Things seem to be going pretty well for the Boston Red Sox. They’re the defending World Series champs. They’re meeting with the President, dining with royalty, gelling like the world’s friendliest vat of preserves by all accounts from Fort Myers. But one thing’s been bothering me. Where’s the fat guy?
Think about it. It’s the only sitcom-y element that’s missing from this team. We’ve got the straight-laced straight man (Tim Wakefield), the wacky neighbor (Julian Tavarez), the potentially dangerous neighbor (Mike Timlin), the neighborhood tough with a heart of gold who dispenses valuable advice at the end of each episode before kicking someone in the testicles (Josh Beckett), the short fiesty guy (Dustin Pedroia — actually, I can also see him as a sort of “tough in training” working with Beckett, kinda like Fonzie’s nephew Spike), the big huggable guy (David Ortiz), the Latka-esque silly guy with accent (Manny Ramirez), the drunk uncle who shows up at family dinners and makes an awkward pass at his 18 year-old neice (Doug Mirabelli), the friendly guy with a dark secret (Sean Casey — haven’t quite figured out what this secret will be, but it likely involves a string of unsolved murders in the Lake Ontario region and an Aquaman costume), the local cop who understands that sometimes kids just need to be kids (Mike Lowell) and Coco Crisp.
But where’s the fat guy? Think of Newman on Seinfeld. Or Chris Farley on Saturday Night Live. Or Al Roker before he had that slimming surgery. While the Sox are already a pretty loose bunch, a fat guy would absolutely push things over the edge.
Apparently Red Sox brass felt the same way, as they’ve allegedly signed the rotund Bartolo Colon to a minor-league deal, completing the sitcom cast and setting up what could be the world’s greatest press conference moment, in which Colon attempts to wedge himself into a Red Sox jersey that has secretly been ordered two sizes too small.
As a minor league signing, this ain’t a bad thing. It gives us a bit of Schilling insurance, provided Colon can stay/get healthy. There are worse things to gamble on, and sometimes you get lucky, like when we signed an allegedly “washed-up” pitcher who could only muster 6 wins in the previous season in Tim Wakefield.
More importantly, a Colon signing sets up the possiblity of this bit becoming reality on the greenline train outta Kenmore, only with Manny and Bartolo: