As haunting an image as it was to see Jonathon Papelbon clutch his hat after the final pitch of the 2007 season, the only relief that came to mind was reason number 10 from Why the Red Sox are Annoying. “Papelbon’s gay, not Irish.” And after watching him pitch the last inning with his face envisioning a circus seal suckoff while gazing into Captain Varitek’s mid-section, it was hard to deny that reason. You can bet a low blow like that will rattle any Red Sox fan out of their drunken states but you can be sure that Kevin Youkilis will open some eyes tonight as he and the rest of the Aryan Brotherhood burn a cross in celebration. No this isn’t going to be a platform to drown in the sorrows of another Boston Red Sox championship (although feel free to comment as needed, it does help a little), this is your first and last wake-up call Red Sox Nation, the evil has shifted and their is little time to escape.

I recently came across a classic F*BOSTON moment involving the great Ted Williams and an incident that occurred in a game at Fenway Park against the rival New York Yankees on August 7, 1956. After dropping an easy fly ball, Williams was booed heavily by the Boston fans. Upon his return to the dugout, Williams retaliated by spitting into the faces of Red Sox fans sitting over the dugout. Now that is pure class, what a reaction from Boston’s much beloved Splendid Splinter himself, Ted Williams. But if the act itself wasn’t classic enough, his comments to the Boston Herald may have been even better, “I’m not a bit sorry for what I did. I was right and I’d spit again at those booing bastards. Some of them are the worst in the world. Nobody’s going to stop me from spitting.” Preach on Ted Williams, I’ve never had so much respect for man with Red Sox.

The infamous Red Sox Nation appears ready to turn over the presidential responsibilities from interim president Jerry “Bawston” Remy to the likes of an elected fan. Wow, had I known Red Sox Nation was taken this seriously, I might have mobilized the Evil Empire to strike back. Then again, Theo “Anakin” Epstein is doing a good job to bleed John Henry’s pockets for average ballplayers in Evil Empire-like fashion (i.e. Julio Lugo - .209 AVG + .278 OBP = $9M / JD Drew - .260 AVG + 6 HR = $14M). Yea, it’s fun to see those red-haired, freckled faces of New England fans perk up at the chance to lead Red Sox Nation with abilities far inferior to that of our real government. The Nation’s First Fan will indulge their powers with privileges including: Red Sox tickets, use of a Fenway Park suite and an all-expenses trip to Spring Training. They will throw out the ceremonial first pitch of the 2008 home opener and log all of their actions into a club-provided blog. Although details of the fan appointed tenure remains unclear, it will be interesting to see if fans turn on their own in the eventual coup d’etat of Red Sox Nation’s early political development.

Please allow me to introduce my new 26th favorite player in Major League baseball, Shannon Stewart. With two outs in the bottom of the ninth on the verge of Curt Schilling’s first career no-hitter, Stewart stepped to the plate with all intentions of becoming a hero to Red Sox haters everywhere. And with one swing of the bat, we thank you Shannon Stewart.

Resting comfortably within the confines of a Hall of Fame showcase lie the bloody socks that have not only allowed self promoter Curt Schilling market his 2004 postseason performance as legendary but have also reloaded the smoking guns of conspiracy controversy. During the broadcast of Wednesday nights game between the Red Sox and Orioles, Baltimore play-by-play announcer Gary Thorne questioned the credibility of Schilling’s bloody socks causing a media storm of enormous proportions to develop in response to his comments. The nonchalant musings of Thorne and Jim Palmer during the telecast came to life courtesy of clubhouse chatter started by Red Sox catcher and well known sarcastic, Doug Mirabelli. “It was painted,” Thorne said. “Doug Mirabelli confessed up to it after. It was all for PR.” The backlash that followed was anything but nonchalant as all walks of life have chimed in on the story. Thorne himself has since retracted the statement, leading on that he mistook Mirabelli’s sarcasm for truth.

The streets were a buzz throughout Boston on Wednesday night with fans praising the second coming, Daisuke Matsuzaka, as their savior to the future. But in the storied debut that carried lofty expectations rich in headlines, it wasn’t the messiah that reigned supreme, but a King from Seattle that quietly stole the spotlight from the pride of the Fenway faithful. Just three days following his twenty-first birthday, Felix Hernandez took the mound with all eyes focused on his opponent, and he made the most of the attention by silencing the Red Sox lineup. Not until the first pitch of the eighth inning was his no-hit bid broken up, but that didn’t stop Hernandez from finishing what he started as he pitched his first complete game shutout of the season.

With the media showering reports of praise to Boston’s prized offseason acquisition Daisuke Matsuzaka and his dazzling debut, I had to wonder if everyone was watching the same game as I was. Show me a line that reads: 7 innings pitched, 6 hits, 1 earned run, 1 walk, 10 strikeouts and ordinarily I would show some respect, but come on, for as good as he is tauted by everyone on the planet, would you expect anything less from an opponent like the Kansas City Royals, a team that lost a 100 games less than a year ago? I watched pitch for pitch and was marginally impressed, especially since the Royals had Matsuzaka on the ropes in the sixth, until a blown call by second base umpire Tim Tschida allowed Dice-K to escape the inning without the Royals tying up the game. Yes, somehow, the Royals managed to be fooled by Dice-K’s unique ability to throw different pitches without changing his motion or arm angle. His fastball was consistently hitting 92mph and he was changing speeds better than drivers approaching a speed radar monitor, but as impressive as that sounds, watching him was about as exciting as attending a funeral.