Kinky New Caps Reveal Redsocks' Move from Breast Fetish to Foot Fetish

The Redsocks unveiled their new "alternative" (think Pearl Jam sense of the word) road uniforms. Note the bloody sock cap, which pays tribute to Curt Schilling and those severed feet that have been washing ashore in British Columbia.


Neat, eh? You can buy one for $32. But I'm not linking it.


I believe the new caps don't give as clear a target as the "B" for pitchers seeking to bean Youkilis. But there might be something else.


For many years, social psychologists have noted the Redsock breast fetish via symbols so bold and obvious that self-respecting fans try not to stare. Even as I type, I'm trying to concentrate on the framed photograph of little Sally Fields as the Flying Nun, which holds central ground on my work station, rather than stare into their smut.

But here it is.


Imagine yourself a ceiling mirror, staring down at a showgirl in a low-cut dress. Don't worry. You're only doing what every male Redsock fan does. Look at the figure. The points. Do they remind you of anything? Ice, perhaps?





OK, want to see something really sick? Look at the blue interior patterns inside the B cups. Yep. Two pairs of mini-breasts, inside the outer breasts. Silicone, I guess.



Ever wondered why New England clam chowder is based on milk?


I don't know what happened to make them foot perverts. Maybe losing to the Rays. Maybe Manny. Still, I can't see them winning with socks on their foreheads. Used to be, out on the playing field, they were symbolically suckling their moms. Now, they're a team of Charles Nelson Reillys. I just hope we can focus enough to still hit Youkilis.