Tonight you will be visited by three ghosts!


Steinbrenner? What are you doing in my bedroom at midnight on Christmas Eve…are you here to tell me you got Bay, you prick? And what’s with the lid?


Uh…hmmm, Bay…I mean…the ghosts. You will be visited this night by three ghosts: one from Christmas Past, one from Christmas Present and one from Christmas Future.

Ok, whatever. Listen, if you’re not here to drop off a couple of horny cheerleaders or a third baseman, get the hell out.
Hey kid, wake up.
What the…Babe?

Yeah, some guy in a funny hat said I was supposed to haunt your ass tonight. Who are you?
I’m Theo Epstein, Red Sox GM.

Heh! Good one, punk. And I’m Geppetto, Virgin Pope of Little Italy. Come on kid, I’ve got a couple of sixers on ice and some broad who wants me to “call my shot”…if you know what I mean.

I wish Pedro would drill you in the ass…

Hello Theo.

Oh shit…Mike…that whole trade thing…let me explain…

No worries Mr. E, it’s just business, right?


Uh, yeah. Business. Remember World Series MVP…”re-sign Lowell” and all that. Good times, right?

Indeed…ever have your asscheeks sewn together?


::pulls covers over head::


Hey, Amigo, you here?

Now what, a visit from Manny…

::peeks from under blankets::

Listen young Theo Epstein. A savior will rise from a small island in the south, an unlikely hero who will bring glory to your little baseball team. He will be slight of build but strong of heart. A shortstop to ease your pain.


It’s about time someone makes sense tonight. Tell me more…hey…wait a minute.
::pulls on beard::


No..don’t!


Jose! I knew it.


Come on, man. I can’t wait two more years. Scutaro, feh…


What the hell did I eat last night…

God bless us all, everyone.