The Boston Red Sox: Defenders of the 2004 World Championship!! "Whoever plunges into his experiences with the momentum of hope, will remember so that he cannot forget." - Soren Kierkegaard.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Betrayed.


What. The. Fuck.

On Saturday night we hear that Pedro is right on the verge of putting pen to paper and resigning with the Sox. Sunday morning, our computer crashes and we lose internet access (not to mention every music file and saved picture on our hard drive.) Monday night, after an hour long phone tutorial on reinstalling drivers conducted by some Indian dude outsourced by Dell for just these purposes, I fire up Internet Explorer only to see "Pedro Headed to Mets."
Huh?
Why is this happening to me?
Apparently the Mets offered Pedro a four-year, $56 million dollar deal, which the Sox refused to respond to, and rightly so since that is the most INSANE FUCKING THING I HAVE EVER HEARD OF. Allow me to enumerate:

1) Pedro is ours. He just is, goddamnit. Shea stadium is like one big fucking concrete toilet bowl. Seeing Pedro pitch in Shea stadium is going to be like finding an 18k gold ring at the bottom of the grease trap in the dish tank at work. It just isn't right. I don't need proof. It's just not.

2) Pedro's shoulder is held together with scotch tape and bubble gum. In scientific terms, the dude has a labrum that could be up to 90% torn. Think it's just a rumor? Then why else would Pedro be asking if he really has to take an MRI for the Mets' physical. And the Mets are actually thinking this idea over. Is it opposite day or something? Is this some cosmic joke that everyone else in the universe is in on and just forgot to tell me about?

3) Pedro really stuck it up the Sox's ass by acting like he was soooooo close to resigning, only so that he could go running to Oh-Man Minaya with the already stupid offer the Sox agreed to in an effort to get more money so brazen that it borders on prostitution. Now the Sox appear to be up shit creek with a turd for a fucking paddle. Only a very creative and very prospect-expensive deal can bring us Tim Hudson. That pantywaist Carl Pavano went running to the MFYs, which isn't too upsetting but still, that's one less option. Matt Clement is still available but will probably be overpayed. Who else? Odalis Perez? Derek Lowe??

4) I'll miss you, Pedro, even though it's going to take me awhile to wrestle this knife out of my back. My favorite memory of Pedro is from September 2003, when Mike and I went up to Cleveland to watch him pitch against the Indians. It was the bottom of the seventh inning, bases loaded, two outs, everyone in the Jake going nutty. Grady makes a visit to the mound, chats with Pedro a second or two, slaps his ass and waddles away. Pedro rears back...and strikes the guy out swinging. Fucking beautiful. There's nothing else I can say.

And, as if any more havoc could be wreaked upon my happy little baseball Nirvana, there's this little rumor: Manny + Mientkiewicz + cash to the Mets (a-fucking-gain) for Cliff Floyd. Cliff Floyd. Ya. CLIFF FLOYD. So let me get this straight, Powers That Be: No more Pedro? No more Manny? What the fuck reason will I have to get out of bed in April???

If you'll excuse me, I will be going through the twelve stages of grieving now.