1. Buy off Neil Diamond. Twenty million clams would take him home. From there, we refuse to let him ever play again in Boston. We'd own his vast library of hits. We can prohibit the Redsocks from ever again playing “Sweet Caroline.” Once a game, the fans will feel sad. Their empty silence will bring us sheer pleasure.
2. Shave and waive. One by one, we sign the Redsock beards. Shave them, as per the Yankee facial hair ban, and then waive them, citing some obscure physical condition that turned up in our mandatory MRI. Make something up. A strained claviticus. They'll be damaged goods. They'll believe something's wrong. They'll have no beards. And we'll put something in the shaving cream that keeps them from ever growing facial hair again.
|In 2007, we gave Manny Ramirez the shrinking potion.|
4. Ben Affleck and Matt Damon. Kidnap them. Force them to fight each other to the death with bare hands. Broadcast it on all Boston TV stations simultaneously, so everybody must watch. Run it at 4 p.m., so the children will be getting home from school.
5. Buy the Boston Globe. We can get it for a song. (BTW, the Yankees should have done this last year.) With editorial control over the Globe, our reporters can plant stories, misquote players, brew trouble, sew the seeds of mutiny, suggest bad trades and, most of all, slip roofies into Shaughnessy's coffee and bust him down to Gammons' driver.
|In 2004, we hooked up Curt Schilling.|
6. New pie. A massive, $100 million public campaign changes Boston Cream Pie to "New York Cream Pie." Also, from now on, Columbia beets. Will think of something for the clam chowder.
7. Invite Dustin Pedroia to the NYC Winter Prom. Pair him with the Homecoming Queen and name him "King of the Ball." At his sexual-coming-of-age moment, as he is being crowned, pour buckets of pigs blood onto him. (Note: We will have to hang the buckets in the rafters beforehand.) Have everyone point at him and laugh. When Pedroia goes into a rage, blame Redsock fan Stephen King. Then, quickly... get out!
8. Bill Belichick. He's gotta be allergic to something. Cat dander, maybe?
9. Cape Cod. Looking for ideas here. I'm thinking... beaches full of carnivorous giant oarfish!