A Modest Proposal (which does not include eating children, like Johnathan Swift)
The Red Sox have lost four straight to the two worst teams in baseball...the Tampa Bay (Devil) Rays and the Kansas City...wait, I'm sorry,I just puked a little...ok, the Kansas City Royals.
(light-headed...give me moment)
And now my thought: trade for Kevin Millar.
Yeah. Kevin Millar. Cowboy Up.
Now, those who are loyal TLBR readers are wondering just how drunk I am. And my answer: kinda sorta not. But kinda sorta maybe. Buzzed. Whatever. Hear me out.
At this point, the purveyor of the Cowboy Up phenomenon is hitting .234. His OPS is .708. I mean, the Sox could give up maybe a low-A ball prospect...or a bag of shit...or Julian Tavarez...
(pssst...the little fella Tito keeps forcing on us in the leadoff spot has an OPS of .706...and also pssst...Millar's on-base percentage is .344...wee bit Coco is getting to first-plate at a .322 clip...so maybe it's not just the Sam Summer typing...)
At this time of year, especially when the Boston media is gearing up to paint the five-game-with-the-Yankees-in-four-days next week as the most important thing to happen in baseball since Abner Doubleday decided to invent the game (sorry, Pittsfield, just going with the myth)...maybe it's time to have the slapdick Millar (slapdick = the only Midwest term I've adopted)
in the clubhouse to dole out noogies, wedgies, rat tails with wet towels, or just being the wacky second cousin from downstate Illinois.
In two weeks time, maybe Trot Nixon will be back. Ken Huckaby will be back to allow the Sox to pinch hit for Mirabelli and be inserted as a defensive replacement. Dustin Pedroia might be his first cuppa joe in the show. Ditto David Murphy and Jacoby Ellsbury.
So Millar? He can sit on the bench with Johnny Pesky and tell jokes, fart, macrame, I don't care.
But I think the Red Sox need him.
Your humble and obedient servant,