David Ortiz, allegedly 34 years old, but really 46, is going crazy. He thinks he can get a multi-year contract extension, at around $13-15 million a year, at this point in his career? Sure he rebounded from an in-the-toilet April the last two seasons, seemingly reanimated like a zombie back into a live human, eventually providing above-decent DH stats. Sure, he’s the mythical Papi, so clutch in 2004. But he looks like he just ate the whole Thanksgiving turkey, has knees that could explode at any minute and takes 7.329 seconds to get to first base in a hustle. Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy (almost as much as his tag-team-of-goofballs partner Manny Ramirez), but he needs to be realistic about the business side of his chosen profession at this juncture in his career. As I encouraged Manny to hang ’em up a coupla weeks ago, I will nudge Ortiz to consider that the Sox picking up his option for 2011 is a high compliment. And he’d have to be high to think he can get any better anywhere else as a 100% one-dimensional player. I personally don’t think the Sox can look towards a possible playoff berth with him on the everyday roster next season. If only athletes could be a little more pragmatic about the twilight of their careers.
In other news, here are some albums I’ve recently required:
– Velvet Underground Loaded. Second pressing on Cotillion (vinyl, obviously)
-Vinnie Paz Season of the Assassin. (vinyl) Such a dope MC.
-the Budos Band I & II. (on wax!)
-Olvia Newton-John Physical. (99-cent bin guilty pleasure vinyl) Was she the first hyphenated rock star?
-Kanding Ray Pruitt Igoe. (wax almost as black as the bass!)
-Brian McBride The Effective Disconnect. (waxy soundtrack to a documentary about disappearance of bees)
-Erik Skodvin Flare. (mp3) Really a master of the divinely dark and the heavenly creepy. Figure out that paradox!!
All for now!