Saturday, July 18, 2009

Say-hey, Clay

Edit: After writing this post, while searching for pictures of Clay Buchholz, I found out that he was dating Erica Ellyson (pictured), former Penthouse Pet of the Year, and is currently engaged to this girl. All right, I'm going to go kill myself now. Consider this my last post.

In the mix of the multitudinous questions that surround the Sox starting pitching right now, there is one immutable fact: With the exception of maybe Mariano Rivera and Randy Johnson, Clay Buchholz is the ugliest man in baseball. Seriously. He looks the spawn of Sigourney Weaver and the alien from Alien. Or maybe he's the love-child of owner John Henry and Larry Lucchino's ass. I don't know for sure, but this is not meant to take anything away from young Clay. I mean, it's not like I'm beating back women and I've never thrown a no-hitter (edit: or had sex with a Penthouse Playmate, the fucker).

So back to the big question: What now will the Red Sox do about their starting rotation? It's an enviable problem to have, and luckily for Theo Epstein and the Red Sox brass, they have assholes like me to tell them what to do with nothing at stake if I'm wrong. With a dismissive shrug and a "Hey, I don't get paid for this shit" safety net, I can spout off like a goddamn white whale and fudge my way into sounding somewhat knowledgeable---ah, the beauty of being an imaginary sportswriter.

Now my solution.

First, forget about Roy Halladay. JP Riccardi is going to want to clean out the Pawtucket clubhouse and probably take Daniel Bard in the deal. With their starting pitching as it is, and looking into my crystal ball (edit: as well as this ridiculously beautiful women who was sleeping with that mutant), the Red Sox will be competitive for the next decade with the staff they have and their prospects, like Buchholz (edit: truly unbelievable) and Michael Bowdoin. Bard is already starting to prove himself to be a major league force with major league gas, and Beckett and Lester will be around for quite some time. Hopefully, with a little luck and without the WBC, which clearly the Japanese see as the Holy Grail of baseball, Dice-K will get his head out of his ass and prove to be a decent three or four starter. Sure, having Doc in the rotation this year would be about as close as you get to a slam dunk for the pennant as you get, but I really hope the Sox have learned something from the Yankees misguided attempts at purchasing All-Star teams for the past eight or nine years. On the other hand, the Yankees have not. My prediction: Halladay goes to the Yankees at the trading deadline.

Now, the Sox still have some difficult pitching decisions to make, and as their imaginary general manager, I have a solution. As a member of management, I need to be circumspect, logical, and analytical, judiciously weighing all options. We could sit pat with the hand we have, moving Buchholz (edit: How in God's name does something like this happen?) up and down from Pawtucket as needed, then bringing him up when the roster expands in September. Or you make a more aggressive move.

Here's what I would do. I would organize my pitching according to an ugliness factor. In other words, ugly is intimidating, and intimidation has been proven to be an effective tactic in any combat. Therefore, I'd move Buchholz (edit: Am I the only one distressed by this?) into the rotation as the five-starter. Brad Penny, who looks a little like Fred Flintstone, stays as well. John Smoltz is a fairly attractive older man, so he gets moved to the bull-pen, where he's pitched an inning or two in his career. Now, this requires that I clear another roster space in the pitching staff for Buchholz (edit: Money is not enough; he must be hung, that's the only thing that makes sense). Sorry, Justin Masterson. Although Masterson is no Brad Pitt, he looks young and fresh and vibrant, all of which are NOT intimidating. So Masterson, who has been struggling lately, gets optioned to Pawtucket. Problem solved.

Wow, being the imaginary GM is almost as difficult as being an imaginary sportswriter. I need a vacation. Another one (edit: and some cyanide).

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