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I really don't know what to say

Really. What can be said, now, that hasn't been said already? I have nothing new or original to bring to this here table. I'm not a cheerleader. And I have no opinion to offer that's going to make you or anyone else feel better about what's happened to our season. The lineup the last couple nights has been straight out of Williamsport. But I have no blame. I have no scapegoat. Like the Sox, I'm just going through the motions.

I've never thrown in the towel this early in the season before. I don't even have plans for the weekend, and I usually plan things well in advance according to the broadcast schedule. Not anymore. Stick a fork in me. I'm done. I won't be watching any baseball this weekend. Not unless the Sox sign that lefty from Columbus, Georgia, and give him a start. Or put that 6' 8" Saudi Arabian kid at first. What are they feeding that boy? Virgins?

I've invested far too much emotional energy this year. Spent too many sleepless nights after late-inning collapses. I just can't do it any more. I've divorced myself from the season and am looking forward to the winter meetings, spring training and the 2007 season.

Change is in air, my friends. I wouldn't be surprised to see someone moved today, as a matter of fact. David Wells for instance. There's talk. Odds are good he's gone. His career is over in just a few short weeks and he's pitching fairly well. Why wouldn't the Cardinals want David Wells? A mid-level prospect in return ought to do it. I hear this morning that the Dodgers are hot for him. We'll see. Let the dismantling begin.

I don't see Coco coming back next year either. I heard an apt description the other day--he's a little man who wants to play like a big man. We've got plenty of big men already. I think Theo will move Coco if he can find a suitor who'll toss pitching back in return. If he does come back to the Sox next year it'll be without the expectations, and that alone might lead to a more productive offensive season.

It all fell apart so quickly after that extra-inning game in Chicago just before the All-Star break. The bum knees, wrists and backs. "The massacre." And now heart palpitations for the man carrying the team.

The Red Sox have the worst record in baseball during the month of August. In baseball! What else is there to say?