With the Yankees trading for Curtis Granderson and the ongoing drama of the Jason Bay saga combined with Christmas coming just around the corner and the angst of Red Sox Nation over the possibility that Mike Lowell is bound for Texas or God knows where, I figured we all needed a gentle reminder.
A reminder that we've got a beer swilling, nail chewing, expletive spewing, 98 mph fastball throwing honest to God Texan as the ace of our staff.
And if you think he's not good and tanked off at how the season ended last year, then by God you don't know Josh Beckett.
If I know the Commander (and I don't, but bear with me) he's been lifting like a maniac and shooting men in Reno just to watch them die since the last game with the Angels in the post-season.
'Cause that's just how he rolls.
God help the poor first batter who has to step into the box in Spring Training.
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