Our man in Tampa: Alphonso's Grapefruit Photo Blog Day IV

Tampa's too Hicksville for Yonkers-spanked Alphonso. So Saturday, he cabbed to Fort Whatever to visit our best pals, the ones we pretend to dislike but deep down inside -- hey, that's us in the mirror -- those wacky, wonderful AL East, American League and World Champion Redsocks.

What an honor.

SATURDAY

9:04 a.m. Count me embarrassed. I drive 90 minutes to the complex only to find Big Jon Papelbon still snoozing contentedly. Must be nice to be Pap!

9:10 a.m. Uh-oh. Word in Bosoxland says Kev Youkilis caved early last night after "one too many," prompting Manny and Papi to Super-Glu a roll of Charmin to his clean-shaven head. Yook says no problemo, doesn't hurt. (He's been beaned a bunch of times, ya know.)

10:40 a.m. In the hotel lobby, I find club prez Larry "Evil Empire" Lucchino, an elegant, articulate and thoughtful man. As always, he's reluctant to basking in World Series glory.

10:43 a.m. In the lobby, at a corner "make-out booth," I spot the ageless Redlock legend (and future U.S. Vice President) Curtis Montague Schilling and his much younger (think Fred Thompson) wife, Melky. I can see why he'll be out 'till the all-star break. ROWR!

11:04 a.m. Well, I done "do-ed" it again. I opened my big fat piehole about Curt's shoulder problem, which is a touchy subject, because the Socks have a thing about carrying dead wood. Curt got pretty red on the collar, until Melky found his pills. After he calmed down, Curt had me document the fact that he has been in severe pain.

11:05 a.m. Grab the autograph book! Wherever the Redsocks go, bet your Academy Award Gucci gown that Ben "Armageddon" Affleck and Jennifer "Electra" Garner are in tow. (And baby makes five.) Still, I didn't know the Garn -- whoa, a 38-D, if she's over 30! -- can lift a lobby's spirits with the gift of song!

12:55 p.m. Behind the hotel, I see why the Socks look so healthy without the use of banned substances, according to the Mitchell Report. Thanks to Big Papi, who travels north with a good supply, they're eating only the choicest cuts.

1:55 p.m. I think that I shall never see/A poem lovely as a tree! Wow. Just when it couldn't get more literary, it does! Here comes the dean of American ESPN baseball Redsock-beat journalists, the bard of Boston and "hack" Hall of Famer Peter Gammons, accompanied by some up and coming interns.

2:04 p.m. Damn. I blew this shot, because Dust-in-the-Wind Pedroia keeps cracking me up. Here he is with Kev Youkilis' wife, Yogi, pretending his tongue is Super-Glued to her. (Actually, it is! That's another joke on the oft-beaned Yook!)

6 p.m. Game's over. Good riddance, too. BOOOOORING. Soon, the Champs are back into the swing of things, into the pool! Who makes the biggest splash? Jacoby Ellsbury, showing the same form that resulted in two lonnnng home runs last year at Pawtucket. He's gonna be a great one!

7:31 p.m. Oh, to be young again! Jacoby is a workout animal, always in training. Mark my words: Coco Crisp is the next Wally Pipp, and 'Coby is a lock for the Hall.

10:03 p.m. Parteeeeeee! Well, Rook o' the Year Dusty Peeeee-droia sure knows how to finish the night. I wonder if Yook is sleeping? There's still some Super Glue in the tube.