"Hell may have no fury like a woman scorned but heaven hath no sweetness like a sports fan vindicated." - Samcat

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Wonder Boys

Yeah, these kids are all right, that's for sure.

I'm stuck between wanting to offer them milk and cookies and affectionate pats on the head and maybe buy them a puppy to cuddle and to be wary of doing that because they'll resent the implications that they're just young pups and need to be taken care of. But, I mean, you make up these stories about them - like imagining that Buchholz and Ellsbury are BFFs and spend their off days playing endless games of MLB The Show on Playstation wherein they always fight over who gets to be the Red Sox and who gets to have Manny and Papi - and then you find out that there is more fact to that than fiction. No word yet on the video game fighting but apparently they are roommates and very good friends. Awwwww...

I include Paps and Pedroia in the "young'uns" camp too despite the fact that Paps is no longer a rookie and Pedroia would likely start gnawing on my kneecaps with small person anger (those of you who know Greta will understand), but they're both still younger than me so in my mind, that makes them wee lads. Wee lads who are kicking ass and taking names at the baseball of late, but still, wee lads nonetheless.

I imagine a rookie road trip with those guys is really something that needs to be seen to be believed. Because does anyone doubt that Pedroia struts everywhere he goes? Little Napolean that he is, Dusty's clearly taking charge and showing the new call-ups how it's done. "No, dude," he says to Ellsbury, "Mikey's totally my cribbage bitch." And Ellsbury is, obviously, in the corner taking notes while Buchholz earmuffs it at the use of profanity. I feel confident that Pedroia has the foulest mouth on the team, to make up for his lack in stature. That just seems reasonable. And poor Buchholz doesn't even need to shave yet and has to be in bed (on the top bunk) by 9:30 every night. 10:15 on game nights but Tito doesn't even want to hear it if he's cranky and no one remembered to bring his juice boxes and blueberry Pop Tarts.

I think these guys need a babysitter is what I'm saying, baseball feats aside. And no, Josh Beckett, I do not mean "babysitter" in the Cinemax version of the word. Except maybe for Ellsbury. I'm just sayin'.

So Johnny Rockets milkshakes for all the boys for their performances for the past few days. And maybe some apple pie too. But not before bedtime.