Bobby V: The Camille Paglia of managers

This week, Redsock manager/activist Bobby Valentine unleashed upon the Yankees the full fury of his Churchhillian powers of literary tonguesmanship, and we're still rubbing ointment onto the scald marks, trying to move forward.

The fact is, when a razor-witted ESPN intellectual takes verbal aim, there isn't much you can do other than cower and wait for the next Captain Morgan commercial. Remember: Valentine was a member of that ESPN-Mensa, reality TV frat house, the ex-jocks turned social critics, judging contemporary society from their furnished basement game rooms.

I view Valentine as a male version of Camille Paglia, (of Endicott, NY, BTW, which should make her a Yankee fan) -- he's a feaux-neo-pro-Redsockian anti-feminist, a tough lay, who is inclined to rip Jeet for the sake of ripping Jeet, and who would happily pick Madonna to play 3B over Arod. He gets paid to produce controversy by the bucketful, and the last thing the Yankees want is to take on Camille Vagliantine in a duel of wise-cracking vulva-speak. We wouldn't have a chance. This guy used to work for ESPN, al Jazeera for the Redsock Nation. He's a masterdebater.

Moral of the story: It's going to be a strange year. Even when we win, Bobby V will say we lost.