Stephen Drew Gives Red Sox a Black Eye & Tooth Ache


Sox Rookie

When the Red Sox signed Stephen Drew for millions, they paid not one red cent for defense. It made no sense except as the act of a desperate team in the midst of their ten-game losing streak.

Then, the unimaginable happened. Well, not so unimaginable if you remember Red Sox star J.D. Drew, brother to the DL’s best friend. Stephen’s DNA rose to the surface of his oblique muscle, which he promptly strained after sitting out two months of the season.

The more muscles strain, the more you can tell a Drew. The Red Sox drew the shortstop straw.

In an effort to upset a rookie who was the best hitter on the team, the Sox replaced him with a man whose oblique muscle showed every chance of being attached to the shin bone and funny bone. We call this a nuts and Holt issue.

All this sort of proved yet again that you must never let Super Agent Scott Boras count your teeth. The Sox are now missing two good-sized molars. The good news is that the Drew contract is merely for one season and two more front teeth. Christmas can’t come soon enough.

Before you can say back to the drawing board, the Sox are losing again and Drew can’t help them until someone massages his wallet.

Fingers are pointing at Ben Cherington as GM of the Year. Alas, it is not for this year.

Though we are straining to join the chorus of hundreds of media experts singing the blues and another refrain from the old Sox standby, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game (I Told You So),” we will take an oblique approach to the Drew problem.


Stephen Drew Offers Red Sox No-Deposit Soda Pop


Dumb America

If the Celtics’ bad luck gets any worse, they may start signing Scott Boras’ clients.

Trying to swear off the super agent, the Red Sox finally took a sip from the liquor cabinet, and before you could say “J.D.”, the Sox had given Stephen Drew a contract. Whether he is the hard stuff, or merely a carbonated chaser, only the upcoming months will tell.

The distant laughter belongs to Scott Boras.

Who could blame the Sox for being capitulators and appeasers? With injuries only making the cellar of the American League East a more sure thing, the Sox needed to recall better days. SS Stephen Drew gives them that at least. He may still yet make them a laughingstock, but right now the Sox stock is about as low as the batting averages of the team.

Having told the Sox to take a flying leap only a few scant months ago, Drew now has re-assessed his penniless days as a lonely free agent, playing pinball at the end of May. He chose to return for a decent percentage of the original Sox offer.

Drew may not represent the lost heart of the team, but he is at least one of the missing ventricles. Yes, the Sox need a complete heart transplant, but the other valves are long gone and cannot be retrieved. Only Drew can give a little oxygen boost to the moribund pale pink hose.

That thump thump is not Drew’s bat.

Smarmy Ben Cherington had to eat crow off the Limoges china belonging to Scott Boras. It may yet prove a palatable meal if Drew can change the dirty Sox into hometown contenders.

Long Term Deals with Red Sox Unlikely



Following Josh Beckett?

Jon Lester may be having pipe dreams.

He wants to remain a member of the Red Sox till the cows come home, or at least until they rip the Sox jersey from his back—as he demurely put it.

The cows in Boston have a better chance of returning to the Boston Common where they last grazed during Colonial times.

Why would Texan Jon Lester want to stay in Boston? He noted that his growing son now refers to Boston as his hometown. That’s enough for any Texan to pull up stakes and build a ranch in the South End.

But, hold your horses, pardner. Smarmy Ben Cherington, one of the meanest hombres this side of Amherst College, is not champing at the bit to sign Lester.

Indeed, he has not even bothered to contact Lester about an extension before free agency hits. No, that Cherington is a cool customer. He will sign no players before their time.

As a consequence, old Ben has ice water in his veins. If Jon Lester is sentimental, he is so at his own peril. Love of Boston will not make Cherington one whit more apt to sign a pitcher to a long-term deal.

Though Lester cites Dustin Pedroia’s contact that keeps him a Sox player forever, pitchers are a different breed– if you care to ask pitchers like Pedro Martinez or Justin Masterson.

Don’t ask Bronson Arroyo who signed a deal to stay with the Sox for the rest of his career, only to find himself traded shortly thereafter.

Lester needs his agent to wake him up and hand him the coffee mug. Better yet, he should join the Scott Boras list of clients. That will guarantee him a one-way ticket out of town for millions.

Reading RED SOX 2013: NAKED CAME THE LINEUP will put everything into perspective. Now available at

Iglesias Ponies Up to the Bar and Orders a Sloe Boras Fizz



No sooner did Jose Iglesias clear out of Dodge City (Boston edition) that he woke up and smelled the coffee.  Never again shall he be undervalued and dismissed as irrelevant.

Yes, the hard-working stiff called up Super Agent Scott Boras and signed on the dotted line.

Growing up in Boston is tough. Iglesias learned the hard way: he was shipped out of town unceremoniously. And no one cared.

He has taken the only revenge befitting a scorned infielder. Iglesias has signed with his satanic majesty.

The Red Sox disdain Boras, and his clients are usually in town on a short-term pass.  Just ask Adrian Beltre.

Anyone with Boras for an agent on the King John Henry VIII payroll is off the Christmas Card list. You can count on the following to be gone next year: Jacoby Ellsbury and Stephen Drew.

There but for the grace of a long contract goes Jackie Bradley, Jr., and heretofore .400 hitter, Jose Iglesias.

Those two whippersnappers are tied up until the snow falls in 2017 in owner friendly contracts. Yet, all that is ameliorated by the name of Boras on the contract.

Iglesias heard a noise in Boston on the way out the door, which apparently did hit him on the backside.

After being mishandled and mistreated by the media and a group of thuggish fans that wanted him out of town, Jose has taken the high road to the big bucks. That won’t ever be a Red Sox problem as they will never after this be able to afford him.

After all, he has twice as many home runs as Alex Rodriguez this season so far.


Be sure to read RED SOX 2012: BOBBY VALENTINE’S SEASON IN HELL for more stories about the dark side of the Boston baseball team. Now available in softcover and in ebook on

Boras Syndrome Hits Jacoby Ellsbury



Sympathy pains used to be reserved for expectant fathers feeling the pre-delivery jitters of his pregnant spouse.

Nowadays that phenomenon best explains the sudden injury of Jacoby Ellsbury. The normally injured centerfielder had been playing day in and day out.

This alone was amazing because Bobby Valentine last season used to talk of Ellsbury’s regular day off.

Now that all around him are dropping to their knees or even to their backs, Ellsbury seems to have caught the fever.

After pitcher Andrew Miller seemed to destroy his Achilles tendon running off the mound, Ellsbury began to feel the urge for going down.

Within a day Jacoby seemed to have mysteriously injured his foot. Usually we see spectacular scenes of collisions and rib damage, or slides that upend an elbow or two.

This time the injury occurred when no eyes spied it. What brought Ellsbury to this crossroads may be the dreaded Boras Disease.

Yes, at a certain point in the season every Scott Boras client in baseball finds himself on sick call. The U.S. Army version pales next to the Boras client list where men are men until the contract is under consideration.

Boras always tells his clients to take a slow boat to China for that acupuncture treatment. So, we don’t expect Ellsbury to be back much before the All-Star game.

When you fail to make it to the baseball classic, chances are you come down with scurvy ball, which used to be called sour grapes.

In any respect Jacoby Ellsbury is out until further notice.

Be sure to read RED SOX 2012: BOBBY VALENTINE’S SEASON IN HELL! Now in softcover and e-book format from

Wherefore Art Thou, Jacoby Ellsbury?



So far this season, speedy centerfielder Jacoby Ellsbury has not broken ribs colliding with a teammate. He has not separated his shoulder sliding into second base. He has not hit a lick either.

In what his super-agent Scott Boras felt would be a breakout year leading to a super contract, Ellsbury has exhibited a broken bat and a breakdown in spirit.

Once vaunted as the face of the Red Sox for the future, Ellsbury has coveted privacy more than Greta Garbo at the height of her movie star career. It has not played in Boston.

No one knows the trouble Jacoby has seen. No one knows Jacoby. He is as quiet as a church mouse during the big Sunday service.

This is not exactly the stuff of mega-million dollar playing and paying contracts.

In the Massachusetts Bay state where Myles Standish needed a stand-in to propose to the woman of his dreams, Ellsbury seems to be sending a pale shadow to the batter’s box.

We might ask Jacoby to speak for himself, or just to speak. He is so vanilla in his style that he makes wallpaper jump off the wall.

There will be no MVP talk this season for Jacoby. There will be no Comeback of the Year.  He is providing a body in the lineup, not much else.

With the big 3-0 looming on his birthday calendar, Ellsbury may leave Boston with all the fanfare of Roger Williams being tossed out of Boston 300 years ago. Williams went south and founded Rhode Island. Ellsbury will be likely to be found by a hopeful but dubious pennant winner.

Ellsbury may go west before trade deadline, but he is not a young man any longer. And, the Scott Boras Gold Rush may be bring him back to his home in Seattle with little more than a few stolen bases on his scorecard.


You may read more about Jacoby Ellsbury and all the Red Sox in the books RED SOX 2011: A WHIMSICAL AUTOPSY and RED SOX 2012: BOBBY VALENTINE’S SEASON IN HELL, available on in e-book and softcover.

Jacoby Ellsbury: No Longer the Jesse James of Base Stealing


Like a gunfighter in the Old West who has lost his nerve, Jacoby Ellsbury is in deep trouble.

After losing a season while sliding into second base and dislocating his shoulder, Ellsbury has returned wiser and more unlikely to slide anywhere—except maybe into oblivion.

Already living with the rap that he is gutless and listening to the evil demon Scott Boras on his shoulder, the Red Sox centerfielder is in his most pressurized contract year. If he doesn’t make it now, he will be taking the A train to Palookaville.

In spring training of 2013, Ellsbury has not yet stolen a base.

This is disconcerting situation for the Jesse James of base robbing. He may be done in by some sniveling little coward before the season ends if he is all done with his life of base path crime.

Speaking of Ben Cherington, Sox general manager and man with more nerves in his teeth than in his gut, the Sox big man faces the conundrum of Jackie Bradley, Jr., another Boras client.

If they play him now, they will lose a year on the other end.  The Sox know well that Boras will sweep Bradley out of Boston faster than you can say, “Jacoby who?”

For a team that does not like to deal with Scott Boras, the Red Sox seem stuck between a rock and a green monster.

The hired gun emeritus of agents has a cadre of young guns on his client list, and they admire the cash withdrawals the Moriarty of baseball can mastermind.

Alas, the Red Sox have no Lone Ranger on their ownership of fat cats. There is not even a Scarlet Pimpernel to rescue the fans before they are held up for ticket prices out of their means.

Jacoby Ellsbury may be a reformed base stealer from now on. His days of the heist will soon be past the statute of limitations.