For a guy with the social skill set of a 13 year old, Red Sox owner John Henry has got a huge set of marbles.
Taking young Jedi apprentice Theo Epstein with him, he flew to Texas to meet with free agent Mark Teixeira for what most observers figured was the final piece to the puzzle that would bring the 1B to Boston. Leave it to the sports agent equivalent of a zit that won't go away, Scott Boras, to throw a monkey wrench into the whole thing.
This dink tells Mr. Henry that they are somewhere around $25 million short of the best offer, which is a typical Boras move. What team? Is the offer even real, or is this Johnny Damon all over again? But instead of letting the inmates run the asylum, Henry and the Red Sox issue a public statement via an email to the Associated Press that they're out. They made their offer, Teixeira knows what it is, and if he wants to come to Boston they'll leave the light on for him.
Just not at the cost it would take to run a 3rd world country for the next decade.
I've been imagining Henry on the phone with some stooge for the past 24 hours screaming "I'm mad as Hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore!" This image has made me smile more than it honestly should have.
Finally, it looks like the Dirt Dog has found a new junkyard to defend; Trot is headed to Milwaukee to try and make the Brewers Major League roster.
My head is telling me this is a good thing; Trot is still running through walls and playing the game he loves.
My heart wishes he'd come back to Boston and be the chief head knocker and gibley puncher whenever there was a donnybrook.
Someday it'll happen.