I was going to save that headline for the next superstar who gets suspended for steroid use or Barry Bonds when the federal prosecutors put the screws to him for perjury; whichever came first.  However, based on how things have gone for the Sox in the past seven days I’d like to bust on Tito and some of his cohorts a bit.  I’m not angry and will not be going on a tirade, but rather I’m simply annoyed.  I’m annoyed by the fact that “we”, as fans, are not entirely ignorant and can easily apply some everyday common sense to managing and organizing his team.  We all have off weeks (translation:  brain fart) every so often and my guess is that Tito is in the middle of one, but if this continues the Nioxin I use to combat the horrors of male pattern baldness will no longer be effective because I’m contemplating ripping out all of my hair.

Issue #1

Let’s start with the second game of the Yankees series.  Wakefield finally settled down and pitched a good game, but any casual observer will know that by the 7th inning he starts working on fumes.  Knuckleball or not, you still get tired from throwing a lot of pitches.  Plus, the Yankees are notoriously patient at the plate with Wakefield and therefore his pitch count is high by the late innings.  Bringing him out to face A-Rod was foolish, considering Timlin and Papelbon hadn’t pitched since the prior Saturday.  What were you waiting for before you used them again Tito?  Timlin, prior to his stint on the DL, had been lights out for three weeks and Papelbon has been…shhhhhhhhh….on a planet unto himself.  Why not stick to the pattern and bring them in to keep things tight and give the offense a chance to win it? 

Issue #2

Game three versus the Yankees involved a whole other level of managing that is more psychology than anything else.  I’m sorry, but we all have to agree that since that fateful night in Tampa, Derek Lowe’s psyche has been directly inserted into Matt Clement’s like a bad Kirk Cameron/Dudley Moore movie.  Let’s just pray he doesn’t pick up Lowe’s libido, otherwise he’ll be lining up the ladies faster than you can say Bunny Ranch.  Would it be all too coincidental if we found out that Clement uses Lowe’s old locker?  Note to Tito, when Clement is hit by a ball, while on the mound, you immediately remove him from the ball game.  There will be no arguing this demand.  Just do it.  Do it.  Do it.  Not only was he physically injured by it, but Clement’s intestinal fortitude ranks a –72 on a scale of 1 to 10.  He can’t deal with it and you should know that.  We all know it.  Why don’t you?  I don’t care what it takes, be it testicular replacement surgery or a swift kick in the ass, but he needs an immediate remedy or we just might witness the first ever spontaneous combustion on live television.  Top that David Blaine!

Issue #3

Here is the quote from Curt Schilling when reviewing the line-up card before heading out to try and secure his 200th win.  “Youk in left?  JT Snow at first?  Alex Cora at short?  Willy Harris and his .125 batting average?  No Manny?  No Wily Mo?  What the f%#k Tito?  Are you trying to kill me?”  Sure things worked out for him in the end, thanks to Seth McClung and his inability to resemble a decent Babe Ruth pitcher.  When Lisa G, Bizarro and I saw that ingenious line-up we immediately ordered another round while waiting for the previous round to arrive.

Issue #4

I am beginning to perceive the fans as more of an enemy than the Yankees themselves.  I hate those who absolutely have no idea how the success or failure of a game is determined by millimeters.  Football has inches.  Baseball has fractions of those.  With that said let’s review Foulke’s performance from Friday night.  Foulke steps in to face Carl Crawford, by the way who is the same Carl Crawford that batted 100 for 112 in the last 3 games.  He was so locked in that nobody could get a pitch by him without it being smacked somewhere around the field.  Foulke threw the best possible pitch that more often than not puts Carl Crawford away.  What pitch is that you say?  I say the high and tight fastball.  Foulke threw one neck high and close to the black strip on the plate, but Crawford being in this outrageous zone connected for a home run.  99% of the time Crawford swings and misses that pitch, but this time Lady Luck had a soft spot for Carl and finally got a hold of one.  I thought Foulke reacted the wrong way, by being visibly upset, because he should have tipped his hat to Crawford and said “You got me”.  There was NO WAY he could have thrown a better pitch.  If you were paying any attention to the game then you would have seen that play unfold and been awed by Carl Crawford’s awesomeness.  The first thing out of my mouth was “Wow.  That was pretty amazing.”  Of course some jackasses behind the dugout had to give Foulke flack for it.  He honestly didn’t deserve it and I hope, when he jawed back at the guys, he said “At the end of the day I’m pulling in $9 mil for that home run up and you’re not.”  Go right for the jugular Keith, because they deserve it.  What also bothers me in these situations is where are his teammates and coaches?  If you’re a fan and all of a sudden Papa Jack and Big Papi start yelling at you, wouldn’t you just go to the corner for a timeout?  I’m glad I wasn’t there and sitting near those guys, because I would have laid into them far worse than anything they ever could have uncreatively imagined saying to Foulke.  I probably sound like the blogging version of the pre-castrated Julian Tavarez, but if you can’t properly follow the game than shut your friggen mouth.