Like the kid who asks for a rocket ship, Hummer and Lindsay Lohan’s cell phone number, we’re aiming high this Christmas. We want it all, and though we know we’re not going to get it, we feel it never hurts to ask. So without anything further, here’s our list.
Tim Hudson: Hudson has made no secret of his plans to leave Oakland if he’s not served a fat contract before spring training. But this would be tough to pull off, as Oakland would likely want some good young arms and may find our prospects lacking. We do have Youkie, who Beane has been known to salivate over. It would likely require a third team as well, but we’ve got some flexibility in many areas [most notably first base] and if anyone can make this happen, it’s Theo.
Roger Clemens: It’s a pipe dream. Hell, it’s a crack pipe dream. But imagine a Clemens/Pedro/Schilling/Hudson/Arroyo starting rotation. Would you even bother to play out the season? Aw, man, the dude from Everybody Loves Raymond will be starting for us before Clemens. But imagine it…
That we continue to care not a whit about what the Yankees do this offseason: Look, for the past three winters the Yankees have sucked up the cream of the free agent crops, adding Moose, Juice, Sheff, A-Rod, The Skipper, Mary Anne, et al. This buying frenzy hasn’t earned them a series title since 2000, nor has it helped them find the location of the secret rebel base on Alderaan. I don’t fear them. Back in the salad days, the Yankees were like a nine-headed Hydra — cut off Knoblauch, and O’Neill gets the big hit; stymie Martinez, and Brosius comes through. Today, they’re the Justice League of America; lotsa high-priced Batmans and Hawkmans sitting around, but never quite gelling as a team.
Carlos Delgado: The prospect of Carlos hitting behind Manny and Papi is intriguing, to say the least. Of course, Delgoofy has already gone on record at ESPN as saying he’d “obviously consider” playin’ for the Yankees. Never underestimate the allure of that big ball of dysfunction in the Bronx. Or George’s wallet.
A subscription to the New York Post: Actually, we can read it online for free, so save yer dough, Santa. If you thought Boston sports media were tough dig on the never-ending drama that is New York sports.
Our own Red Sox Nation membership card. Just kidding. And how silly for us to think we really were fans all this time. Apparently, until you’ve plunked down your $10, you’re just a punk who thinks you’re a fan. If the price includes a night on the town with NESN’s Krisily Kennedy [or, for that matter, a free ass-kicking at Krisily's hands. We're not picky], we’re in. Otherwise… not so much. Anyway, as always, the Big Dog is voicing the Nation’s sentiments just fine, thanks. We second what he says.
Oh, and an ipod.
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In other, less exciting news, to make room for the inevitable “Who Died and Made You Matt Mantei” T-shirts, and to ensure that no loved ones suffer for lack of Sox shirts this holiday season, we’ve knocked down the price of the infamous Bellhorn T, and others as well. All proceeds keep me and Denton in hookers and bandwith. And gin. Gin mostly.