Francona: The Red Sox Years: A Book Review

I was a regular contributor to the Dan Shaughnessy Watch website several years ago.  Before I became a contributor, I had always been entertained by Mike B’s takes on Shaughnessy’s writing and was happy I had found a kindred spirit in decrying Shaughnessy’s laziness, hyperbole, position-shifting, and failed logic.  I detested Shaughnessy’s constant desire to become a part of the story as well as his penchant for isolating certain characters (e.g., Curt Schilling, Bill James etc) for mean-spirited personal attacks.  I was fortunate to become a contributor to this site for several years.  I think I was motivated by my own illogical desire – that somehow either Globe editors or Shaughnessy himself would come to see what fools they were for thinking that Shaughnessy’s writing was thoughtfully provocative, profoundly revelatory, and brave.  I finally realized that my attempts were quixotic and I decided to move on.  Fortunately, this site persists thanks to the terrific efforts of Roger and Mike.  While I can’t speak to their motivations, my hunch is that they simply derive a sense of satisfaction from poking back—they provide a venue for those who believe that Shaughnessy’s rule as the king of the Boston sports media is hollow.  Roger and Mike continue to point out that the emperor is wearing no clothes.  I appreciate them giving me a chance to be a guest writer for today.

I do think we (Roger, Mike, other contributors to this site, and I) have collectively always tried to be somewhat reasonable.  There are occasions where Shaughnessy pens a thoughtful and insightful column and the efforts, though rare, are acknowledged.  I personally think that his new book, co-written with Terry Francona, is one of those efforts.  It’s a great read and I had a hard time putting it down because I found it so enjoyable.

The weekend before The Red Sox Years was released, there was an advance article in the Sunday Globe Magazine about how it came to be that Terry Francona would collaborate with Shaughnessy on a book about his Red Sox tenure.  It was fairly obvious that Francona, in his tenure as Sox manager, had developed little regard for Shaughnessy.  Francona would complain that Shaughnessy would get stories wrong (there’s a surprise).  Francona, who operates upon a strong belief system that there is a right way to do things, found that Shaughnessy’s writing in the Globe violated Francona’s sense of propriety.  Apparently, Francona’s desire to tell his story about his Red Sox years trumped any bad feelings that Francona previously held and he gave it a go with Shaughnessy.  But their collaboration did take time to evolve.  Francona and Shaughnessy reached an understanding that Francona’s voice had to trump Shaughnessy’s.  This meant that Shaughnessy had to step back from his typical level of vitriol (“snarkiness” may be more apt term here) and help Francona tell the story in his own voice.  The result is a wonderfully crafted story about a man’s love affair with baseball.

Francona grew up as the son of a major leaguer.  The book fondly recounts how Francona would tag along with his father on road trips and this fostered in young Terry a strong sense of baseball protocol and clubhouse dynamics—lessons that he would carry through with him for life as a player, coach and manager.  Francona appreciates the power of baseball statistics on some level (although perhaps not as much as fans were led to believe after Grady Little was fired and Francona was hired) but he also was acutely aware of player psyches.  To Theo Epstein, it may have been the case of recommending that Francona sit a player one day because another had better stats against the scheduled starter.  Francona saw such things as part of a larger tapestry—Francona was the one who had to deal with the personalities…there were times that the “right” statistical play would have caused more headaches than they would have helped.   Many anecdotes about Manny Ramirez and Pedro Martinez, amongst others, illustrate the challenge that Francona had grappling with personalities.

There is a Lincoln-ian quality about Francona’s leadership style.  This is best illustrated by how Francona would pick and choose his battles to provide feedback to players.  Francona’s venue was frequently the late night airplane card games – where Francona would tactfully suggest critiques—players were more receptive as they were less-guarded than they would otherwise be in the immediate emotional aftermath of a tough game.  (His approach would seem in stark contrast to that followed by his successor Bobby Valentine—it’s not that Valentine’s approach is inherently wrong but it may explain why players had such a hard time in adapting to Valentine as their approaches were so different.) 

I also enjoyed the smaller details – the fact that Francona would bristle when called “Coach”.  He was the manager and baseball protocol dictates that he be referred to as the manager and not a coach.  There are a host of similar examples of the “inside baseball” nature of the clubhouse.  While baseball statistics have become increasingly entrenched as the guiding principle of how teams are constructed and managed, there is clearly a place (a prominent one at that) for taking personalities into account and teams are wise not to ignore this important facet.  Francona is very tuned into this dimension.

Two criticisms…Francona so clearly and strongly subscribes to the power and sanctity of the clubhouse and so it would seem at odds that he would be okay with publishing some of these stories.  In his interview on a recent Bill Simmons podcast, Francona said that in the writing of this story, Shaughnessy would assume the role of intermediary and clear the stories with the principal players to make sure they had no objections.  Well, that is great but I have a hard time believing anyone clearing anything with Manny Ramirez and Manny is a frequent target in the book of Francona’s ire and frustration. 

Also, we now hear statements from Theo Epstein and Ben Cherington about how the team got away from the core way that it had built the 2004 and 2007 World Series winners.  Ostensibly, they must be referring to the trade for Adrian Gonzalez and the free agent signing of Carl Crawford.  I think they are guilty of ex post criticism here…because Adrian Gonzalez had been someone they had targeted for years and (according to this book itself) Crawford is someone that both Epstein and Francona seemed to be giddy about signing.  I think that trade and signing were things that simply did not work out and it is grossly unfair for them to be (implicitly) portrayed as a meddlesome mandate from baseball ownership to baseball management.

As for the cases of Lucchino, Henry, and Werner…this book was definitely not the first time that I had heard Lucchino could be extremely difficult; that Henry is an oddball wacko; and that Werner seems to be driven by a Hollywood mindset.  What the book does do is provide a deeper context (through anecdotes) that would cement these descriptions in the reader’s mind.  By the way, Francona is somewhat careful not to blast them for their desire to make money from every facet of the Red Sox operations; but Francona clearly does lament that the product of baseball had become but one variable amongst many in the packaging of an entertainment option to consumers.  Francona, the passionate baseball-lifer, understandably finds this shameful.  I do think Theo Epstein is portrayed in a positive light – Theo effectively played the role of go-between between Francona and ownership and he apparently did it well.  Francona placed tremendous value in his relationship with Epstein and he gives Epstein due credit for the organizational success.

Werner is the only one of the three principal owners to have acknowledged reading the book and he has denounced it as fiction.  I find his conclusion problematic because I do not think Francona and Shaughnessy are espousing lies.  I do think this is a case of a story being told through the subjective lens of Francona (and to a lesser extent Shaughnessy) and I think the story honestly captures how they saw things.  It is entirely possible that Werner witnessed similar things but simply had a different interpretation.  To call the book fiction as Werner does or to give Shaughnessy the cold shoulder as does Lucchino (who has not read the book) borders on pettiness.  I am inclined to give the benefit of doubt to Francona who seems to be widely respected, if not beloved, throughout baseball.  Wouldn’t it be funny if Shaughnessy now teamed up with the ownership trio to tell their side? 

As for Shaughnessy, he does have talent.  The stories in this book flow so well and there is a refreshing absence of the typical hallmarks from Shaughnessy’s columns.  I do think Shaughnessy has become so complacent in his column writing and his entrenchment at the Globe that he feels comfortable in pawning off whatever he lazily can to the readers of the Globe sports pages.  But, when we writes a book such as this, he actually has to make an effort because he does not have the automatic captive audience—he has to sell books.  But, for today, I did not come here to bury Shaughnessy.  I am willing to give him credit.  He and Francona have done a fine job.

Shank's Mike Napoli Column

We have a depressing column from Shank today, and not for the usual reasons (generally, due to authorship).

FORT MYERS, Fla. — He was a catcher, now he is a first baseman. He had a three-year, $39 million contract, now he has a one-year, $5 million contract. He was a 31-year-old athlete with more fortune and glory ahead of him. Now he hopes to be able to walk when he is 50.

Say hello to Red Sox free agent acquisition Mike Napoli.

Two months ago, after Napoli agreed to a whopper contract with the Red Sox, he was diagnosed with avascular necrosis of the hips. It’s the disease that ended the football/baseball career of Bo Jackson. It’s a lack of blood flow that can result in bone death. It could mean a couple of hip replacements for Napoli someday. Or worse.

This is not a good situation. For anybody. The Sox are looking for lineup protection for David Ortiz. They were willing to commit almost $40 million to Napoli. Now everything has changed. Napoli is damaged goods. And, like any normal human being, he is thinking about how this will affect him long after his playing days are over.

Looking like the world’s oldest 31-year-old man, Napoli sat in front of his locker at JetBlue Park Saturday morning and said, “I have to look at my life. I want to be able to walk when I am older and be able to play with my kids.’’

Wow. This can’t be what Ben Cherington had in mind when he sought Napoli in the free agent market after Boston’s disastrous 2012 season.

Can't emphasize that last point enough, can we?

Bostoned Out - II

Today's column features two former Red Sox players, Carl Crawford and Adrian Gonzalez, traded to the L.A. Dodgers last year. Fitting that a column that looks to the past contains a Beatles refernce, isn't it?

FORT MYERS, Fla. — Thousands of miles to the west, in the middle of the desert, Carl Crawford and Adrian Gonzalez still haunt the Red Sox.

Crawford and A-Gon are still crying about the blue meanies of Boston. Who knew that Josh Beckett would be the stand-up guy who takes his lumps and keeps quiet?

First we heard from Crawford in Wednesday’s Los Angeles Times. He described the Boston baseball environment as “toxic.’’

“I knew with the struggles I was having, it would never get better for me,’’ cried Crawford. “It puts you in a kind of a depression stage. You just don’t see a way out.’’

Naturally, things are better now that he’s with the Dodgers.

A day later, Gonzalez brought out the big lumber in USA Today.

“Chemistry is something you need among the ballplayers, but also with the owners, the coaches, and the front office,’’ said Gonzalez. “In Boston, we had great chemistry among the players — we were together — but that was only among the players. It wasn’t there with the rest. That’s why the team didn’t win. It needs to be an organization-wide thing.’’

“It’s hard to me to interpret what he was saying,’’ said Sox CEO Larry Lucchino. “It sounded pretty general. He could have been referring to managers, coaches, front office people. I’m not going to comment on the possibilities. I really don’t know. I have fond feelings for him and I wish him good luck where he is, so I don’t see it as an overall accusation against the franchise.’’

Right. As dumb and dysfunctional as the Sox were last year, Gonzo is a fraud. And Crawford sounds like a wimp. Please. These guys were paid tens of millions of dollars and managed only to fail. They were part of the worst September collapse in baseball history. Then they were part of the trainwreck of 2012.

What's interesting about this column is what Shank chose not to write. Shank just helped Terry Francona write a book about his tenure as manager of the Red Sox, where there was a certain level of criticism directed at Larry Lucchino, the man in charge of the management structure / the front office and, presumably, criticism of other parts of the organization to one extent or another. The tension between players and certain members of the management structure (Bobby Valentine in particular) was front page news last year. It is safe to say that Adrian Gonzalez's main point in the above paragraphs largely supports one of the themes of the Francona book, namely organizational dysfunction, which Shank not only co-wrote but had a certain level of influence on. Is there anyone out there who thinks Shank would not use this to his advantage and keep bashing Red Sox management & ownership?

So why did Shank respond to Crawford & Gonzalez like he did? Did he just reflexively trash former Boston athletes as the 'frauds' and 'wimps' they are, failing to live up to the hype and their multi-million dollar contracts, or

...did he not want to use the opportunity to trumpet Gonzalez's statement about organizational dysfunction and keep taking shots at management (read - Lucchino) because someone told him / he decided that he needs to be nice to Lucchino for a while and let things cool down, lest Lucchino hire some black hats and has Shank taken out Bulgarian style? I can't bring myself to give Shank credit for being clever enough to come up with this latter option, but it's perfect cover if you buy the former option. My head is spinning on this one...

Shank's Half-Assed Non-Apology

I'm not sure the word 'apology' is fitting here, but Red Sox CEO Larry Lucchino flipped Shank off in yesterday's sitdown with reporters in Fort Myers (two posts down from this one). With many years, numerous negative columns and gallons of bad blood bewtween them, Shank's current column pretends to like Larry Luccino.

FORT MYERS, Fla. — How much do I love Larry Lucchino? Let me count the ways. I may not be able to come up with 100, but there’s a lot to love about the Red Sox CEO.

■ He played basketball at Princeton with Bill Bradley.

■ He built Camden Yards, the ballpark that changed everything about the way ballparks are built over the last two decades.

■ The late George Steinbrenner hated Lucchino.

■ It was Lucchino who oversaw the spectacular renovation of Fenway Park.

■ Lucchino dated Maria Shriver.

■ Larry changed the Culture Of No at Fenway Park. He came to Boston in 2001 and announced that the Red Sox were “in the Yes Business.’’

■ Larry was a star baseball player at Allderdice High School in Pittsburgh. It’s the same high school that produced Curtis Martin.

■ Lucchino is the only man on the planet with a Final Four ring, a Super Bowl ring, and a World Series ring.

The last point is where Shank gives the game away:

■ In Earl Weaver style, Lucchino loves a good argument, has thick skin, and doesn’t take things personally.

I think the logical conclusion here is this column is just Shank saying, 'Back at ya, Larry!'

Bostoned Out?

Shank sits down with Red Sox pitcher Jon Lester and asks him a few questions.

FORT MYERS, Fla. — Grim. Glum. Red Sox lefthander Jon Lester last year looked like a 50-year-old coal miner who was falling behind on his child-support payments. He was joyless and angry. He was Ralph Nader. He was Bill Belichick. Lester was the personification of abject unhappiness.

What's a Shank column about the Red Sox without a gratuitous mention of Bill Belichick?

He looked like Nomar Garciaparra during his final days at Fenway in 2004. He looked like a guy who was “Bostoned out.’’ Lester went 9-14 with a 4.82 ERA for the last-place Red Sox. He hated pitching for Bobby Valentine, a hideous skipper who left him on the mound to take an 11-run beating against the Blue Jays at Fenway in July. Lester looked like he’d rather be a scuba diver for Roto-Rooter.

“There’s a little bit of a chip there,’’ Lester acknowledged Wednesday afternoon after the Sox’ second official workout for pitchers and catchers. “I want to prove that last year was a fluke and not have it happen again.

“I don’t think it’s a matter of talking about last year. You can just see it in some guys. We’ve never had a season like that. We’ve never got our ass kicked that bad. It’s frustrating and it’s humbling. Nobody wants to be that team.

“It was miserable.’’

Are you happy playing baseball in Boston?

“I love baseball,’’ Lester answered. “I love Boston. People don’t see me other than the fifth day and when I’m out there, but I’m not out there to kid around. I’m not out there to joke around with hitters.

“At the same time, I’m having fun. It may not look like it, but I’m having fun. I love to pitch, I love everything that there is to pitching. I take everything I do very serious. I want my game to go the way it should be. If it doesn’t, I’m going to be [upset].’’

Without a hint of irony, Shank then drops this one on Lester:

Is he Bostoned out?

“Yeah, sometimes,’’ he said. “Sometimes I want to strangle myself. It can be intimidating, especially when you have seasons like last year. It’s tough. You know [you’re bad] and your teammates are trying to pick you up and everybody else knows [you’re bad] and you’re trying to break even on the whole deal. You try to live with it and move on.

“If you can play in Boston and survive and do good, I think you can play anywhere.’’

So, the columnist arguably the most responsible for contributing to an athlete's feeling of being 'Bostoned out', asks that question of Jon Lester with a straight face? Who said irony is dead?

Backhanded

Reader Melissa was kind enough to point out Larry Lucchino's interview with reporters today. It covers a lot of topics and is worth the read, but you guys (and gals!) come here for the Shank bashing, don't you?

Lucchino claimed he has not read the new book by former Red Sox manager Terry Francona and Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy. "Francona, the Red Sox Years" has several unflattering references to Lucchino and his style of management.

"I haven't [read the book]. I know some people find that hard to believe. But it seems logical to me. I want to look forward, not back," he said. "I'm afraid if I do read it, I will find in it inaccuracies and things that will cause me to react to it in a way that would divert me and cause some kind of sideshow instead of dealing with the here and now. It seems perfectly logical to me not to read it. I don't feel any great compulsion to. I may get around to it sooner or later."

However Lucchino gave a terse "no comment" to two questions posed by Shaughnessy during his 31-minute press conference. He then answered the exact same questions posed by other reporters

I'm pretty sure 'no comment' translates easily to 'drop dead, Shank', right?

The Redemption Tour

The Boston Red Sox officially started the 2013 campaign yesterday as pitchers and catchers started spring training.

FORT MYERS, Fla. — The Red Sox know you’ve lost that lovin’ feeling. They aim to win back the hearts of disgruntled fans.

Welcome to JetBlue Park in sunny southwest Florida, the first stop on the Red Sox Redemption Tour of 2013.

The Sox assembled at JetBlue Tuesday for the first workout of pitchers and catchers. Manager John “True Grit” Farrell put the fellows through a grueling two-hour workout, and nobody texted Adrian Gonzalez to suggest a clubhouse coup d’etat.

It’s all good this year. Come on down and take a long look at John Lackey. He’s a fatty no more. Say hello to new shortstop Stephen “I’m no J.D.” Drew. And while you’re at it, check out Dustin Pedroia, who says, “They didn’t have to spend $100,000 on that focus group to find out I’m a sexy guy. I could have told them that for free!’’

The Sox were New England’s top dogs for a long time, dominating the local sports landscape and spreading their brand globally. Major League Baseball sent the Centerfold Sox to Japan in 2008. ESPN and Fox insisted on placing the Sox in prime time, knowing the Carmine Hose would boost national ratings. Every Fenway game was a legitimate sellout.

The rest of the column is about as forced and cliched as the above collection of new Shankisms indicates. I think Shank's columns could use a bit of spring training as well, including yesterday's 'effort' on Red Sox owner John Henry, with Shank taking his customary place in the back of the room, writing down the Q & A of the other reporters & Mr. Henry and passing off the regurgitation as a column.

DHL Dan - XIX

A lot of people watched yesterday's Super Bowl. Shank was apparently one of them.

NEW ORLEANS — Where do we start?

Where do we finish?

Super Bowl XLVII was one for the ages.

It started with Baltimore coach John Harbaugh putting his arm around his daughter, Alison, while kids from Sandy Hook Elementary School sang “America The Beautiful.”

It ended with Ray Lewis, looking like an ancient Joe Hardy turning into a 70-year-old man, crying, praising the Lord, and holding the Lombardi Trophy.

The Baltimore Ravens defeated the San Francisco 49ers, 34-31, Sunday night in the Superdome. Baltimore’s much-maligned quarterback, Joe Flacco, was named MVP for his 22-for-33, three-touchdown performance. In the 2013 playoffs, Flacco had 11 touchdown passes and zero interceptions. He outplayed Peyton Manning and Tom Brady and was Super Bowl MVP.

The column is your standard game recap; anyone who watched the game, some pre-game programs and the box score doesn't need to read this column.

Theme Beaten To Death

In case you haven't heard by now, tonight's Super Bowl teams are being coached by the Harbaugh brothers. Shank's right there to give us one more of the four thousand stories written about Jim & John Harbaugh the past two weeks.

NEW ORLEANS — We’re talking brothers.

It’s the theme of this Super Bowl.

John Harbaugh coaches the Baltimore Ravens and his younger brother Jim Harbaugh coaches the San Francisco 49ers. Super Bowl XLVII in the Mercedes-Benz Superdome is where the sibling bedroom brawl goes global.

Not many folks outside of football were aware of the Harbaugh brothers before this week. Sunday night, everything changes.

John and Jim Harbaugh move into the Brothers Hall of Fame alongside the DiMaggio brothers, the Wright brothers, the Alou brothers, the Kennedy brothers, the Ripken brothers, the Smith brothers, the Bulger brothers, Ringling Bros., the Smothers Brothers, Big Brother and the Holding Company, and the Brothers Karamazov.

Legacy

Shank's column from Saturday takes a parochial turn; because when you're at the Super Bowl, it's all about the Patriots.

NEW ORLEANS — Bob Kraft is the benevolent, all-powerful NFL owner, overseeing an infinite string of sellouts and success. Bill Belichick is the strategic mastermind, drawing comparisons with Vince Lombardi. Tom Brady is one of the best quarterbacks in the history of the league.

They are the holy trinity of New England football.

But they did not invent the winning culture of the New England Patriots.

It was Bill Parcells.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Keeping with the 'not exactly an original column' theme, Shank recounts his last trip to New Orleans.

NEW ORLEANS — It’s weird to be back here.

So many memories.

Much has happened since the last time we were here, since the night Adam Vinatieri converted the clock-beating field goal to beat the St. Louis Rams.

The Patriots won the Super Bowl at the Superdome in New Orleans on Feb. 3, 2002. It was in the first months after the 9/11 attacks and America was just getting back on its feet.

There was tremendous security for Super Bowl XXXVI. Paul McCartney entertained before the game and he was the “B” act. The big show at intermission was performed by U2, and the hair on your forearms stood up when when Bono sang “Where The Streets Have No Name” while names of 9/11 victims unfurled on the stage behind him.

The Patriots won. You probably remember Varitek splitting the uprights (right, Mr. Mayor?). It was the first time the Patriots ever won a Super Bowl, and it was the first time any Boston team won a championship since the 1986 Celtics beat the Houston Rockets (Houston, too close to New Orleans).

Lame lyric quote aside, this was a better effort than his previous column, notably for the few extra funny comments:

I walk through the lobby of my hotel on Poydras Street and remember that this is where the St. Louis Rams stayed before they were stunned by the Patriots in 2002. The Baltimore Ravens are in this same hotel this week. The 49ers are just a couple of blocks down Canal Street. Both Super Bowl teams are living in the middle of the party. The Giants did the same thing last year when they bunked a couple of blocks from the media center in downtown Indianapolis.

Bill Belichick would never allow this today. The Patriots generally find housing at some industrial park or nuclear-test site miles from the site of their upcoming game. The notion of the Patriots sharing living space with reporters is preposterous.

DHL Dan - XVIII

With thousands of media members in New Orleans this week to cover the Super Bowl, it's sometimes difficult to come up with original things to write about. Yesterday's Shank column does not disappoint in this area.

NEW ORLEANS — He is an athletic savant, the guy who can do anything on any field or court.

In his senior year of high school, Colin Kaepernick was nominated for all-state in basketball, baseball, and football. That’s in California, where there are several good scholastic athletes.

As a hoopster, Kaepernick scored 34 points in a state tournament playoff game. Baseball? He threw 92 miles per hour and was drafted by the Chicago Cubs. But he really loved football. So he went to the University of Nevada, where he ran the “Pistol Formation” and starred for the Wolf Pack of the Western Athletic Conference.

Kaepernick was a second-round draft pick (36th overall) in 2011 and didn’t start a game in the NFL until last Nov. 19. He has started only nine games.

Sunday night, he will call the shots for the favored San Francisco 49ers against the Baltimore Ravens in Super Bowl XLVII.

No Light Shined on Ray

It was a column about nothing.

Handed an always provocative subject (veteran Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis) on a golden platter (SI did the heavy lifting with a piece about Lewis' supposed use of PEDs during his recovery from a torn biceps this season, and the last time "Lewis" and "Super Bowl" were being mentioned in the same sentence, he was being accused of murder following a shooting outside an Atlanta nightclub after attending a Super Bowl party), The CHB suggests, hints at, insinuates, but never comes out and says, well, anything.

Is Lewis guilty of something? Is he a victim of bad luck and timing? The CHB ain't saying.

Fellowship Of The Miserable

This is a subject familiar to readers of this site. Boston Magazine writer Alan Siegel pens a terrific column on the local contingent of Boston sports writers.

Whiny, petulant, entitled, self-important—no, it's not Boston fans we're talking about, it's Boston sportswriters. How did the sports media in this town, once the envy of the nation, become so awful?

...

In late July, Red Sox first baseman Adrian Gonzalez sent the organization’s top brass a text message to complain about the team’s manager, Bobby Valentine. It was by then clear that the season was lost. Valentine had clashed with his players since spring training and, despite the team’s bloated payroll and perennially high expectations, the Red Sox looked certain to miss the playoffs for the third straight year. In response to Gonzalez’s message, two of the Sox’s owners, John Henry and Larry Lucchino, called a meeting with a handful of players to hash things out. The players, including star second baseman Dustin Pedroia, ripped Valentine behind his back. They didn’t just air a few petty grievances, they all but mutinied, declaring that they didn’t want to play for Valentine anymore.

That incident, plus several more that reflected poorly on the manager, were revealed in an explosive story published by Yahoo! Sports on August 14. Written by Jeff Passan, the article followed a June report by ESPN’s Buster Olney that called the Red Sox a “splintered group” and described the team’s clubhouse as “toxic.”

Whoever was at fault for the chaos that had descended on the team — Valentine, the players, ownership — it was clearly a massive story. Unless, that is, you happened to work as a sportswriter in Boston. While national reporters parachuted in to break a big story—as they’ve been doing with increasing frequency of late—the local press simply missed the boat.

For what it's worth, we wrote about it after reading the Yahoo Sports story and listening to Michael Felger talk about it. Shank picked up the ball a few days later.

But Abraham is hardly the only problem these days. The Boston sports media, once considered one of the country’s best and most influential press corps, is stumbling toward irrelevance. The national media not only seems to break more big Boston sports stories than the local press, but also often features more sophisticated analysis, especially when it comes to using advanced statistics. To put it bluntly, “The Lodge”—as Fred Toucher, cohost of the 98.5 The Sports Hub morning radio show, mockingly refers to the city’s clubby, self-important media establishment—is clogged with stale reporters, crotchety columnists, and shameless blowhards. Their canned “hot sports takes” have found a home on local television and talk radio, but do little but suck the fun out of a topic that’s supposed to be just that. And we haven’t even gotten to Dan Shaughnessy yet.

Once again, it's a great piece; it's worth your time. I'll just highlight the part that allows me to engage in Shaughnessy bashing!

Take Dan Shaughnessy.

Please!

After his more than 30 years at the Globe, everybody knows the columnist’s shtick: Be contrarian, be over the top, and, if at all possible, be part of the story. And why should he change? It continues to work — the rest of the city’s sports-media complex feeds on his bluster. Before that Texans game, for example, Shaughnessy used his column to gleefully ridicule the Patriots’ opponents, calling them “pure frauds.” It was the same caustic, one-liner-laden junk he’s been peddling for years. “Could this get any easier?” Shaughnessy wrote. “I mean, seriously? The planets are aligned and the tomato cans are in place.”

I'm still trying to figure out why Shank, alleged baseball writer, didn't write a damn thing about the passing of former Baltimore Orioles manager Earl Weaver. Combined with the points made above, I attribute the lack of a Weaver column to laziness and callousness. Siegel wraps it up with some advice - certainly more than I'd ever give those cocksuckers at the Globe:

Boston’s sports pages became influential because a bunch of forward thinkers had the creativity, brains, and freedom to try something different. Whatever once flourished, though, has ground to a halt.

As national publications continue to recruit next-generation talents like Lowe, Goldsberry, and the many others who went underappreciated in their home city, it’s worth stopping to consider the plight of the local sports telecast. If channels 4, 5, and 7 at last did away entirely with their evening sports segments, who around here would care? Boston sports fans are more likely to turn to ESPN’s national SportsCenter broadcast rather than the local affiliates for television highlights and news. The same fate almost certainly awaits our local publications—print and digital alike — if they fail to adapt.

Were the Globe to stop publishing sports tomorrow, how much loss would readers feel? Certainly some, but much less than even a decade ago. That’s because Boston fans have gotten increasingly used to following the ups and downs of their favorite teams in national outlets rather than local ones.

The message to The Lodge (Massarotti, Shank, Ordway & Cafardo - ed.) is clear: Change, or die the death of utter irrelevance.

Craptacular

Today's column, an excerpt from his new book on ex Red Sox manager Terry Francona, is like so many of The CHB's, full of shit.

Literally.

It's several hundred words on how Francona liked to use the bathroom in his clubhouse office, sometimes going so far as to invite people in while he was on the crapper.

Extraordinary journalism.

Epstein to Shaughnessy: You're All Wrong

It comes as no surprise that several persons are contesting various aspects of Shaughnessy's latest effort (343 pages, with pictures, all in easy-to-read type with NO big words!). Even Terry Francona, the book's subject, is backing away from the hype.

Theo Epstein is the latest to dispute some of the more salacious details. The CHB is attempting to prime the "John Henry ownership is bad" pump, a motif he's been pitching since before the ink was dry on their acquisition of the team and has carried through the years:

• "In my mind there's no question that the O'Donnell group was the way to go." (USA Today, Jan. 22, 2002)
• "[T]he bag job of a major league franchise sale..." (Boston Globe, March 27, 2005)

Now, in response to the much-discussed section on how the owners wanted to market the team -- isn't that their job, by the way? -- Epstein says there was "no direct link" between marketing meetings and the Red Sox's acquisitions of Carl Crawford and John Lackey. "I take full responsibility for those moves. It was my job to handle the pressure of a big market and make good decisions."

Theo's a standup guy. One the other hand, one wonders how The CHB walks with no spine.

Quick Slants

If anyone was wondering why Shank took a shot at Tom E. Curran (and vice versa) in the leadup to the Texans / Patriots game a few weeks ago, it's all here.

History, Revised?

The Terry Francona book continues to take a few interesting turns:

Terry Francona and Dan Shaughnessy joined Gresh & Zo Wednesday morning to discuss their new book, “Francona: The Red Sox Years.” The guys asked the former Red Sox manager about past relationships with players and how ownership affected his tenure in Boston. Also, Francona and Shaughnessy give a look into how they built their unlikely relationship.

Francona, on Tom Werner saying the manager admitted to losing the clubhouse
I don’t think the front office ever said that. I think Tom Werner made that comment that I said that I had lost control, which I had never said. I don’t think I ever lost control.

If you're inclined to equate letting certain players booze in the clubhouse with losing control of the team, that doesn't quite square with this, does it?

Based on Francona’s non-denial, it’s apparently true that some of the Sox’ starting pitchers were drinking in the clubhouse during games they were not scheduled to start. A report in yesterday’s Herald broke the story and Francona rejected an opportunity to say that it was untrue.

Next:

Francona, on the challenges of Boston
Part of being a manager in Boston, or probably a coach in Boston for that matter, is trying to put out the daily fires. There are enough of them to begin with, and the ones that aren’t there are made up. It’s part of the daily regimen. Trying to make it easier for the players to play was part of my responsibility.

So Francona, who cites putting out the daily fires as part of his job, asked one of the arsonists to help him write this book?

Francona, on Manny Ramirez taking a public beating for taking three strikes against Mariano Rivera
I tried to always stick up for Manny, I think that’s probably the reason people didn’t believe me. We had asked him to pinch hit that day and he was ready. He was back in the tunnel, he was engaged. He never got a pitch he thought he could handle, and he never offered.

Now, I don’t think he lost sleep over it. But he didn’t go up there and mail it in. He took a beating for that one, and I didn’t think that was just.

Maybe my brain's shot, but I distinctly remember one of those first two strikes with Manny's bat resting firmly on his shoulder, but not the last one.

The rest of the Gresh & Zo interview is at the first link. The best parts of the two segments are Shank's infrequent interjections.

Old School Baseball

A belated R.I.P. to one of the best, and outspoken managers of professional baseball in my lifetime, Earl Weaver, who also enjoyed interaction with the umpires. I'm surprised that Shank, a former beat writer covering the Orioles, did not write at least something about him.

Maybe next week...

Final Nail In The Coffin?

Who better to complete the financial ruin of the New York Times (parent company of the Boston Globe, AKA the Boring Broadsheet) than the most overrated, headline grabbing, self-promoting U.S. businessman of the past thirty years, Captain Combover?

Billionaire Donald Trump wants it known that he really, really wants to buy The New York Times (NYT +0.23%) even though the paper is not for sale -- and even if it were, the Sulzberger family, which has owned it for more than a century, probably would never sell it to him in a billion years.

"I have watched Mr. Trump over the years navigate much tougher acquisitions," writes Michael Cohen, a Trump spokesman. "Mr. Trump is so smart and so rich that if he wants it, he will get it. If Mr. Trump elects to purchase the NY Times, commits his time and resources, there is nothing he can’t do."

Shares of the company, which also owns the Boston Globe, were barely budging on the news, indicating that Wall Street isn't holding its breath for a deal to happen. A spokesperson for the Times couldn't immediately be reached.

Probably because the spokesperson is still laughing. Aside from my own feeling of same, skepticism is seeping out:

I could question just who are the “sources familiar with the situation” that served up this scoop, and whether they were authorized by the notoriously publicity-hungry Trump to leak it to an outlet of repute and thereby win him another day of fleeting relevance.

If, however, you're rooting for someone to run a company or two or more into the ground, and overpay for it at the same time, you got your man, Pinchy! Make the deal!

New Book Nothing New

Sports Illustrated is now running an excerpt from Shaughnessy's latest hatchet job book, and as expected, it's heavy on the panting and light on everything else.

Among the breathless revelations:

• Tom Werner cares about television.
• John Henry is really rich, and doesn't always have time to spend making hands-on decisions on  every single one of his international businesses
• The Fenway Sports Group also owns a soccer team
• Fans don't want to watch losing baseball teams or selfish players

And in the course of the fairly short excerpt, there was, as expected, at least one major factual error: "Our owners in Boston, they've been owners for 10 years. They come in with all these ideas about baseball, but I don't think they love baseball."

• John Henry: has been a franchise owner since 1989, first in AAA then since 1991 in the majors (Yankees, Marlins, Red Sox).  
• Tom Werner: franchise owner since 1990 (Padres, Red Sox)
• Larry Lucchino - President/CEO of Orioles (1988-93), President/CEO of Padres (1995-01)

So which person has been an owner for 10 years? Henry and Werner have been owners for more than 20 years each. And who buys a minor league baseball team, or spends his entire career in baseball, if he doesn't love the sport?

The prose is, well, to call it "basic" would be an insult to fifth-graders everywhere.  Fat, drunk and curly is no way to go through life, Shank.

For his part, Francona is now backing away from the harsher parts of it. What a shock.

Nevermore

Shank does a decent job wrapping up the end of the season for the Patriots.

FOXBOROUGH — We kept waiting for the big comeback. We waited for the goofy bounce that would go in favor of the Patriots. We waited for the opponents to bow at the altar of Gillette Stadium and melt into a puddle at the sight of Messrs. Belichick and Brady. We waited for Walt Coleman to call the Tuck Rule, or Billy Cundiff to miss an easy field goal attempt. We waited for the football gods to shine some light on the ever-fortunate sons of New England.

None of that happened Sunday night. The ever-lucky Patriots found no horseshoes. Pitted against a mean team of men who were not afraid (hello, Ray Lewis and John Harbaugh), they were beaten and beaten soundly.

It also means the end to columns like this one. But don't worry, Shank fans - spring's just around the corner, so it won't be too long before he's pissing down the legs of Red Sox management and ownership.

Duped

This isn't a post about Shank, but when the subject of trust in the major media is discussed, I don't have any problem throwing another log on the fire.

It was back in November, before Notre Dame played Boston College, that I made my first-ever trip to South Bend, Ind., assigned to write about star linebacker Manti Te’o.

By that time, his story was well-known, featured in everything from the South Bend Tribune to Sports Illustrated. Te’o had lost his grandmother and his girlfriend within six hours of each other in September. He had played on, helped the Irish beat Michigan State, and made a moving tribute to the girl he said he loved.

Now, suddenly, we learn that she never existed. It was mind-blowing — all the more so because I had heard it from him directly.

So I read Deadspin. I read Twitter. I watched Notre Dame athletic director Jack Swarbrick explain the college’s side of the story. I yearned to hear from Te’o. And I couldn’t help but think about my role in all of this, as yet another complicit reporter who retold Te’o’s tale.

And that's the problem, isn't it?

Maybe next time Amalie remembers the old Russian proverb 'trust, but verify'.

The Terry Francona Project - II

Terry Francona's book is out on Tuesday. Shank's pre-release column on the book is out today.

IT SEEMED LIKE Terry Francona was always mad at me.

For eight years.

My cellphone would ring and it would be a Red Sox publicist calling: “Terry wants to talk to you.” And we would talk. The manager would dispute and clarify things I’d written in one of my Globe columns. He’d explain why he left Pedro Martinez in the game after Pedro exceeded his pitch limit. He would defend using Coco Crisp over Jacoby Ellsbury at the start of the 2007 playoffs. He’d challenge the notion that he was panicking by having Jon Lester ready to pitch on three days’ rest in the 2009 postseason.

“What I wrote is just an opinion,” I’d offer.

“Well, not having information hasn’t prevented you from having an opinion” was a familiar retort from Francona.

Fortunately, he didn’t carry a grudge. I enjoyed the give-and-takes with the Sox skipper during his successful eight years (five playoffs, two championships) in the corner office on Yawkey Way. He was a baseball lifer, almost as old as I. He told great stories and he was funny. I believed that if we’d had different jobs, or more time together, we’d have gotten along great.

I was right. The former Sox manager and I spent the last year writing Francona: The Red Sox Years, which hits bookshelves Tuesday. The project was thoroughly collaborative, exhausting, and hilarious.

Of course Shank was willing to let bygones be bygones; there's money to be made here!

Shank And The Boston Celtics

On January 5th of this year, Shank went to a Celtics game and wrote a column about their loss.

Then the Celtics rip off six straight wins.

Coincidence?

Picked Up Pieces Column Time

When you don't have any ideas for a column, you write about everything. Today's picked up pieces column amply demonstrates this. He writes about the upcoming Patriots - Ravens game on Sunday, Edgar Allen Poe, The Beatles, Bill Belichick, John Fox, Grady Little, Janet Marie Smith (she redesigned Fenway over the past decade), Lance Armstrong, Penn State football, Marcus Camby, Hideki Matsui (let's get ready for baseball!!!) and sundry others.

Not to be negative, but if the Patriots win Sunday, they have a chance to become the losingest team in Super Bowl history. Four franchises have lost four Super Bowls: the Bills, the Vikings, the Broncos, and the Patriots.

"Not to be negative" - who said Shank lacks a sense of humor? Negativity has been his defining trademark for the past three decades.

In case you're wondering, Shank still hates bloggers:

Brick by brick, media access fades toward zero — a perfect future in which fans will get all their news from team websites. In a recent Sports Illustrated story, Roy Blount Jr. wrote of strict rules for those covering the Steelers: “At no time will media be permitted to interview members of the Steelers’ organization in the lobby or parking lots without prior consent from Steelers p.r.’’ The Los Angeles Angels have replaced their perfect press box with luxury boxes and moved the ink-stained crowd down the baseline. And here on Causeway Street, the Celtics are trying out a new system that closes the locker room to all media pregame. Sports Guys Rule. Pretty soon, everyone can just stay home, watch TV, and write their rambling opinions in 5,000 clever words.

Dan Shaughnessy - bitter to the last drop!

Just remember that a picked up pieces column written by a Boston Globe sports columnist isn't rambling in any respect - that's different.

The Houston Schaubs?

Shank is taking the fine art of douchebaggery to a whole new level with this column (emphasis mine):

FOXBOROUGH — The Waltz of the Tomato Cans was everything we expected.

The Patriots defeated the Houston Texans, 41-28, Sunday in the first de facto preseason playoff game in NFL history.

I’m exaggerating, of course. This was not an exhibition football game. This was a certified NFL playoff contest, and the victory elevates the Patriots to the AFC Championship game Sunday night at Gillette Stadium against the Baltimore Ravens. The Bill Belichick-Tom Brady tandem has a chance to win a fourth Super Bowl in 12 seasons.

The Patriots beat the Ravens in the AFC title game last season and lost a 1-point decision to Baltimore in September. Sunday’s rematch could be the final curtain for Baltimore’s Ray Lewis and would give the Patriots a chance to avenge Super Bowl losses in 2008 and 2012. We’ve got great drama, all around.

But Sunday’s victory over the Houston Schaubs didn’t tell us much about the Patriots. The Sons of Belichick were weak on special teams, failed to keep their foot on the Texans’ throats, and have lost All-World tight end Rob Gronkowski for the rest of the season.

Texans Redux

Now that the Patriots / Texans game is in the books, here are some questions I'll pose about Shank's next column. These are not mutually exclusive questions.

* Will he be his usual, insufferable self after correctly calling the outcome of this game? Monkeesfan, let us know what he says on the Gresh & Zolak show tomorrow or Tuesday!

* Will he dump on the Texans, and Houston / Houston fans in general, one more time?

* Will he dump on Bill Belichick because Rob Gronkowski reinjured his forearm and is out for the rest of the season?

* Will he have the balls to trash talk Baltimore and Ray Lewis like he did Houston and Arian Foster?

Shank Doubles Down On The Texans

It looks like Shank's aware of the feedback loop involved with his insult sprinkled column of Sunday, and in response has decided to flip Houston the bird one more time.

My eyes are square. I’ve been watching All-22 film since Monday. I’m doing everything I can to make a case for the Houston Texans Sunday in Foxborough.

I hung out with Gresh and Zo and learned about zero sets, wham blocks, rolled coverage, trail technique, and inside-out coverage. Cover-2 is my life.

I forced myself to watch reruns of a clown show called “Quick Slants.” I memorized the roster of the Texans, even the guys on injured reserve. I think I can predict Gary Kubiak’s seven inactives for Sunday.

As the ultimate sign of respect, I plan to change my column avatar to an image of Arian Foster.

No arrogance or condescending attitude here, agreed?

But wait - there's more! Note Shank's lack of balls use of the passive voice in the first following paragraph, painstakingly avoiding ownership of his use of 'tomato cans' and 'frauds' in that Sunday column.

This has been an emotional week for the good folks of Houston. They apparently felt disrespected when it was noted that the Texans are frauds who have no chance to beat the Patriots. A couple of references to “tomato cans” got everybody all excited (please don’t tell them I didn’t vote for Craig Biggio or Jeff Bagwell). Next thing you know, a full-blown media war broke out.

No need for that, people. Let’s cease and desist with the “you’re fat — you’re ugly!’’ stuff. This need not be personal. I like tomato soup. I even like Houston more than most travelers. I’ve been to Roger Clemens’s Spring Woods High School. I watched “Urban Cowboy” and “Apollo 13” numerous times. I’m one of the few fans who know that “Tin Cup” was shot in Houston.

We have fond memories of Super Bowl XXXVIII in February of 2004. Patriot Nation had a wonderful time when Houston served as the Super Bowl’s host city. Reliant Stadium is a terrific facility with great sightlines.

Did I mention a patronizing attitude on Shank's part? Like it needs to be brought up...

Stating The Obvious

Here's Shank on Wednesday's Baseball Hall of Fame voting:

No one was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame when voting results were announced Wednesday. Steroid backlash barred the likes of Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens — for now — from induction into the shrine in Cooperstown, N.Y. Voting is conducted by members of the Baseball Writers Association of America.

Thank you, Mr. Spock!

Leave Shank Alone!

At least that's the battle cry from local political reporter Jon Keller, who for some unexplained reason comes to Shank's defense after the latter's Sunday rip job / bulletin board material for the Houston Texans.

BOSTON (CBS) – I knew when I read Dan Shaughnessy’s column in the Globe the other day that it was going to have ugly repercussions, and I was right.

...

Shaughnessy is taking heat from some fans right now for supposedly “jinxing” the Pats with what he wrote, but I have to side with him on this one.

For most, if not all sports fans, trash-talking an opponent – as long as it doesn’t cross basic boundaries of taste – is an integral part of the fun.

And for many Boston sports fans, trash-talking comes naturally as an extension of the art of the “rank,” the pointed but essentially-friendly insult shared between friends. I know some folks get upset when Red Sox fans chant “Yankees Bleep,” but they don’t understand that it’s really a sign of respect for their most-feared opponent.

So, leave Dan Shaughnessy alone. He’s just doing what comes naturally.

Which is pissing people off; this isn't exactly a news flash around here.

The question I would pose to Mr. Keller - is it, or should it be, the columnist's perogative to engage in 'trash talk'? And I don't mean criticising a team's abilities (for instance, their QB is untested in playoff games, etc.); the snide use of 'tomato cans', 'fraudulent', etc. is what I'm getting at.

It used to be in the old days that a columnist could write something like this and not be held accountable; the advent of the internet and blogs allow for a generous amount of pushback for us to point out when a columnist is writing like an asshole, as Shank did with decent amounts of Sunday's column. I respectfully disagree with Mr. Keller's plea to leave Shank alone. Shank asked for it; let him enjoy the consequences.

Hall No! Shank Won't Go

Woe is Dan: He has to vote for the Hall of Fame.

OK, so that's not exactly true. He can resign from the BWAA. Or he could send in a blank ballot.
But whining about it is easier, not to mention more fun! So let's hear what The CHB has to say:

• "I voted for Jack Morris, Tim Raines, Alan Trammell, and Curt Schilling."

Three out of four right ain't bad. Morris didn't totally suck, but he's the classic case of voters looking at what he was *capable* of versus what he actually did. So go on.

• "I did not vote for the greatest home run hitter of all-time. I did not vote for a guy who won 354 games and seven Cy Young trophies. I did not vote for a guy who hit 60 or more homers in a season three times. I did not vote for a catcher who hit 427 home runs. I did not vote for a first basemen who hit 449 home runs. I did not vote for a guy who hit 569 homers and cracked 3,020 hits."

So that means no Bonds, Clemens, Sosa, Piazza, Bagwell, Palmeiro or McGwire. To support his passing off the buck, The CHB trots out the least respected and most ignored criteria for the Hall: The player’s character.

Keep in mind that the Hall includes Ty Cobb (racist), Grover Alexander (drunk), Mickey Mantle (drunk), Gaylord Perry (self-avowed cheater), Babe Ruth (gambler, drunk), Paul Molitor (drug user), Ferguson Jenkins (ditto), Don Sutton (doctored the balls), Enos Slaughter (racist) ... the list goes on and on. And that doesn't begin to count all the guys who used greenies, uppers, amphetamines and other performance-enhancing drugs not called HGH or steroids. But no matter. It's OK to want to string a guy up for the color of his skin, but not OK to use a drug that has never been proved to make any difference.

Evidence of PED use doesn't matter to him, The CHB acknowledges. And, because he's not voting for the best players, talent doesn't matter either.

Which is something Shank knows all too well.

Arian Foster Loves Shank

In yesterday's column, Shank once again referred to the Hoston Texans as frauds. Houston's running back Arian Foster did not take too kindly to Shank's remarks.

Arrogance, Reflected

After spending the better part (for a writer as hacktastic as Shank, is that a contradiction in terms?) of his mediocre career lambasting players as prima donnas, owners as arrogant, and everyone else as basement trolls, The CHB has truly become that which he lives to despise.

For today, for the second time in three days and the third time in a month, The CHB calls the Texans "frauds" and says the Patriots will walk over the competition to the AFC Championship.

Who is calling who arrogant? For The CHB, whose range as a columnist runs the gamut from childish name-calling to demeaning of talent and everything in between -- and why not, since he's had a pretty lucrative run perpetrating his own fraud on the owners of the Boston Globe -- this is the epitome of his projectionism.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

Btw, oh Curly one, it's Reliant Stadium, not Reliant Field. 

Wearin O' The Green

Shank's first column on the Celtics in over two months, unsurprisingly, comes after a loss.

I came to the Garden with the best of intentions.

Not that bad, I reasoned. The Celtics had lost seven of nine and were abysmal on a recent western road trip. They were two games under .500, not even playoff-worthy if the postseason had started New Year’s Day.

But I couldn’t believe it was that bad. Not after last year, and the year before. Those Celtics teams started slowly, then played great in the spring. They were a gift. They were aging overachievers. They had the right stuff. They were respected and feared, which is a great combination.

These 2012-13 Celtics?

Not so much.

Those of us who've been watching the Celtics with regularity in the same timespan could have told you anything Shank wrote in his column. And, hasn't Shank been harping on the age of the Celtics players, oh, for the past four years or so, and now he seems almost surprised at the result?

Brady / Manning Hype, Two Weeks Early

Shank's utterly predictable column on the 'dream' matchup for the AFC Championship game.

Go ahead. Amuse yourself with the Patriots’ prospects against the Ravens, Colts, or fraud Texans.

Not me. I’m jumping ahead to the main draw. I’m fast-forwarding to the game that destiny demands.

Tom Brady vs. Peyton Manning in the AFC Championship game.

Again.

It’s the game you want. It’s the game the NFL has wanted since Manning made “The Decision.’’ And now we are going to get it . . . in three weeks. When assorted Colts, Ravens, Bengals, and fraud Texans have been sent home.

Get set for an avalanche of clichés over the next two weeks.

I believe it's already started...

The Four Horsemen Were All Named Larry Bird

The CHB consumes 783 words to regurgitate one of the most cliched and trite punchlines of 2012: the "end" of the Mayan calendar.*

From the Tricky Dick Nixon opening to the "no tomorrow" close, the entire column is one huge cliche, which, of course, is The CHB's lame attempt at a joke.

But the lesson, other than that the CHB, given 23 years to come up with something original for this piece,** failed miserably (surprise!), is that when his mendacity intertwines with his amateurish comedy, mendacity wins every time. What a shock.

The other sad truth is, it may take the end of the world to finally rid us of the crap Shaughnessy peddles each week.

*Shaughnessy's entire column rests on the widely discredited notion that the so-called "end" of the calendar meant the apocalypse is upon us. Unfortunately for Shank, we've been reading about that misapprehension for at least a year. One wonders if he still tells knock-knock jokes around the office.
**Speaking of unoriginal, chalk up another Larry Bird sighting.

Season's Bleatings

Since the prophecies of the Mayans have proven false, we are treated to more Dan Shaughnessy columns. In this case we are revisiting Shank's dumbest column of the year as one of the year's fifty worst, selected by David Wagner at the Atlantic Wire.

Dan Shaughnessy in The Boston Globe on blood-lusting bloggers You know those awful fans who cheer when an athlete on the other team gets injured? That's basically what bloggers do for a living, according to Dan Shaughnessy. Oh, and their responsible for such taunts, too. "It is about fanboy bloggers who kill everyone and everything under the brave cloak of anonymity," he writes.

Trouble with History

Oh this is precious.

The CHB takes a break from flip-flopping on the NFL to weigh in on the 2013 baseball season. Never mind that this is still 2012, but what the hey!

And yes, per usual, Shank trots out all the tired history of the Red Sox' last-place finishes. Must be exhausting spending all that time cutting and pasting from Wikipedia  each day.

And then the CHB lays into the acquisitions. While he can't quite call the Sox cheap, the implication is clear. What Mr. Wikihistory can't seem to recall, however, is how similar the Red Sox of 2013 are starting to look to the Red Sox of 2003.  Kevin Millar was a Marlins reject who we stole from Japan. The Opening Day DH was the "other" Giambi. The immortal Todd Walker was at second. Trot Nixon was coming off a down year where he hit just .256. Bill Mueller was a Cubs castoff who had his .262 in the weaker league the year before. And some slob columnist was calling new pickup David Ortiz a  "giant sack of you-know-what" before he had even stepped on the field.

So once more, we recap Shank's less-than-brilliant Sox forecasts:

• Like in 2003, when he wrote the Red Sox will win the World Series. (They didn't.)
• And in July 2004, when he wrote the Red Sox won't win the World Series. (They did.)
• And in September 2009, when he wrote "It feels like the Red Sox are going to the World Series." (They didn't.) 
• And in September 2011, when he wrote "It is not 1978.  (It was.)

That team made it to the seventh game of the ALCS, and then won the whole shebang the next year.

Head in the Air

For at least the fourth time in the past month (and who knows how many more on the vomit-inducing Dan Shaughnessy Show?), The CHB determines that wins and losses in the NFL come down to who wins the opening coin flip.

Seriously.

Then he contradicts himself within almost successive paragraphs, first writing

"[The 49ers] ignored the league-wide memo that urges all Patriot opponents to wet their pants at the sight of Bill Belichick and Tom Brady. They did not forget everything they knew. They did not do stupid things...."

And following that with

"The plain truth is the Niners could have led, 44-3 when it was 31-3. They fumbled inside the Patriot 10. Colin Kaepernick overthrew one of his receivers who had beaten the coverage. They missed a 39-yard field goal."

Oh yes, and whining about fawning fanboys and proclaiming he's the only guy in town who looks at the Patriots objectively, he reiterates his preseason prediction that the Pats are Super Bowl bound.

Brilliant.

All Drewn Up

How long until The CHB makes snide and unfounded comparisons between Stephen Drew and his brother (and ex Red Sox RF) J.D.?

Our guess is, the bitterness rises even before the ink is dry on a Sox contract with Drew the Younger.

Shank will probably even compare him to Eddie Bird.

All In

In today's column, Shank continues his I Heart The Patriots Tour.

Tom Brady knows.

You could hear it when he spoke after Monday night’s 42-14 beatdown of the previously 11-1 Houston Texans. And again Wednesday.

Brady knows this is the year. He knows that this Patriots team has an opportunity to finish what the 2007 team and the 2011 team started. The 2012 Patriots have positioned themselves to win Super Bowl XLVII on Feb. 3 at the Superdome in New Orleans.

Shank fills out the column with the obligatory man crush fluff:

He looked truly happy.

Why not? Tom Brady is the personification of “Living the Dream.’’ He has two healthy sons and a newborn daughter. He is better looking than George Clooney, has more money than Jay Gatsby, and is married to the highest-earning model in the world.

He can pull off anything. Who else could promote men’s UGG boots and live to talk about it?

Mark Wahlberg — another guy who Has It All — visited the Patriots’ sideline before Monday night’s rout. Marky Mark is wealthy, famous, accomplished, and has a picture-perfect family. He was “The Fighter.’’ He invented “Entourage.’’ He is the executive producer of “Boardwalk Empire,’’ one of the best television series of all time.

And like everybody else, Mark Wahlberg wishes he was Tom Brady.

You'd think some people would be embarassed writing shit like that last sentence. You'd also think some people would be embarassed with the obviously transparent jump on the bandwagon in the midst of a winning streak when it was less than a month ago he was finding fault with the Patriots in any manner possible.

Shank Nails It

The New England Patriots won handily last night, 42 - 14, a result that concerns DSW commenter Monkeesfan:

Shank will become more insufferable now because he nailed this one - the Texans got crushed 42-14.

Lo and behold, the Boston sports columnist who hijacked the bandwagon.

Patriots look like they’re heading to Super Bowl

FOXBOROUGH — The Falcons don’t scare me a bit. The Niners could provide some resistance and we’ll get a look at them this weekend. But if you really want to know the truth, the team that scares me in Super Bowl XLVII is the . . . New York Giants.

Sorry for the buzzkill. But the Giants are on my mind today.

The Patriots are going to play in the Super Bowl Feb. 3 in New Orleans. Nobody in the AFC is better than New England. Not this year.

Insufferable is pretty apt here; the only thing missing is a few 'sons of Belichick' Shankisms to put it over the top.

Is Shank Trolling Us?

One line only from today's column:

The Patriots are going to win their “Monday Night Football” game against the Texans, and they are going to dominate.

Why would he say something like that? Granted, the Patriots have five blowout wins this year - at Tennessee, at Buffalo, the London game versus Saint Louis, versus Indianapolis and the Jets game a fortnight ago. I'm pretty sure the Texans are playing better football than those teams. I'm not saying it won't happen but it's not likely.

I think this is a setup for a pissy column tomorrow if the Patriots lose, nothing more. All that from one sentence. I'll ask Mike if I can change the masthead to 'We barely read him so you don't have to.'

The Terry Francona Project

The former Red Sox manager's book will be out next month. You may know that Our Man Shank is the book's co-writer.

When he wasn't on the "Baseball Tonight" set, Francona, along with Dan Shaughnessy, wrote a book about his eight seasons in Boston. It's scheduled to come out in January.

"I hope people want to buy it," he said with a laugh. "It's eight years of a lot of funny [stories], some emotional [stories], a couple sad things. Dan busted his rear end on this thing. First of all, the fact that me and him were together doing it was a shock to me (you are not alone, Tito - Ed.). First time I picked him up, I told him, 'You have to black out the windows because I don't want people to see me driving you around.' I had a year I could do it because under normal circumstances you can't do it. It ended up being kind of fun.

"I think for the most part, if somebody ends up being bent out of shape, that was not ever the intent. It was just to tell the story and I hope people take it that way because I think it's a really good story."

This marks the second time today I read a sentence about Shank that I never thought I would read. I think it's time to start drinking heavily, for the Apocalypse is upon us!

Looking Good?

It looks like I jumped the gun on Shank a few days ago. Today's column summarizes the recent efforts by the Red Sox to change their roster for the 2013 season. Since I generally don't give a rat's ass about baseball, I will avoid weighing in on each acquisition and potential trade rumors (i.e., Lester and Ellsbury), but will instead point out 'interesting' parts of the column.

That’s right, people. This nattering nabob of negativity is happy to see the Red Sox overpaying for the likes of Shane Victorino, Mike Napoli, Jonny Gomes, and David Ross (there’s no truth to the rumor that I just made up Ben Cherington was walking about Nashville saying, “three-year, $39 million contracts for everybody!”).

Shank has no problem with the perceived overspending now; he'll be singing a different tune if / when the Sox hit their first serious losing streak. He's on the bandwagon now; will he be riding shotgun in early June?

These new faces are believed to be “character” guys. Victorino, Napoli, and Gomes are legitimate big-league ballplayers who have played on the biggest stage. They represent an improvement over the people in the pitiful lineups submitted by goofball Bobby Valentine in September 2012.

Shank just loves goofballs. Or used to...

Do I care that the Sox overpaid for Messrs. Napoli and Victorino? Do I care that the Sox gave David Ortiz a two-year contract (a.k.a. lifetime achievement award) when Ortiz had no bidders for his services? Not a bit. It’s not my money.

Did you ever think Shank would ever write that last sentence? Me neither.

Building for the future. There’s the issue. If the Red Sox are building for the future, they should be all about scouting and player development. They should admit that they will be terrible this year and get on with their future. They should save their money for better free agent classes.

But it’s hard to do this in Boston.

Mainly because of nattering nabobs of negativity like Shank, who will shit on the Red Sox players, managment and ownership at the drop of a hat.

Allen on Shank

Bruce Allen over at Boston Sports Media Watch has taken aim at The CHB's rerunning the same worn-out insults about the Patriots.

Read it here.

Early Lump Of Coal

"Let's see... five columns in the past two weeks... can't rag on Bill Belichick, too obvious... Can't do a whole column about Mike Napoli, Shane Victorino or other recent Red Sox news; that's too much work... Gotta get something out there...

I got it! I'll do another picked up peices column! Brilliant!"

Picked-up pieces while waiting for the Patriots to defer after they win the coin toss Monday night . . .

Where have we heard the coin toss line before?

All that said, Miller’s contribution to baseball’s plague of the late 1990s (and beyond) — a.k.a. “the steroid era” — cannot be understated. Nobody fought drug testing harder than Miller. In his view, it was a violation of civil liberties. Most important, it was a bargaining chip (Miller also had some kooky Bill James-like ideas that there was nothing wrong with PEDs). Miller’s place in sports history is eternal, but he gets a big slice of the blame pie for the steroids mess.

How about baseball writers and sports columnists that didn't write jack shit about it the whole time? Using that logic, don't you guys get the rest of the 'blame pie'?

I love the Red Sox’ acquisition of Mike Napoli, but like a lot of Sox watchers of a certain age, the rhetoric around the new slugger reminds me of the Danny Cater deal. A legendary “Fenway hitter” and Sox killer, Cater was acquired by the Sox for lefthanded reliever Sparky Lyle after the 1971 season. Over three seasons in Boston, Cater hit .262, averaging 5 homers and 27 RBIs. Lyle went on to win the Cy Young Award for the 1977 Yankees.

You heard it here first - Napoli will be the next Carl Crawford.

Sports Illustrated’s magazine sales will not spike in Cleveland when they see LeBron James on the cover as “Sportsman of the Year.’’

Way to go out on a limb there...

How’s this for obscenity? Head football coaching changes at five SEC schools — Mississippi, Texas A&M, Auburn, Kentucky, and Tennessee — will cost an aggregate $26.85 million in buyout payments. Auburn, which has dumped two coaches since 2008, is on the hook for more than $12 million. This is another reason I’m proud that I don’t live in a big-time college football town. Take that, Brother Ryan.

First off - why should Shank care what a school does with its money? Second, Shank loves to remind people that Boston's not a big-time college football town unless it suits his purposes.

Read the rest, if you dare.

Flipping over the Pats

Yesterday the CHB called the AFC East "lame-o" and said the contest pitting the Patriots and the Dolphins would be over at the coin flip.

Today he says he says we take the Patriots for granted. "We are spoiled. A win, even when it clinches a division title/playoff spot, isn’t good enough anymore."

At least he dragged himself away from the buffet and free beer long enough to change his mind on that, because the rest of the piece is a cut-and-paste from Sunday's column.

Oh, the life of the flipper.

Cold Blooded in Miami

 The CHB commits some 874 words to set up the Patriots for a smackdown should they lose today in Miami.

The tripe piece is a long-winded complaint about the Patriots' decade-long dominance of the AFC East.

Per usual, it is littered with references to people and teams completely unrelated to the matter at hand: Shaquille O’Neal, Red Auerbach, the Boston Bruins, the Boston Garden, the Boston Celtics, the Red Sox, and Spurs coach Gregg Popovich. And like all CHB mail-ins, there's the run-through of an assortment of unrelated statistics and a near-biography of anyone on the Dophins with a tie to the Boston area.
 
Once again, instead of appreciating the extended stretch of excellence, Shaughnessy has to belittle the accomplishment. One almost forgets he predicted the Pats to make the Super Bowl this year. Aren't they supposed to roll over their opponents?

And after all the snark of today's column (which should be titled "Another Shaughnessy mail-in? Ho-hum"), should the Patriots get upset, expect The CHB to be front and center Monday with a piece that utterly dismisses the team's playoff chances.

Alexandra 'Sasha' McHale

Shank's latest column talks about the recent passing of 'Sasha' McHale, Kevin McHale's daughter. Full article is at the link.

You're Fired!

After four years on the job and this season's 2 - 10 record, Boston College football coach Frank Spaziani gets shitcanned. Shank takes the predictable parochial route while pretending to care about the former coach.

We are old people who mail handwritten letters and make phone calls while the rest of the world sends e-mails and texts.

Correction - you are an old person using snail mail and rotary phones, so speak for yourself.

We are English-speaking tourists, dropped into a city square in Sicily, trying to understand what everyone is saying. We are sports-crazed Bostonians, blissfully unaware why the rest of the country makes such a big deal out of college football. Boston College, the only Division 1 program in Greater Boston, fired its football coach on Sunday. After four disappointing seasons, bottoming out with this year’s 2-10 bomb, Frank Spaziani was relieved of his duties by new athletic director Brad Bates.

This one's buried behind the Great Globe Paywall, so my guess is that we're not missing much...

Inseparable

As traditional as turkey and football, today's Shanksgiving column is designed to make you believe he's not the asshole he usually is during the rest of the season.

If the lion sleeps tonight, it’s probably because he ate too much tryptophan.

...

But football owns Thanksgiving — especially in Massachusetts, where just about every high school plays its final regular-season game this morning.

The first Thanksgiving was in 1621 at Plymouth Plantation, just a few miles from where Plymouth North (3-6) will play Plymouth South (7-3) at 10 a.m.

Et cetera, ad nauseum. Somehow it's always about Massachusetts, but you knew that already.

You also knew Monday's column was written not to disprove the notion that Shank's a lazy columnist. He is; that was his first column in eleven days. It was written for one purpose only - to leverage Gronkowski's forearm break in order to take shots at Bill Belichick, and nothing else. Mike's post below amply demonstrates this. Today's column is an annual, disingenuous staple written in order to lull the reader into believing there's a compassionate side to Dan Shaughnessy. Poppycock.

Tomorrow's column, or non-column, will prove the theorem; if the Patriots win, no column will be written unless something happens in that game that allows Shank to take one or more shots at Belichick and / or owner Robert Kraft. If the Patriots lose, all fucking hell will break loose.