Five tips on dealing with Redsock fans during a long hot summer

We don't play Boston again until Aug. 6. That leaves the entire month of July to avoid Redsock fans at clambakes, bikini beach parties and AA meetings.

Everyone knows the best way to talk to the Redsock fan is with your fists.

These days, I fear riling up some loner Yankfan nutjob into spray-painting NY logos onto a Fenway Park sign. I don't want midnight blue paint on my hands.

Fact is, we have no choice but to talk with our enemy, to negotiate peace from the position of weakness. Some basic tips.

1. Admit that Dustin Pedroia is a fine, decent, serviceable grunt. By extending the olive branch on Pedroia, maybe they will acknowledge Jeter’s godlike greatness.

2. Throw Arod under the bus. Why defend him? Too much baggage. Steroids, Madonna, inability in the clutch, those creepy magazine photos where he stares into the mirror – nope, we cannot win. Throw him overboard. When his fingers hold a World Series ring, that'll be different. Until then, lost cause.

3. If they grouse about our money, or Mark Teixiera, push END DISCUSSION button. They simply cannot be allowed to pretend they are some fun-loving, low-paying, steroid-free alternative team. This is the East Coast, not LA. If they make such statements, wonder aloud why a Youkilis beaning makes a slightly higher pitch than the bonk of a coconut on Gilligan’s skull? This should end talks.

4. Remember: Like furry animals in the woods, they are more frightened of us than we of them. The more they win in June and July, the more fearful they are of losing in October. If we somehow stay afloat, they will be terrified – terrified -- of seeing everything collapse. Push them. Goad them. Let wanton fear consume them.

5. In case of emergency, mention any of the following: Big Papi, Dice-K, Ted Williams’ frozen head, Pedroia’s brother’s sex arrest, Curt Schilling’s weight, Curt Schilling’s use of ketchup, or the fact that Stephen King brings books to read during Redsock games.