I am done with you, Jon Lester. And you, Josh Beckett. You self important assholes.
I harbor no more love for you, Dustin Pedroia. You don't even deserve the honor of a stupid nickname any more.
Jacoby Ellsbury. Adrian Gonzales. What more important things did you have to do?
Our ENTIRE outfield! Not a SINGLE ONE of you could bother? The ENTIRE infield? Were you too busy getting spiffed up for the Beckett Bowl?
I am so disgusted. I don't care what's going on with the team. I don't care that you had a charity event to go to THAT NIGHT. I don't even care if you don't like funerals. You entitled little crybabies should have shut up, put on a suit, and gone to Pesky's funeral.
It disgusts me enough that they allowed all of you to wear his number. You couldn't be bothered to win a single game that you played in his honor. You couldn't bother to show up for the games that coincided with the Jimmy Fund Telethon. You. Didn't. Try.
Big Papi, Amadeus (who, by the way, managed attendance at both events), Dahmer, and Padilla... thank you. Thank you for being professionals, and good people, and showing up to a funeral that most people in New England would have loved to have been able to attend.
As for the rest of you? You're dead to me. You are not men.
It's going to be a quiet night at the ballpark for me tonight.
14 hours ago