YFSF

Boston: The New Bronx?

"The Red Sox keep turning into the Yankees....Boston's front office is a soap opera. New York's front office is the calmest and quietest I've seen it since George took over. Who'd have thunk it?" So writes the redoubtable Dave Pinto, of Baseball Musings. And don't even get the Boston media started. Shaughnessy:

With his silence and refusal to take himself off the map of Red Sox Nation, Epstein allowed himself to be put in a no-lose situation -- at the expense of everyone else currently toiling in baseball operations at Yawkey Way. Through his unofficial spokesman from ESPN (the inimitable Gammons), we heard Theo was behind deals the Sox made. He got credit for the good transactions, whether he deserved it or not, but would never be blamed if any failed.

Like a character from Camelot, Theo remained forever young, forever brilliant, forever the man who brought a championship to Boston. And as long as he operated in the shadows, or allowed us to believe he was still involved, he couldn't lose. This dynamic made Theo less than popular with some of his hard-working friends in baseball operations.

Massarotti:

On the surface, it would be easy to celebrate Epstein’s return as a glorious reconciliation, but it would be foolish to do so. We already know too much. When Epstein walked away from the Red Sox on Oct. 31, his departure was looked upon nobly. In part because Lucchino diddled around during contract negotiations, Epstein thumbed his nose at the Sox and walked out the door. He had his whole life in front of him. Who needed the Red Sox? Now, Epstein is returning, and we cannot help but wonder: Why? Epstein is young and smart, and he (along with Lucchino and Henry) built the Red Sox into champions generally by making shrewd decisions. The Red Sox played the percentages during their run to the world title, yet it certainly seems now — for Epstein, in particular — the chances of failure are much greater than chances of success.

They have a zoo in Beantown right?

Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss

Ah, I was right. I just had bad timing.  Welcome back, Theo.

Does Bleaching Your Hair Make You Deaf?

"[my agents] basically advised me against it for one because I signed at a discount, and arbitration would have been better ... and they worried that I would be traded to a [small]-market team like the Royals or Devil Rays."

Bronson's got a bad habit of not listening to authority figures. First, his Mom tells him that for the good of music he should probably stop with the guitar lessons.  Then, his hairdresser says "whatever you do...NO CORNROWS". Now, he goes and costs his agents something like 300 large by indenturing himself to a team loaded with starting pitching that looks at him the way Phil Hellmuth looks at his poker chips.

So now that he's locked up at a nice price for three years, one would think it an opportune time to take advantage of Bronson's willingness to accept a hometown discount and parlay it into a centerfielder. Were we crass (we're not) and sure that Bronson could bring back an outfielder of equal value (not that, either), we'd paraphrase Denis Lemieux and say "trade him right f**king now!".  As it is, we've got a cheap 4th starter locked in for a few.  Not too bad.

A-Rod: To the Rescue

He's been in-and-out more often than Ron Jeremy, but his decision is now final: A-Rod will play in the World Baseball Classic, and he will play for these United States of America. (Let the Dominican be damned!) Eric Chavez, Chipper Jones, and David Wright will warm his seat on the bench. The streets of South Florida, Arizona, and San Diego (or wherever Team USA plays) will be safe for careless underage pedestrians.

God bless this great nation, and God bless our troops.

Vote Early, Vote Often

We're nominated for best sports blog, over here.  If you feel so inclined, surf over and click our name.  Should we fail in the popular vote, we plan thuggish lawsuits, loudmouthed bullying demonstrations, and a trip to the Supreme Court. Bush v. Gore ain't got nothing on YFSF vs. Bronx Banter.

Hey Dewey, Pass the S'Mores

It's deep winter in the northeast.  The Giants are out of the playoffs (who cares, really), with the Pats following suit just a week later (tragedy!). We won't mention the lowly Jets, who are to football what the Royals are to baseball, except with a budget. So what does all this mean?  It's fantasy camp time!!

That's right - for a measly 5K (or thereabouts), you can hobnob for 6 days with your favorite ex-mediocrities.  With the Red Sox, that means Dick Drago, Rick Wise, and John Curtis (they're kidding, right? John Curtis!??! He played for the Sox for like two years back in the mustache years, when 87 wins was a nice season). If you're lucky, you might catch a glimpse of Dwight Evans (but only if you are well-behaved during rest hour).  The Yankees don't offer any names or guarantees, you have to pony up your cash with the expectation that the storied franchise will provide someone more shag-worthy (fly balls, that is) than Kevin Maas or Butch Wynegar.  Either way, you get to keep your hat and shirt, play on a regulation major league diamond, and throw back blue plate specials with someone you think might have spot-started for the team of your childhood, if only you could remember what position they played. 

The Future is Brightish

Bryan Smith's annual listing of the top 75 (100, with the honorable mentions) prospects in the game, over on the excellent Baseball Analysts site is definitely worth a read. The results? The Boston system is stacked:

#9: Andy Marte (3b)
#14: Jon Lester (sp)
#22: Jon Papelbon (sp)
#42: Dustin Pedroia (inf)
#50: Craig Hansen (rp)

It is suggested that the Sox could deal/lose both Wells and Clement and be no worse off with Lester and Papelbon stepping in.

The Yanks? They're not doing too badly either, considering some of the top talent is fairly low in the system, and not making this list. But they do have a few:

#46: Phil Hughes (sp)
#56: Eric Duncan (3b)
HM: Cristian Garcia (sp)

Some of the Yankee observers we've seen don't even count Garcia in the organization top 10, so his appearance here is a sign of a little depth.

Derek's Mini: Very Maxi

Sorry ladies, but you know what happens when New Year's rolls around: out with the old, in with the new.

Derek's (reported) new squeeze, after the jump. Because we care.

The Offseason gets F'ugly

No, not another miscommunication between GM and President leading to soap operatic resignations, but rather another piece of evidence that the Red Sox are smartly building a deep team.  Seems like a nice pickup on paper.  Now the Sox just have to get Julian clear of those postseason Mark Bellhorn demons.

UPDATE: The Golden Sombrero, newest addition to our blogroll, has some effusive praise for the move.

BBWAA: The BB Stands for Bird-Brained

The vote is in, and Bruce Sutter is this year's only HoF inductee (and just barely), edging out Jim Rice and Rich Gossage. Boy did the Sox and Yanks take it on the chin this year. How Sutter is elected and not Gossage is mind-boggling, but nevermind—when it comes to balloting for the Hall, logic is right out the window. Also screwed: Bert Blyleven (number 5 all-time in strikeouts, for crying out loud), Andre Dawson, and Jack Morris. Somehow Don Mattingly is only drawing 12 percent of the vote, which is basically ridiculous seeing as Rice is pulling nearly 65 percent and Kirby Puckett is, ahem, actually enshrined. Feh.