?

Jose imagines you would see him calling for shifts to right against left handed hitters, ordering pitchouts to leadoff hitters, and of course positioning the left fielder inside the left field wall or possibly at a car show in Atlantic City.

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

Making It To the Show

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

1. Jose has arrived.

At long last, in his fourth season of toil in the seedier districts of Red Sox blogdom, Jose has at last emerged into the mainstream alternative press. The first hint came prior to opening day, when Jose’s blog email received a press release from NPR informing him that they would be airing an interview with slugger Gary Sheffield on the subject of the steroid scandal. Needless to say, Jose dismissed it as spam, assuming that NPR stood for the Nigerian Petroleum Resource, and that Gary Sheffield, his career nearing a close, was figuring to raise some money by offering large finders fees to anyone who would send him checks. It appears now, though it remains unconfirmed, that NPR may have stood for National Public Radio, and the story may have been legit. Whoops.

What has changed Jose’s mind is an email he received on Sunday morning from The New Yorker, the esteemed intellectual magazine that is best known for it’s cerebral black and white cartoons, which, as a saying of undermined origin has it, could all be better captioned “Go f*ck yourself.” It seems that in the years since Tina Brown fled the smoldering ruins of the magazine, it had abandoned its policy of writing exclusively on Spike Lee and Woody Allen, and had rededicated itself to its previous, long-standing editorial policy of publishing non-fiction articles on subjects about which Jose gives a sh*t. In this, case Manny Ramirez.

The New Yorker, validated Jose’s existence, by sending him an advanced copy of the Manny story by Ben McGrath, scheduled to run in the April 23 issue (note: the one with the clever drawing on the cover) and a press release offering Jose the invitation interview McGrath. Okay, technically, it was an invitation to anyone getting the release, but Jose will pretend it was just him, because that makes him feel loved.

The excellent and lively profile, enriched by an unprecedented nine minutes of interview time with Manny (note: nice job Ben!) offers a number of fascinating revelations, including:

• When then Sox GM Dan Duquette asked Manny why he sometimes stepped into the batters box after ball four, Manny responded “I don’t keep track of the balls. I don’t keep track of the strikes, either, until I got two. Duke, I’m up there looking for a pitch I can hit. If I don’t get it, I wait for the umpire to tell me to go to first. Isn’t that what you’re paying me to do?”
• David Ortiz’s comment for the story? “Manny Ramirez is a crazy motherf*cker.
  

Sadly absent, was any comment on the rumor that Ramirez is from Mars and simply groks hitting.

Of course, now as Jose rereads the press release, he notices that the issue is currently on the stands, so much for having the inside track. Guess Jose isn’t so big time after all.

(Note: That said, Jose is going to try to send some questions about the article off to author Ben McGrath. Post your questions in the comments section of KEYS and Jose will send them along. Unless they’re stupid. Then he promises nothing.)

Stranger in a Strange Land

2. Jose went to the Patriot’s Day game yesterday with a nervous Sam Melendez, Jose’s brother, who was wracked with anxiety about whether delays to the start of the game would force him to leave early to see his marathon running girlfriend romp through Kenmore Square. As we passed the time waiting for the rain delay to be lifted and the game to begin, Sam taunted Jose with what he assured him would be some “great KEYS material.”

“Fantastic,” responded Jose. “Jose loves things that write themselves.”

Sam dangled the material coyly, allowing anticipation to build until the third inning when he finally saw fit to reveal his insight. His suggestion, his comic vision, was that when it came time to sing Sweet Caroline in the eighth inning stretch, Red Sox fans should belt out “loving me, loving Drew” instead of “loving me, loving you.”

Umm… okay.

Sam explained that this would honor right fielder DJ Dru and was totally funny when he was at a game once sitting next to some guy named Drew.

Jose remained underwhelemed.

“Jose supposes he could use that,” he responded slowly. “Maybe in a KEY about how you gave him this really unfunny idea. Really, that idea is like a Wily Mo Pena at bat this year. Lots of anticipation, even more disappointment.” (Note: Okay, Jose didn’t actually use the Wily Mo metaphor, but at least he’s going to come clean now, lest Seth Mnookin write one of his holier than thou, “hey, this guy is totally making things up” articles about Jose. Jose needs to fend those off, lest anyone learn the awful truth that he is not actually a Puerto Rican former big league reliever.)

But Sam Melendez was not to be denied. He thought for a moment and then fired back.

“Even though ‘loving me, loving Drew’ is funny, how about this. Since we’re platooning Coco Crisp and Wily Mo Pena in the outfield and neither of them can hit these days, can’t we just call them Kokomo for short?”

Yes. Yes, we can. Song lyrics to follow.

3. An open letter to the two women outside that bar who told Jose that game time had been postponed until 1:05.

Dear Two Women,

Thanks a lot. As you know, Jose hates entering the ballgame before it starts on a rainy day, lest he get stuck sitting in the rain swilling $7 beers for three hours before game time. So it was incredibly thoughtful of you, as you saw Jose and his brother walking by about to leave the marathon to go to the park for the 12:15 start, to ring your cowbells loudly and announce that first pitch had been delayed until 1:05.

Even though first pitch had not been delayed until 1:05, Jose really appreciates it, because had he gotten there on time, he might have seen the first seven runs of the nine scored that day, and why would he want that? Jose goes to games to see pitching and defense, not run scoring. What a shame that Jose’s brother snuck into the bar to urinate and saw that the game had started, or we might have missed two or three inning, and kept the game to two hours. Oh well. What’s done is done.

Anyway, thanks again, and please let Jose know if he can ever return the favor. If you need him to tell you what time a plane departs, whether you’re supposed to cross the street on red or green, or how often to take your heart medication, he’ll be happy to help.

Your pal,

Jose Melendez B.A.

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

Executive Privilege

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

1. KEYS TO THE GAME comes to you today from our nation’s capitol, Washington, D.C., mere steps from the White House where President George W. Bush is no doubt debating whether, if he traded Sammy Sosa to Iraq, Sosa might, with the help of drugs, emerge as exactly the sort of strong man Iraq needs. (Note: If there were controlled substances that enhanced governance like performance enhancing drugs (PEDs) enhance athletic performance, would we be opposed to them? Would we regard it as cheating? Jose has heard that these drugs may already exist. He thinks they’re called governance Enhancing Drugs, or GEDs. He hears people talk about getting them all the time, and how much better their lives will be after they get a GED, so he figures they must be pretty effective. Jose thinks pretty much everyone in the Bush administration should score some GEDs, because they certainly don’t seem to have them now.)

Anyway, President Bush is the first U.S. President to previously serve as President of a Major League Baseball team (note: Clinton’s fantasy team the Little Rock Little Cocks, does not count), and Jose wonders what he might do, now with six years of presidential leadership under his belt, if called upon to take over a team today? Since Jose has no interest in what he would do should he take leadership over the Texas Rangers, let us contemplate what he would do if given the reins of the Boston Red Sox.

• Fire Theo Epstein and replace him with the President of BC College Republicans. It’s not because Theo is a Democrat, but rather because he is insufficiently vigilant in taking action against the many immigrants on the team. Or was it that he’s a weak manager?
• Elevate bullpen terror alert to orange “High risk of terror from bullpen performance.”
• Establish new Department of Homefield Security, dedicated to wiretaps. Hire 30 agents needed to monitor all of Curt Euro’s calls.
• Establish faith-based base running programs.
• Reward Manny’s attention to detail by making him manager, giving him medal.
• Issue declaration that the Red Sox have not conceded defeat in 2006 AL East race. Vow to continue 2006 season until Red Sox win division.
• Declare the 2006 Red Sox the AL East champions, even though they did not win the most games, hire army of lawyers to enforce claim.
• Insist that the luxury tax on the Yankees should be cut in order make life better for the Kansas City Royals and Minnesota Twins.
• Order abduction and torture of Omar Minaya, because his first name sounds Arabic.
• Encourage Hazel Mae to pose for pictures pointing at genitals of naked, Kevin Millar.
• Award huge, no-bid contract to Manny Ramirez… wait that one really happened.


2. As Jose was driving to work yesterday (note: or being driven more accurately). You don’t think that award winning bloggers drive themselves do you? Of course not, they hop in their swank Ford Contours and have their fathers drive them), he saw a brilliant business concept, one of those few ideas that is a virtual license to print money. Real money. Euros, not worthless U.S. dollars.

Now, Jose is no great businessman, to be honest he finds the fact that food appears on grocery store shelves as nothing short of miraculous, but he knew that this idea was a winner when he saw it. You know how it is. Sometimes you see an idea that’s so simple, so perfect that you just know it’s going to make a ton of money, like Crystal Pepsi or the war in Iraq, and you can’t help but wonder how you didn’t come up with it yourself,

As Jose’s vehicle jerked to a stop on Charles Street, it was there, right in front of him on the back of a tired looking truck—yankeepestcontrol.com. A Web site that provides skilled professionals trained to control the Yankees? It’s a goldmine. Imagine that the Yankees are coming to town for, let’s say a critical five game season determining series. You’re short staffed and your bullpen is thin, so what do you do? Do you panic and blow five games? Do you turn on your future Hall of Fame left fielder? No, you just call Yankee Pest Control and let them fix the problem.

And why should this be limited to Boston? They can probably travel right? Why couldn’t Tampa Bay or Baltimore contract for their services too?

So Jose thought he would check it out, see if he could get a number, or have some pamphlets sent to Tito. Talk about disappointment. Rather than featuring pictures of A-Rod, Giambi, Jeter and the like with big red Xs through them, there were pictures of termites, carpenter ants and rodents. Not a single Yankee to be found. (Note: Well, almost. Jose is pretty sure there was a picture of Jorge Posada on there, though it might have been a rat.)

As Jose did a little more research, he discovered two more disturbing things. First this company is dedicated primarily to killing. That’s not cool. Jose doesn’t like the Yankees, but he certainly doesn’t want them killed. (Note/Bad Taste Alert: Has anyone looked into what this company was doing when Thurman Munson and Corey Lidle took their famous flights?) Second, they appear to be far more focused on controlling insects than on controlling Yankees, in which case they should really consider calling themselves Insect Pest Control.

Still as disheartening as this discovery is, the good news, for any entrepreneurs out there, is that a market niche still exists. Find a niche and fill it, right? There are Yankees out there just begging to be controlled, who will be man enough to do the job? Jose’s thinking Mr. Matsu. Those Japanese are pretty good entrepreneurs.

3. Jose did the right thing yesterday.

Jose can look out the window. Jose can read a weather map. Jose can analyze a Doppler radar reading and he didn’t like what he saw. The rain was on its way, on its way with a vengeance, and it was going to wash the Seattle Mariners right on out of town. So you know what Jose did? He called it. At 11:03 AM Eastern Daylight Time yesterday, Jose called it. He reached the conclusion that it was going to rain for too hard and too long to get a KEYS in, so he stopped it right there and then, unlike Red Sox owner John W. Henry who waited until four or five PM to call the game.

Shame on John Henry. He allowed fans to sit there sucking down beer and popcorn and Luis Tiant brand Cuban sandwiches for a good three hours after the gates opened before he bowed to the inevitable wrath of the gods. But not Jose. Jose wanted to be responsible to his fans, and to be on the level with them. So he made the decision not to write at 11:03. Sure he didn’t tell you guys, but you knew didn’t you? Of course, because everyone knows you cannot operate a laptop in the rain. You just can’t. The water plays total havoc on the keyboard.

And you know what the consequences were? Jose gave up potential thousands in concession sales. Sure no one has bought anything in months, but this could have been the day where people started flowing into the KEYS store and buying books, thongs and t-shirts. Yes, Jose could have left you there quaffing six dollar glasses of watered down Jose Brau and scarfing down “Jose Jot Dogs” at $4.25 a pop, but he didn’t and you know why? Because he respects and cares about his fans. Also, he is apparently unlicensed to sell beer and sausage on the net.

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

Rituals Ancient and Austere

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

1. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Japanese culture, the rituals that precede the epic confrontation between Japans’ two biggest baseball stars, Mr. Matsu and Ichiro, this evening may confuse you. In order to assist you, Jose has put the one-eight of his brain that is Japanese to work, summarizing the finest guides to the ritual, the internet has to offer.

Matsuzaka mounts the mound and Ichiro enters the batter box even though first pitch may be minutes away. There are strict traditions and rituals that must be obeyed in preparation for the at bat. The pitcher and batter first face away from each other and perform shiko, a foot stomping ritual which drives demons from the field. Next, each takes ladle of water Matsuzaka from a relief pitcher, probably Hideki Okajima, and Ichiro from the man on deck. The water purifies the field. Also, for Ichiro’s benefit, it slows down the infield.
Next each takes a first handful of salt and throws it onto the field, infuriating the ground crew, who will now have to deal with brown spots for the rest of the year. Each then squats and faces the other. From here they clap their hands in unison, in the rhythm of the intro to “Put Me in Coach” to summon the gods. Gods love clapping. The players also turn their palms upwards, as if to say, “come here and let’s play that game where I try to slap your hand and you try to get away.”

Then comes the stare down. Each man crouches down and glares at the other. Eye black helps! Over the course of the next several minutes, the cycle of stare downs and sewing the ground with salt continues cyclically, until one man blinks or starts to laugh.
How can you tell when it’s time for the first pitch?
Well, aside from the yelling of “play ball," the umpire will offer a cloth to each player to wipe the sweat off of his hands, or alternatively, to blow his nose.
Now and only now, with the elegant, ancient ritual complete, the park purified, the warriors cleaned of sweat does Matsuzaka strike out Ichiro on five pitches. Banzai!

Please try to be sympathetic to what may seem like a strange and foreign custom. And remember, even though the ritual preceding the first pitch may take a full five minutes, we can handle it. It can’t possible take longer than Nomar’s ritual before each pitch.

(Note: Thanks to Canada’s Sumo page, for providing insight into this mysterious ritual. See Ron Borges how easy it is to not plagiarize?)

2. While the NESN television crew (note: or so Jose heard) failed to immediately identify the long standing animus between Sox reliever Brendan Donnelly and the Mariners’ Jose Guillen, the Globe’s Nick Cafardo did a nice write up today capturing the sordid history. (Note: Reader Moises Sabina of Portland, Maine suggested that Jose nickname Donnelly “Brendan ‘Black’ Donnelly,” in honor of what is apparently a popular television program. Not a terrible idea. However, in light of the recent trouble radio host Don Imus has gotten into over racial remarks about the Rutgers women’s basketball team, Jose thinks he will skip anything that could ever, even vaguely by the most self-righteous of people, be interpreted as a racial remark. Moises may not understand this, as there are few people of color in Portland, Maine, but the only way this joke would be appropriate is to call him Brendan “African-American” Donnelly. And that’s not funny. Wait… hold on. Al Sharpton on line one.)

But Jose digresses. While Cafardo did a good job of identifying the most obvious causes of the feud (note: Guillen through a fit when Donnelly and other Angles pitchers did not issue retaliatory beanballs in 2004, and responded by pointing out pine tar on Donnelly’s glove in 2005) he missed what we liberals call “ the root causes.”

Let’s look at the timeline:

March 6, 2004—Donnelly tells Guillen the seat next to him on spring training bus to Tucson is taken. It is not.
March 10, 2004—Guillen calls Donnelly a “stupid head.”
April 4, 2004— Donnelly sticks hand of sleeping Guillen in warm water—leading to nickname “piss boy.”
April 29, 2004—Guillen has sex with Donnelly’s mother.
April 29, 2004—Donnelly’s mother gives Guillen herpes
May 15, 2004—Guillen breaks Donnelly’s glasses
May 30, 2004—Donnelly calls INS on Guillen.
June 7, 2004—Guillen calls DEA on Donnelly
June 20, 2004—Donnelly post some really mean stuff on Guillen’s myspace page about how he’s a whore and how he thinks he’s so great but he’s not.
July 4, 2004—Guillen celebrates Fourth of July by putting cherry bomb in Donnelly’s locker.
July 20, 2004—Donnelly tells Guillen to go back to Hati.
July 20, 2004—Guillen corrects Donnelly on the geography of Hispaniola.
August 1, 2004—Peace and Truce of God, nothing happens.
August 2, 2004—Donnelly replaces Guillen’s normal bats with sticks of TNT.
August 20, 2004—Guillen blows up Donnelly’s car.
September 5, 2004—Donnelly puts Guillen through a table.
September ???, 2004—Guillen rips Angels pitchers for failing to retaliate after hit batsmen,
September 27, 2004—Guillen suspended for remainder of season without pay.
September 29, 2004—Guillen suspends Donnelly naked from a flag pole in front of Angel Stadium.
December 25, 2004—Donnelly sends Guillen lump of coal for Christmas.
January 6, 2005—Guillen sends Donnelly Hunta virus for Greek Christmas
June 14, 2005—Guillen points out Donnelly has pine tar on his glove, Donnelly suspend eight games
April 11, 2006—Donnelly strike out Guillen on three pitches in Fenway debut,
April 11, 2006--Guillen acts like a punk.

Jose’s not saying it’s Spiderman vs. Dr. Octopus or Shawn Michaels vs. Brett Hart or even that it’s The Cosby Show vs. The Simpsons. But there’s a lot of history and it’s not pretty. And you know what they say about history. He who doesn’t learn from history is doomed to take a fastball in the ear.

3. According to the Globe, peppy new shortstop Julio Lugo struggled to find his way to Fenway Park for yesterday’s home opener and nearly arrived late to the ballpark. Sources say that, while Lugo drove very quickly, far quicker than his predecessor at short Alex Gonzalez, his failure to get his foot set on the break pedal before making decisions about which way to go led to some sloppy performance and possibly to inadvertently throwing away his map.

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

Just Another Game That Jose Doesn't Have a Ticket For

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

1. Wow it’s the home opener. Super great. Jose is so excited. Fenway reopening, new Conigliaro’s corner, snazzy new super duper ultra max premium seating with built in massage, blah, blah, blah. It doesn’t get any better than this, or something.

Really, it’s the home opener, what could be more fantabulous? After all, this is, what ,the seventh game of the season? That’s a lucky, lucky number.

Okay, have you caught the sarcasm in Jose’s tone yet? Can you tell that he is less than overwhelmed that it is the home opener. You know why? Because the home opener is a sorry, lazy excuse for a real opener, a man’s opener that begins on the first day of the season. Jose has been to the home opener twice, once in 1987 and once last year and on neither occasion was it the real opener. In 1987, he cried like a little girl, not because of the touching tribute to the defending AL champions, not because spring was back, but because we had trouble finding parking and he missed what was, as best he can recall, Al Nipper’s first inning of work. Sure who wouldn’t cry at lost time with Al Nipper? But still, he was a baby, and all he was crying about what was just another regular season game. Real fans travel to Kansas City or Oakland or wherever to get their fix as quickly as possible. What did Jose do? Nothing. That’s what.

So what is the big deal about today? It’s the Red Sox and St. Josh a Beckett versus a lousy Seattle team with God only knows who on the mound. Whoop–de-freaking-do. (Note: Jeff Weaver. Even more whoop-de-do. Blunts for everyone.)

Sit out in the cold, drinking $7 beers and chomping on stuffed intestines? No thank, you, no thank you at all. Jose would much rather be in his office creating jobs… unlike his boss a Mariners fan who gets to the game. Not that Jose is bitter.

2. This harkens back to the weekend’s series with the Rangers, but Jose still wants to mention it. Has anyone thought about the implications of Sammy Sosa’s return to Texas for national security?

Back in the 2000 presidential campaign, then Texas Governor George W. Bush answered a question about what his worst mistake had been, by saying that it had been trading Sammy Sosa when he was owner of the Texas Rangers. Now that Sosa has returned to Arlington, what is the “after action report” going to teach the President? What will be the lessons learned?

Here’s what Jose fears. What keep Jose up and night is the concern that president will conclude that if we leave the U.S. military in Iraq for 18 years, we can just get them back no problem, and so what if their a lot less strong and effective? Sammy hit a homer against the Red Sox didn’t he?

Jose would urge the President to learn a different lesson. When he traded Sosa along with Wilson Alvarez and Scott Fletcher to the White Sox in 1989, at least he got Harold Baines in return. Harold Baines was ho hum with the Rangers, but he was, over the course of his career, a terrific hitter. So, if we’re going to send something valuable to Iraq for 18 years, lives, money etc. at least try to get something of value in return: democracy, economic security, peace, something. Because right now, the war is looking an awful lot like Jeff Bagwell for Larry Anderson.

3. In a move that seems designed to increase the team’s depth, the Red Sox yesterday acquired Diamondbacks pitching prospect J.D. Durbin. In addition to giving the Sox another live arm in the minor leagues, the acquisition of Jonathan Adam Durbin gives the Red Sox depth in “people named J.D. who’s given first and middle names do not begin with J. D. in sequence.”

The move is reminiscent of 1993 when the Red Sox attempted to bolster a sagging line up and questionable pitching by stocking up on Scotts, combing infielders Scott Fletcher (note: appearing twice in this KEYS!) and Scott “The Worst Two Time All-Star Ever” Cooper, with pitchers Scott Bankhead and Scott Taylor.

The Patriots also attempted the Scott strategy in 1993, carrying quarterbacks Scott Zolak and Scott Secules, running back Scott Lockwood and kicker Scott Sisson.
The Celtics efforts to acquire Byron Scott were, however, unsuccessful.

The end result of this bold strategy was an 80-82 baseball team, a 5-11 football team, and a 45 percent increase in the market price of haggis in Boston.

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

Rock, Paper, Scissors

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

1. He really is “The Devious One.”

Forget about the snazzy array of fastballs, sliders and change ups Mr. Matsu showed yesterday in his American debut, forget about the fact that, for the first time since Pedro left town, a Red Sox game had that “any time this guy pitches something amazing could happen” feeling. Forget it all. What struck Jose was the mind games. Devious, indeed.

According to the Red Sox radio broadcast, prior to the game Mr. Matsu apparently announced that his first regular season pitch in the Majors was going to be a fastball. He came right on out and said it. That is, of course, insane. David DeJesus is a legitimate Major Leaguer, and near .300 hitter, and you’re just going to tell him what the first pitch is? It is lunacy, it is irresponsible, it is… brilliant.

It’s like Rock, Paper, Scissors really. For years, Jose could not beat his brother at RPS. Couldn’t do it. Whenever there was an important decision to be made, like who would get the window seat on an airplane, or who would get mom’s liver in a pinch, we’d go RPS, and Jose would lose. Every time he would lose. Maybe he could pick out one win in a best of three series, but he was absolutely the pre-2004 Red Sox. No matter what he did, no matter what he tried, he always came up short. But then he learned to be devious. One day, he heard a story on NPR about the world Rock, Paper, Scissors championship. In it, the reporter went up against a professional, who told her, in a very intense manner, before they began “I’m going to throw rock.” And here’s the amazing thing. He did throw rock. And he won.

He told her what he was going to do, he did it, and she responded by doing the one thing that would guarantee defeat, throwing scissors. Jose was amazed. Since then, he has adopted this strategy. And his fortunes have changed considerably. Now he reliably wins RPS showdowns with his brother by declaring “Jose is going to throw rock” before each throw. And in his brother’s eyes, in that brief second before the throw, Jose can tell what he’s thinking, whether he sees the loyal and honest brother, who surely would never lie about something as inconsequential as his next throw, or whether he sees the aggressive older brother, twisting his arm behind his back until he tapped out in backyard wrestling matches. And with that knowledge, Jose can identify the right throw to make.

This is basically what Matsuzaka did yesterday. He looked David DeJesus, straight in the eye, told him what he was going to throw, and then threw it.

The truth. How much more devious can you get?

Because while it was the truth in that case, the truth sets up the future lie. He did what he said he was going to do, making it all the more astonishing at some key point in the future when Mr. Matsu will reveal what he plans to do and then NOT do it. Even the home run DeJesus hit in the sixth (note: by the way, he fouled off Dice-K’s first pitch) was probably an ultimate setup for something big down the road. At least, that’s Jose’s story.

But this is far bigger than DeJesus.

Sometime in the future, Mr. Matsu will casually tip a pitch, let some critical batter know his plan, perhaps at the biggest moment of his career. And at that moment, the batter will know, will be certain, that the fastball is coming. After all, Matsuzaka told the truth to David DeJesus. And he’ll see it in slow motion, the ball flying out of Dice-Ks hand, spinning toward the plate.

“He did it, he really did it,” the batter will think. “He tipped fastball, and now it’s coming. I’ve got a bead on it, I’m going to crush, it. I’m going to be the hero.”

His shoulder makes the violent transition from cocked to swinging, his weight shifts from back foot to front, and the slab of ash whips around like a… well, like a whip. Collision imminent, bat to ball, he tenses his forearm ready for the recoil, and then…
Back to full speed. The ball drops. Drops heavy, like a ton of bricks on Jupiter. Woosh. Strike three, side retired.

And there’s the batter, twisted, contorted, with nothing to do, nothing to think save “But he tipped fastball. He told me he was throwing fastball.”

Rock, paper scissors shoot.

God, the truth can be devious.

2. With all of the attention that has been lavished on Matsuzaka thus far, all of the in depth analysis of his pitches, his background, his wife, the origin of his first name, foods that have been named for him and so on, you’d think someone would have paid attention to his atypically spectacular ass. But no.

Not until someone asked Rococo Crisp to comment on how Matsuzaka looked from center field, did anyone bother to point out “He’s got a nice butt.”

How has this not been news? Jose can say, as a nominally Japanese guy, that we are not known for our butts. We are not a proud-assed people. And yet, Matsuzaka has the stamp of approval from his center fielder. This is nothing short of astonishing. It is as improbable as the birth of a two headed pig, the emergence of an eight foot tall man or Alfonso Soriano taking a walk. Jose never thought he’d see it in his life time and yet here it is. For decades we Japanese have been know for our craftsmanship, our austere elegance and our mastery of kung fu, but now, at long last, we are finally, finally know for producing one great ass.

The pride of a nation

3. According to the bloated harpies at the Inside Track, Megatron Lowe, has been conducting a revisionist campaign to rewrite the story of his failed marriage. According to Lowe, he did not begin to engage in sexual intercourse with Fox Sports Net reporter Carolyn Hughes until after his marriage had ended, despite strong evidence to the contrary. “We just made out,” said the formerly Paranoid Android (note: in Jose’s imagination). “And it’s been established by Congress that oral does not is not adultery. So no big deal.”

Lowe added “Also, I never got taken out of the rotation for the 2004 playoffs, I asked to go to long relief. And I won two games in the 2003 ALCS. Also, I am the Sultan of Freedonia.”

In related news, Derek Lowe is still a hero, a legend really. He’s a sort of sleazy adulterous hero, but a hero nevertheless.

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

Novelty Food

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

1. You know what Jose loves about having a new star athlete in town? He loves all of the gimmick foods they come up with to leech off of the new guy’s celebrity, the ichi-roll in Seattle, Wade Boggs’ “.352 Bar” candy, Tim’s Pickled Na(Herring) and, of course, the delicious Rico Bolonga. (Note: Jose’s Bologna has a first name, it is R-I-C-O.)

And now you’ve got Mr. Matsu. It’s terrific that some Japanese restaurants have introduced some special Matsuzaka-themed products like Matsuzaka Maki, and the like, but let’s be honest that’s not that imaginative. Naming a sushi roll after a Japanese ball player? How’s that more clever than, say El Pelon Taqueria naming a burrito after Rich Garces or Zaftigs naming a knish after Kevin Youkilis.

Actually, Jose brings up Youks for a reason, in that, Boston’s Jewish community has taken the lead in provide creative ideas on the Matsuzaka-themed food front. Apparently, in honor of the Japanese star’s debut, the Jewish community has not only named a food after him, but plan to incorporate it into their ancient religious rites. The novelty food, a flat, cracker like item, completely without leavening agents is used in the “Passover” ritual, an annual rite that commemorates the great miracle in 1994 when eleven teams “passed over” Nomar Garciaparra for players lie Ben Grieve and Antone Williamson to allow the Red Sox to pick him in the twelfth spot. The cracker used in the commemoration of this Passover honors the Japanese righty by taking the simple, sweet name “Matsu.”

That said, a note to the good people at Manischewitz, you misspelled Daisuke’s name. It’s M-A-T-S-U, not M-A-T-Z-O-H. Still, it’s a solid, creative effort.

2. Great news everyone, Sox skipper Terry Eurona has seen a picture of Mt. Fuji. When asked whether he had any advice for Mr. Matsu on how to dress in the cold weather, Tito replied “They’ve got snow on their mountains, don’t they? There’s got to be some cold weather.” He’s sharp, that Tito.

Later when asked how he expected his team’s many Domincans to manage through the dog days of summer, Tito answered “The tropics are hot!” He also responded questions about Jonathan Paplebon‘s ability to return to the closer job by stating “there was a hurricane in Louisiana” and questions about Jason Varitek’s alma mater Georgia Tech is in a state founded as a debtors prison.

By the way, as long as we’re talking about non-answers to questions. Jose, as a former media professional, would like to offer Tito some advice. You know how Jimy Williams would answer every question “manager’s decision?” Jose would like to see Tito adopt his own avoid all phrase. Jose’s thought is that Eurona should rip off those guys who put the Cartoon Network LED’s all over Boston, and answer every annoying question “I’m sorry, that’s not a hair related question.” This is great because a) Tito is bald b) there’s lots of wacky hair on the Red Sox and c) it could potential force Dan Shaughnessy to address his nappy ‘fro. An equally good evasive answer would be “I'm not here to talk about the past. I'm here to be positive about this subject.”

Do you think Curt struggled becasuse he's been blogging too much?


Sorry, sir, but that's not a hair-related question.

3. Which do you think is getting bigger press coverage in Japan, Daisuke Matsuzaka’s Major League debut this week or the induction of the legendary Mr. Fuji into the WWF Hall of Fame? Also, since Mr. Matsu has any number of crafty and duplicitous pitches, would it be alright to steal Mr. Fuji’s nickname “The Devious One” and apply it to him or would that be racist? Jose thinks it would be fine, because the Pearl Harbor driven stereotype of Japanese as sneaky really went out with the invention of the Toyota. It would really only be racist if Jose started calling him “The Mathematically Gifted One.”

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

Correction

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

1. Today is only the second game of the season, and already Jose needs to run a correction. Absurd and pathetic isn’t it? A skilled journalist like Jose making a terrible error in on of the biggest KEYS of the year? Well, Jose is nothing if not honest about his flaws (Note: For instance, his left hand is almost useless. He can’t dribble with it, nothing. It’s like he’s Casey Fossum.) And unlike newspaper types who would correct their page 1 error on page D35 special advertising supplement for Trans-Dniester “Land of Intrigue,” Jose will correct a first KEY error in a first KEY. Ready? Okay, here goes.

CORRECTION: In the KEYS TO THE GAME feature on Monday, April 2, 2007 Anno Domini, the author wrote “as bad as yesterday may have been, today will be, it must be, better, because today there will be baseball.”

Many KEYS readers sat down to watch Opening Day assuming that the reporting was accurate. It was not. Monday, April 2 was not better because there was baseball. It was worse. You know; you saw the game. The text should have read “as bad as yesterday may have been, today will be, it must be, better, because today there will be baseball. Unless Curt Euro totally implodes, in which case the day and the day after it will be total crap.” The management of KEYS TO THE GAME apologizes for any distress this error may have caused readers. On the other hand, grow up, it’s not like we poisoned any dogs.

2. Today is the season’s first start for St. Josh Beckett as he tries to put a difficult 2006 season, wherein he sent more men home happy than Hazel Mae, behind him. The problem, most have theorized, is that Beckett was so enamored of his marvelous fastball that he couldn’t stop throwing it… ever. Narcissus on the Charles, if you will. Jose thinks there is a lot of truth to this. Doing the same thing over and over again without variation is a) a sign of mental illness and b) leaves one exposed to all kinds of threats. A monoculture crop gets completely decimated by a new pest. An undiversified stock portfolio is rendered worthless by one company’s collapse. And an unwavering fastball, 97 mph though it may fly, is launched into the night.

If you need more proof that variation is essential to success, consider the case of Wade Boggs. Boggs was brilliant hitter, but he was known for his compulsive routines, most famously eating chicken every single game day, without fail. And you know what that got him? Well, into the Hall of Fame. But do you know where it got him after that? To the WWF Hall of Fame. That’s right Wade Boggs, a legend, a master hitter, was reduced to inducting the late Mr. Perfect Curt Henning into the WWF Hall of Fame last week, and all because he only ate chicken before games. Pathetic. An actual Hall of Famer went to the induction ceremony of the only Hall of Fame that would admit Pete Rose (note: in the Hall’s celebrity wing). (Additional Note: Actually, including Rose in the WWF Hall seems like a good compromise. He gets to be in a Hall of Fame, but he’s surrounded with other athletes who fix matches. If just once in a while, Boggs had mixed in a little lamb, maybe some moussaka, this never would have happened. Never.

Though maybe it’s not so bad. Boggs and Henning weren’t so different. They were both elite athletes who relied on finesse rather than power. Moreover, they were both managed by geniuses, Henning by “The Genius” Lanny Poffo, and Boggs by John McNamara.

Anyway, long story short, Beckett needs to mix in his curve ball more effectively this year or one of these days we’re going to see him in a tux talking about how much the legendary Issac Yankem DMD meant to professional wrestling and the dental community.

3. Jose is not, as you know, a religious man. He likes God. He has positive feelings towards God, but sometimes, when he thinks too much, he gets skeptical. Why do bad things happen to good people? Why would a just God allow the Red Sox to make the Bard/Meredith trade? That sort of thing drives doubt into his heart. But Jose has good news on this front. It turns out that God exists. Not only does he exist, but he is just, which is great, because justice in any of its non-David forms is absolutely terrific. And you know how Jose knows? Empirical evidence. That’s right, put that in your Sunday mornings uninterrupted by boring sermons about loving your neighbor but not making love too your neighbor, atheist scum!

“But what’s the proof?” you ask. “Is it Christ’s glorious resurrection? The 2004 ALCS? Billy Dee Williams making a cameo on Lost?” Nope. It’s so much simpler… and more profound.

On August 1, 2006 Jose wrote “How can there be a just God if skinny Jason Johnson has diabetes, and fat David Wells gets to keep stuffing his face with cakes and donuts and pies?”

It’s a great question isn’t it? But God speaks to us. He is still speaking to us. Not in words or visions, not in a burning bush or from atop a mountain, but in simple, every day acts of divinity, like giving David Wells diabetes.

Thank you God, thank you for making Jose believe again. Now, you can seal the deal by taking away Jason Johnson’s diabetes. And after that, you cold really seal the deal by giving Mike Lowell a second testicle again. You could just take it from David Ortiz. That guy’s got more balls than anyone in the league.

(Theological note: As it has been established that David Ortiz is God, would it make Mike Lowell at least a little divine if he got one of Ortiz’s testicles? Which chapter of Leviticus covers that?)

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

Thank God for Opening Day

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

Thank God for Opening Day.

Really. Thank God for Opening Day. Most years Jose is merely glad to see Opening Day; he is just happy that the winter is over and his nightly entertainment has emerged bear-like from hibernation. In those years, he is far more like the hunter on the first day of deer season than the smack addict flush with cash from a liquor store robbery and dying for a fix. He wants baseball, he craves it, but he does not need it to avoid dissent into oblivion.

But not this year. No, this year he needs the saccharine poison of baseball season to drip hurriedly into his veins. This year, it is to him what confession is to the sinner, what nitroglycerin is to the cardiac patient, what Guitar Hero is to Joel Zumaya. It is his salvation, his light.

These have been dark days in Melendezville, dark days indeed. Jose will not delve into the details of his personal life, save to say that the inadvertent destruction of family heirlooms is pretty much the least troubling thing going on in his life. Also, he got a pretty good haircut, for a change. How bad is it? Remember when the Yankees swept the Sox five straight? Well, it’s like that, except, Jose can’t turn just turn off the TV, scream “F*ck Rudy Seanez” and move on with his life. On the plus side, at least Jose’s travails do not make New Yorkers happy. Look, Jose is not saying things are “Grady Little is your manager and your starter is looking a little tired” bad, maybe more like “Jose Offerman is your second baseman and he has to field a routine grounder” bad, deeply troubling and upsetting, but probably not going to leave one catatonic.

And so we come to today, to Opening Day. And thank God. Thank God because Opening Day is hope and rebirth and life. Jose does not want to get all Curt Euro on you, he’s not even really a Christian per se, but have you ever thought about how much Opening Day, especially after a season like last year, is like Jesus? Think about it. The 2006 Red Sox season died horribly, painfully, torturously, and yet today the Red Sox will be resurrected.

“They are risen,” Red Sox fans will cry out. And regardless of the outcome, independent of what happens when Julio Lugo digs in this evening, the lone fact that the Red Sox are playing again, a short six months after their agonizing death will be nothing short of proof of God’s love. God gives us baseball, He gives us Opening Day because he loves us. It is exactly that simple. It is the same story as that of Jesus, the miracles, the lessons, the prophecy and the excruciating execution. (Note: Yes, that is a pun about bad defense and difficulties pulling off a hit and run.) The only difference is that Jesus only came back to life once, whereas the Red Sox are resurrected pretty much annually. Point Red Sox.

Okay, so maybe it’s silly and completely sacrilegious to compare Opening Day to Christ’s resurrection, every bit as silly as it is to offer the caramel coated platitudes about spring and rebirth and “Everyone’s even in the standings today.” But there is something profoundly true about it too. Because as bad as yesterday may have been, today will be, it must be, better, because today there will be baseball. Also, Jose’s going to a barbeque, which is always nice.

2. And now, a sneak peak at the back page of tomorrow’s New York post.

ORTIZ’S TERRIFYING VOW

Kansas City, Mo—Red Sox slugger David Ortiz shocked reporters yesterday by confession to a string of killings and vowing more to come. In response to a question about what he planned to do in the coming year, the Dominican slugger respond “What I always do. Kill…”

As stunning as the admission by the seemingly genial designated hitter was, the response has been even more remarkable. Blinded by parochialism, authorities in Boston have, thus far, declined to investigate or even bring Ortiz in for questioning. The Red Sox organization has been similarly negligent, building a wall of silence around Ortiz. Even as the comments were issued, the Red Sox public relations staff seemed prepared with carefully crafted denials, suggesting that they may have known about the crimes well in advance of Ortiz’s stunning statement.

“I’m pretty sure he was talking about hitting baseballs,” stonewalled Sox general manager and unindicted coconspirator Theo Epstein. “You left out the part where he said ‘the ball.’ It was ‘kill the ball.’”

“The only thing he killed was Yankees pitching for the last four years,” added former Red Sox first baseman Kevin Millar, who was not even on site or asked for comment.

Yankees President George Steinbrenner declined to join in the campaign of denial, issuing an immediate statement. “The Yankees organization, as the classiest in baseball, calls on the Red Sox to immediately suspend David Ortiz and urge him to turn himself into authorities. Felons have no place in our national pastime.”


3. As part of the full court press accompanying Opening Day, Boston Herald Business reporter Scott Van Voorhis did one of those stories that everyone loves where he asked local business leaders to offer managerial advice to sox skipper Terry Eurona.

Jose assumed that this was going to be another one of those stupid media features where they assume that just because someone has millions of dollars, has fired tens of thousands of people and has a Harvard educated hooker err... second wife, on his arm, he knows more about baseball than you or Jose. But it wasn’t about Jack Welch at all.

Instead Van Voorhis asked a variety of executives and managers, some of whom even have sporting experience, to offer advice, and you know what they said? Crack the whip, treated everyone the same, better to have nine Mosey Nixon’s than nine Manny Ramirez’s? No, they advocated for kid gloves, a consultative approach and letting the stars do what they do best.

One commentator, developer John Drew, counseled Tito to “handle them all gingerly.” Which sort of sounded, like good advice, but then Jose noticed something. John Drew? That’s remarkably close to the name of Sox outfielder David Jonathan Drew, aka DJ Dru, isn’t it? Jose senses infiltration. So basically what you have in this article, is DJ Dru, in the clever alias of real estate developer John Drew, who Jose assumes, looks just like DJ but wears glasses, advising Tito to give stars all sorts of leeway. And who is in that group of stars? None other than DJ Dru himself.

What’s next? Will Sloan School of Management Professor Manuel R. Amirez appear in the paper advising Eurona to “let players knock off a few days before the All-Star Break, It’s just good business?” Perhaps Green Monster Games President and Founder Curt Euro will counsel Tito to “Let your number one starter stay in until he thinks it’s time to come out?” Maybe CEO of ACME Inc. Wile. E. Mopena, will suggest a new model of exploding bat. (Note: Yes, Jose knows everyone has done Wile E. Coyote jokes for Wily Mo.)

Professor Manuel R. Amirez responds to

charges that his Keynesian beliefs are outdated.


Let’s get serious here. If you want to take a business perspective, don’t ask these squishy soft “modern” business types with their six sigma and their lean manufacturing and their bathroom breaks. No, let’s ask someone who knows how to get the most out of their workers like Henry Clay Frick or Kathie Lee Gifford. What players today need is lower pay, fewer benefits and more hours at the office. And if that doesn’t work, there’s always a skilled 8 year-old who will do the job for half as much.

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

Past Performance is Not Necessarily Indicative of Future Results

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.

1. It’s Papelbon.

That’s the word out of Florida this afternoon according to ESPN. Faced with the prospect of Piniero, Tavarez, Donnelly or any of the other cast of thousands closing, the Red Sox have decided to go with what worked in the past, even if it costs them over the long term.

Jose isn’t too fond of this move. He thinks Little Papi’s value as a starter will ultimately exceed his value out of the pen, but he can’t say that he’s surprised. Going with what used to work, even at the expense of the future is all the rage these days. The WWF’s having trouble getting new talent over with fans? Have the Undertaker wrestle for the title at WrestleMania, after all, it used to be a good idea. The Democrats can’t win the White House? Nominate a Clinton, it worked the last time they tried it. The U.S. is stuck in a military quagmire with no end in sight? Why not try escalation? It worked when we tried it in Vietnam. Err…

No, the number one admonishment to all those who play the stock market—past performance is not necessarily indicative of future results—is being ignored. It’s not that Jose thinks Papelbon will be bad in the bullpen. Quite to the contrary, Jose expects that he’ll be excellent. He’s got two great pitches and a middling third, that’s closer stuff. It’s just that Jose believes, in his heart of hearts, that Papelbon would be a terrific starter by the middle of this year and forever thereafter, that the prospect of facing Euro, Beckett, Mr. Matsu and Papelbon, would wear down any team, and that a closer, by trade or from inside, would have emerged with time.

But are we sure returning Papelbon to the closer spot will work? Are we really? What if a pitcher is like a woman (note: or a man Jose supposes)? What if? What if? What if? A woman can be a closer. Nothing wrong with that, no moral judgments here. She can be the person for those tense situations, when one just needs a high intensity expenditure of energy to close out an evening. And she may be really good at it. She may excel. Hell, she may be so good, have so much promise, that you try to convert her to a starter But what happens then? What if, rather than just asking her to close out your nights, you ask her to start out your mornings and make it deep into the day? Maybe it will work out maybe it won’t. Maybe she get’s bombed early in the day? You don’t know. But if it doesn’t work do you think you can ask her to go back to closing and everything will be the same as it was? Can you rely on her to still bring the heat at the end of the night, get the job done expeditiously and then shake hands and walk off the mound? Maybe it can be done, but Jose hasn’t seen it happen too often. Of course, past performance is not necessarily indicative of future results.




A woman scorned?

2. Red Sox riddles, courtesy of KEYS TO THE GAME

Q: What does Jason Varitek have in common with Christopher Cross?
A: Neither of them have had a hit lately.

Q: How many Red Sox relievers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: It doesn’t matter they can’t even close a circuit.

Q: How many fifth starters does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Let’s see Snyder, Lester, Hansack, Gabbard, Tavarez… five. Five! They each take a turn in the rotation.

Q: Why did Manny Ramirez throw a clock out the window.
A: Just Manny being Manny.

Q: Why did Grady Little throw a clock out the window?
A: Because he was incredibly bleeping stupid.

Q: What has wings but can’t fly.
A: Cory Lidle’s plane. (Note: Boooooooooooooooooooooooooo.)

Q: If a tree fell in the forest would Curt Euro make a sound?
A: Yes.

Q: He who has it doesn't tell it. He who takes it doesn't know it. He who knows it doesn't want it. What is it?
A: The next Ken Ryan.

3. OK. Fine let’s talk about the grill. Everyone else is. So what if Manny Ramirez was selling a grill on E-Bay. Big deal. Everyone acts like it’s such a story that the legendary enigma Manny Ramirez would try to sell a cooking appliance. “Does he really need the money?” some asked. “Isn’t it kind of pathetic?” others queried. Does he claim that the grill needs a new home every year and then he leaves it exactly where it is?” inquired still more pundits.

But why are we acting like it’s so weird. Would it be weird if he bought stock in Texaco, invested in a mutual fund, purchased real estate or secured no-bid military contracts? No, it would be a normal, sane investment for a wealthy man. And so is selling grills.

You remember; we all laughed when George Foreman started selling grills, and you know what happened with that. That’s right, he went insane and named all of his kids George. But he also made a ton of money. So why shouldn’t Manny sell grills. He’s already crazy, so what does he have to lose?

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.

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:

• 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.

Thinking Outside the Pen

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.

1. The principle spring training narrative continues to be the question of who will close. Terry Eurona is said to favor Julienned Tavarez (note: shoot Jose), others view Mike Timlin as the lead candidate and still others think Joel Piniero should get a shot. None of them are terribly appealing are they? But maybe the Red Sox haven’t considered all of the options. Perhaps, just perhaps in this brave and terrible new baseball world, the closer is no longer necessary. Perhaps, it is nothing more than a vestigial structure, a once useful thing that has long since lost its purpose, like the appendix or Bernie Williams.

Jose proposes that the Red Sox do not need a closer at all. Rather, they should develop an elaborate strategy that focuses on avoiding save situations all together. The strategy involves three basic components:

1. Big leads— All the Red Sox need to do is get way ahead, and there will be no save situation to worry about.


2. Come from behind wins—Why score three runs in the third to build a slim, blowable lead when you could just as easily score them in the bottom of the ninth while down by two runs?


3. Weather control—If the Red Sox had a weather control machine, they could bring in the rain whenever they have a lead after the fifth and render the closer question moot. This is probably a less appealing alternative in domes.

Now, Jose knows what you’re thinking, that big leads and come from behind wins may be good plans, but controlling the weather is potentially catastrophic for the environment not to mention incredibly difficult to do. Fair enough, but let Jose ask you this, which do you think is harder, exerting precise and total control over the elements or finding a closer out of Donnelly, Tavarez, Piniero and Timlin? Jose thought so. Look at it this way, there have been movies wherein people can control the weather, X-Men for instance. Sure it’s fantastic, but no one leaves the theater saying “That’s crap, there’s no way Storm could make rain and lightning.” By contrast, if you went into a theater, dropped down your ten bucks and saw a movie wherein Julienned Tavarez became an effective closer you would condemn it as too absurd even for fiction. Point weather control.

2. One of the biggest disappointments of the 2006 season was Coco Crisp’s failure to thrive with the Red Sox. While it was easy to attribute his struggles to a broken finger, Jose thinks his difficulties can be just as easily linked to his failure to develop a clear identity within the context of the team.

You know how most relievers perform better when they have a clear role on the team? Like how Julienned Tavarez would stop sucking if they told him “you will only pitch the sixth inning.” Jose believes that the same holds true for Crisp. So Jose has tried to come up with the best role for Crisp, one that will allow him to reach his full potential, and after more than a few sleepless nights, he thinks he’s got it—birdman.

It’s perfect. Look at how well it worked for Crisp’s namesake, wrestling legend Koko B. Ware. After getting off to a promising start as Pro Wrestling Illustrated’ s 1979 rookie of the year, Ware struggled to establish himself, ending up on a tenure track to obscurity. But then, he found his role, when he signed with the WWF in 1986 as “Birdman” Koko B. Ware, and brought his pet bird Frankie to the ring with him. All of a sudden, B. Ware emerged as a beloved star, if not an actual champion.

So all Crisp needs to do is get himself a parrot and a sequined headband and voila, he’ll reach his formidable potential. Also, picking up “Piledriver” Koko B. Wares singles from the “The Wrestling Album 2: Piledriver” couldn’t hurt.
The only down side is that it could set up a situation where the Yankees steal Crisp’s bird prior to a big game, rendering Crisp distracted and useless.

Now playing centerfield for the Red Sox, accompanied by his bird Frankie...

3. In other news, David Ortiz is trying to kill Terry Eurona.

According to the Boston Herald, Ortiz has been doing his rank best to keep the manager addicted to smokeless tobacco, going so far as to waft the sickly sweet aroma directly into Tito’s nostrils.

Now, Jose can understand where Ortiz is coming from. After all, who hasn’t wanted to kill Tito from time to time? But remember, as frustrating as his bullpen decisions may sometimes be, he is still the best Red Sox manager since Dick Williams. Besides, what’s the point of trying to keep him on smokeless tobacco? To kill him before he can burn out the 2017 bullpen?

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.

Shoulder, Back, Buttocks and Ribs: The Carl Pavano Story

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.

1. The Yankees take on the Red Sox tonight in what is sure to be the tensest a spring training game can get. Way more tense than the BC game. According to Jose’s sources, authorities in Fort Myers are preparing for the game by summoning extra ambulances and first aid personnel. It’s not that they’re afraid of riots or anything, it’s just that Carl Pavano is pitching, so you know he’s going to take up at least one ambulance, so you need an extra in case someone in the stands gets schistosomiasis or something.

And it could get much worse. Pavano has always been skilled at injuring himself, but like any “true Yankee” he has stepped up his game since coming to New York. Not only has he sustained injuries to his own “shoulder, back, buttocks and ribs" but he is now injuring people around him as well. Pavano missed his last spring training start dealing with his girlfriend’s “severe medical condition.” (Note: Does herpes count as a severe medical condition?) Moreover, Pavano is being sued by a man for car accident last year wherein Pavano hit the man with his Porsche. Pavano broke two ribs in the crash. Pavano has also reportedly been seen in Hiroshima in 1945, in Phuket on Christmas 2004. Also, for those of you unsatisfied with the inconclusive ending to the film Zodiac, Jose is pretty sure Carl Pavano had something to do with it.

How bad is Pavano hurting himself and others? Let’s put it this way, New York Governor Elliot Spitzer has proposed closing the entire New York health care funding gap by having Pavano killed.

2. New Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick has gotten off to a rough start as scandals involving an expensive inaugural, a helicopter, a Cadillac, a phone call to Citigroup on behalf of Ameriquest, new office furnishings, an assistant for his wife and his wife’s depression have taken focus from his governing agenda.

Now, Jose supports Patrick, he was a delegate for him at the state Democratic Convention and voted for him right on through, but he is amazed that someone who ran such a brilliant campaign can get off to such a politically tone deaf start. Not all of you are Massachusetts residents and not all of you who are politicos, so Jose thought he would explain Governor Patrick’s struggles in terms you can understand. What would a new Red Sox manager have to do to get off to this bad of a start? (Note: Jose could just say, view the Joe Kerrigan era, but that wouldn’t be any fun would it?)

• After announcing that this “will not be a 25 guys 25 cabs team” he arrives late to spring training after sailing down from Boston on private yacht named “Cab 1.”
• Redecorates managerial office with money that could have been spent on a closer.
• Announces that his wife will have her own batting practice pitcher because she plans to take a “more hands on role” than previous manager’s wives.
• Calls George Steinbrenner to talk him out of plan to acquire Barry Bonds instead of Vlad Guerrero.
• States that in light of increasingly difficult budgetary climate, the “overly optimistic goal of winning the division will be replaced with the more sensible goal of finishing a solid third.”
• Stands silent as the federal government deports David Ortiz.
• Speaks up when the federal government tries to deport Julian Tavarez.
  

That’s the kind of start Governor Patrick is off to. Still, it could be worse. He has yet to fire his Chief-of-Staff and replace her with Joe Kerrigan. (Note: It’s National Beat on Joe Kerrigan day, join in… jokes about stolen bases are encouraged.)


3. What do you think Patriots coach Bill Belichick and Sox skipper Terry Eurona were discussing yesterday in the dugout? The way Jose sees it there are only two possibilities: the rigors of coaching in a high intensity sports town like Boston or sweatshirts. Jose is going with sweatshirts. Belichick is, of course, famous for the ratty cut off hooded sweatshirts he wears during games. Tito, similarly, if less famously, wears a red fleece sweatshirt in the dugout.

Also, it is rumored that the two are working on a book together about management. The reported title is “Everything I Know about Management I Learned from my Sweatshirt”

A few teaser quotes:

• A good manager is like a sweatshirt, warm but not smothering.
• Much like a sweatshirt, it doesn’t matter how a manager looks as long as he gets the job done.
• An organization is like a sweatshirt, if there’s a part you don’t need, you can just cut it off.
  

Jose thinks there is something to this. After all how many championships had the Sox and Pats won in the 86 years before the sweatshirts? Couldn’t someone buy a nice green hoodie for Doc Rivers?

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.

Working on a Change Up

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.

1. This has been a terrible spring training. No joke. Normally this is the point in the spring where Jose would be cracking jokes, lame tired jokes, but jokes nevertheless about doing typing drills, and writing simulated blogs. But not this year… unless you want to count what he just wrote. But you shouldn’t.

No, this year, Jose has done very, very little in the way of spring training work. He has yet to write on consecutive days, everything feels kind of flat and lifeless, and, let’s be honest, he came into camp this year in poor writing shape.

Jose is getting up there in years, everyone’s seen his basic material a few times round now, and he isn’t surprising too many people. Yeah, he’d like to do this for a few more years, what with the lure of $15.75 in book royalties per anum, but unless he comes up with something new, it’s not going to happen.

Basically, Jose is Curt Euro, but with no Major League Baseball chops, without millions of dollars, absent a place in Red Sox lore, and soon, with a less popular blog. On the upside, Jose is not fat. So he’s got that going for him.

So perhaps Jose should take a cue from Curt and develop something new this spring, the literary equivalent of the changeup Euro through 15 times in yesterday’s preseason outing. But what would be a change up for a blog that compares baseball to wrestling, comics, politics, philosophy, theology, television and feminine hygiene? Jose’s taste is pretty eclectic, so it’s going to take some real work to come up with something that is a true change from his current stuff. The way Jose sees it he has two choices. Either he can start comparing baseball to finger sandwiches (note: Jose likes his managers like he likes his cucumber sandwiches at high tea, not too crusty) or he can start loading up on NASCAR metaphors (note: watching Kyle Snyder pitch is like watching some bad driver, Jose’s not looking one up, at Daytona. It’s boring, he crashes and burns a lot and his fuel injectors are clogged or something).

See? There’s a lot of work to be done between now and opening day if Jose’s going to produce this year.

2. Bad News Brown died this week.

Bad news for him. Still, the man live a full life. He was an Olympic bronze medalist in judo in 1976, he was a headline wrestler in the WWF and Stampede wrestling in Calgary, he was probably the manager in the Bad News Bears, Jose doesn’t remember, and he devised the greatest wrestling put down since Classy Freddie Blassie, coined “pencil necked geek,” with his simple, elegant construction “beer-bellied sharecropper.” He died on March 6, 2007 at the age of 63, not bad for a wrestler, and Jose misses him.

But this is not a time to lament the death of the great man, but to celebrate his life. And Jose can think of no better celebration, no more fitting tribute, than the dissemination of the values he represented into professional baseball. Anyone can make jokes about how funny it would be if baseball was like wrestling and players were whacking each other with chairs constantly, but that’s not funny—getting hit with a steel chair hurts! Wouldn’t we do better to follow Bad News Brown’s shining example and hurt with words? (Note: Before hurting with chairs.) Before Jose would ever want to see one Major League player hit another with a chair, he would want to see them emulate Mr. Brown’s performance when he was feuding with Randy “Macho Man” Savage. Brown pointed out calmly, rationally, that the reason he had been unable to get a match with the then champion was that Miss Elizabeth, Savage’s manager, was doing “special favors” for WWF Commissioner Jack Tunney.

Who wouldn’t want to see that in baseball? Wouldn’t you enjoy seeing Alex Rodriguez suggest that the reason Derek Jeter get’s to play shortstop is that Jessica Alba was doing “special favors” for Joe Torre? Or perhaps watching Barry Bonds insist that Commissioner Bud Selig was out to get him because Hank Aaron’s wife Gloria had done him “special favors.”

Baseball needs this, America needs this. Where have you gone Bad News Brown? A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.



Read KEYS you beer-bellied share cropper
or I'll come back down from heaven and give
you a ghetto blaster

3. The Ron Borges plagiarism story isn’t technically a baseball story, but it’s important and Jose wants to make sure to comment on it in his own, completely original words.

Forget two months without Ron Borges. When the Boston Globe's latest plagiarism scandal subsides, the lasting impact could be a major change in the way the paper’s sports-notes columnists — Borges for football, Peter May for basketball, Kevin Paul Dupont for hockey, and Nick Cafardo for baseball — do their business every week.

In case you missed it, Borges — a much-read, much-reviled football writer who also covers boxing — was suspended without pay for two months on March 5, after the Web site ColdHardFootballFacts.com revealed that he’d recycled material from a Tacoma News Tribune item in his March 4 “Football Notes.” The official announcement of Borges’s suspension, which was posted on Boston.com Monday evening, reported that Borges subscribes to “an online notes exchange used by NFL writers, who share information with one another in advance of Sunday notebook columns that run in many newspapers.”

Might Borges’s punishment have been harsher if editor Marty Baron didn’t have to worry about the low morale that’s gripped the paper amid the latest round of cutbacks? In an e-mail to the Phoenix, Baron says the answer is no. “We follow our procedures and policies regardless of what else is happening at the time,” he writes. “No factors other than those directly relevant to this matter entered into our decision.”

Of course, if there was any gamesmanship involved here, Baron could hardly be expected to acknowledge it. With the union already up in arms about buyouts and outsourcing, Borges may well have gotten a better deal than he deserved.

(Note: KEY 3 was prepared based in part on materials assembled from outside sources including, okay entirely, Adam Reilly’s piece in the Boston Phoenix. But the first sentence, where Jose says he is going to talk in his own words is completely original. Jose would have passed Seth Mnookin’s work off as his own, but Mnookin, mister big shot media critic, hasn’t bothered to write anything about it yet.)

I’m Jose Melendez, and those are my KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.

No News Is Good News

It’s time for Jose Melendez’s KEYS TO TO SPRING TRAINING.

1. Amazing. We are now five days into the start of spring training competition and Jose has nothing he want to write about. Usually it takes him a good week or two to get sick of the spring training story lines, but not this year. Nope, this year he was tired of them as soon as they started. Ennui, thy name is spring training.

Jose supposes this is a function of getting older. The same story lines cycle year after year. The names change, but the narratives are timeless. They fall into a few basic categories.

• The phenom: Some highly touted player has come over by trade, free agency or through the farm system, and everyone is a titter about what he might do. This year it’s Mr. Matsu, last year it was Josh Beckett. Earlier than them it was Pedro, Nomar and probably Harry Hooper if you go back far enough.

• The distraction: We know this one better than any of them. A player says something, or does something that suggests less than total happiness with the team or his role on it, and everyone in the press takes turns lacing into him. This year it’s Manny. The year before, it was Manny. The year before that it was Manny. The year before that it was M. Ramirez.
  
  Of course Roger Clemens wearing his headphones while Butch Hobson tried to talk to them was way, way worse.

• Camp tranquility: This is the one reporters hate, the training camp where everything is peachy keen, no one is demanding a trade, complaining about playing time or going to jail. Jose, on the other hand, loves it, because it makes him think of the Sea of Tranquility on the moon, and he loves space stuff.

• The surprise: Someone comes out of nowhere to have monstrous spring training. Dave McCarty hits a million home runs, Cesar Crespo hits at all, Pat Lennon looks big and menacing, Conner Henry lights it up, that sort of thing. But you know what? They never pan out, ever. Yay Alberto Castillo has an OPS of 1.600 so far, but do you think he’d half any where close to half of that if he got to play in the regular season? Well, his career .OPS is under .600.
  Still, we can dream.

• The injury: Nomar’s ankle, Jeff Frye’s knee. You know the story, the lineup is set and then someone has to go and blow out an important body part. Jose hates this story line. Still, if we have to go through this story this season, please let it my Doug Mirabelli’s arteries.

• The weird injury: A cousin of the injury, this category can be just as devastating to a team yet at least offers some comedic value. Famous examples, include Yankee killer Vaughn “Eshel-K” Eshelman lighting his hotel room (note: and hands) on fire while warming a baby bottle, Wade Boggs “falling from a moving car” and Darren Bragg being eaten by Rich Garces. Jose’s best bet for this year’s weird injury involves Eric Hinske and Polonium-210.

So those are the possible story lines. Take any Red Sox story in the paper and it will fit quite neatly into one of those narratives, which is why spring training is boring.

2. Okay Jose was wrong. He’s man enough to admit it. No, not about everyone hating Bob Stanley, but about there being no interesting story lines in spring training this year. There is one: Who will close?

With Jonathan Paplebon returning to the rotation, the closer spot is wide open, leading some to suggest that the Red Sox may well return to the “closer by committee” approach that was regarded as a disaster in 2003. And while it certainly didn’t go well, Jose would argue that the 2003 relief debacle was not really an indictment of the closer by committee concept, but rather evidence of poor process management. Come on, even the most dimwitted of bureaucrats knows that for a committee to work, you need a carefully constructed set of governance bylaws. Why couldn’t Grady see that?

So with that it mind, Jose has taken the liberty of drafting some bylaws that will establish a process to build consensus to reach conclusions on choosing a baseball pitcher for the purpose of concluding a given baseball contest.

1. Bullpen Coach Gary Tuck shall serve as Chairman of what shell henceforth be known as the Boston Latitudinal Organization With Senior Authority Verifying Endgame Situations, or BLOW SAVES for short.
1A. In the event the bullpen coach is incapacitated (note: or drunk), pitching coach John Farrell shall serves as Chairman Pro Tempore.

2. Each member of the “bullpen” so-called shall receive one vote towards the making of decisions.
2A. Left-handed pitchers, pitching an average of less than 1.0 innings per appearance, “LOOGY’s” so-called, shall receive only one-half of the vote.
2B. The Chairman shall receive one vote
2C. Any “reliever pitcher” so-called making a spot start shall lose the franchise for a period of five games.
2D. The bullpen catcher shall receive one vote, provided it is not Doug Mirabelli, who is too stupid to vote. Doug Mirabelli shall receive negative five votes.

3. With one out in the top half of the fourth inning, the chairman shall distribute an agenda for the day’s committee meeting to all members.
3A. Members shall have until there are two outs in the bottom of the sixth inning to submit agenda changes.

4. During the seventh inning stretch, the Chair shall call the committee to order, and, after a vote on the minutes of the previous meeting, which must be adopted by a three-fourths vote on a call of the roll, accept nominations for closer
4A. Any member of the bullpen may be nominated for closer for the day.
4A(i). Except Julian Tavarez
4A(ii). Ever.
4B. To be under consideration, said nominee must receive a second.
4B(i). Anyone calling out “third” will be shot.
4C. After nominations are completed, the chair shall hold a vote by a call of the role
4D. The closer shall be which ever candidate can garner a two-thirds majority of votes.
4E. In the event that no pitcher has received the requisite two-thirds, there shall be a second ballot.
4E(i). Balloting shall continue until one pitcher receives the two-thirds majority or Tito Eurona gets pissed and put Jonathan Paplebon back in the bullpen.

See. Structure. Order. Process. And it should all be clean and straightforward. Unless someone files a motion to reconsider. Then it gets messy.

3.Carl Pavano made a spring training start for the Yankees yesterday, and the Boston Globe gave it an honest to God three-fourths of a column inch. Why would they do that?

Isn’t it time that we stop pretending that Carl Pavano pitching is actually baseball news and put it in the appropriate category. Basically, it’s like a kid with cancer or a 95 year old man coming out to throw the first pitch. Sure, it’s nice that they get to go out there, but their bodies can’t handle the rigors of the game, and there’s no way they’re ever going to pitch in a major league game. You don’t see those stories in the paper, and thus Pavano shouldn’t be there either. They should just let the man through his one pitch from the front of the mound, have Jorge Posada come shake his hand and then have an usher escort him to a seat in section 26 row L.

I’m Jose Melendez and those are my KEYS TO SPRING TRAINING.