The David Price Paradox

Shank wants to take a monster shit on the Red Sox lefty, but can't quite bring himself to do it.

Had a quick back-and-forth with my main man, David Price, at his locker Wednesday afternoon. Here’s how it went:

Me: “You said you were ‘searching’ after that bad outing in KC the other night. Did you find what you were looking for?”

Price: “Yup.”

Me: “Can you tell me what you learned?”

Price: “Nope.”

And it goes downhill from there, with Shank egging him on and Price lying through his teeth.

In case you're wondering, here's Shank ripping off / reusing local talk radio to write part of his columns for him:

Caller on Line 1: “Yeah, I love the Red Sox, but I just don’t trust David Price in a big game. He’s soft. He thinks too much. Are we gonna be able to pitch him against the Yankees, or in the playoffs?’’

Host: “Can’t argue with any of that. That’s the $217 million question for the Red Sox in the next few months.’’