Mystery Fog Engulfs Redsock Nation

The Globe's on it like Pedroia's brother on a preschooler. Mystery fog. Pee soup. Cut it with a knife. Reference to John Carpenter (but no Adrienne Barbeau?)

What is it? Why is it? Who is it? WTF? OMG! FOG! (Pictured below.)

Well, Redsock Nation, welcome to our world.

You wonder whatever happened to the Idiots, the Cowboy Ups, Slappy Happy Papi, Manny Being Manny, and Cap'n V-Tek? Same thing that happened to us: The Paulies and Tinos morphed into Raul Mondesis and Giambinos. You wonder what happened to that endless tap of talent, that bottomless reservoir of perfect Theo trades and smooth signings. Yep, fratsters, welcome to Cloud World.



We've been in this fog for eight years. Best teams on paper. Also-rans in the cloud. Best I can figure is that the fog banks are in the chemistry. Somewhere inside it is the team. Somewhere in there are the batting averages, the ball-strike ratios. You can't see them. Because of the frickin fog.



And don't get me wrong: We're not out of that fog yet. Next week, that could be us.



But we have one fog horn. Best thing we did all year, our best (and cheapest) winter acquisition...



Pie in the face.


Yep. It's that perfect reminder -- administered by Mr. AJ Burnett (and others, lately) after a walk-off hit. It tells us that no matter how seriously we take this shit, we're all just a Soupy Sales skit, all on the level of Moe slapping Curly. It's men being clowns, boys snapping towels in the shower, kids playing with the boxes that their Christmas gifts came in.


Boston doesn't seem to be having fun. They're in a fog, and good grief, they're thinking about John Carpenter.



We're thinking about Adrienne Barbeau.