Breaking News: Mike Lowell to Remain a Person (at least until age 37)

Peter Gammons' post from yesterday, which Joist has already taken a couple shots at, is actually not so atrocious. Nothing like the craptacular fantasy of bad writing that was the A-Rod post. Could somebody be listening? Nah...

Anyway, as Joist mentioned, here's the headline:

Lowell and Behold

[crickets.] Wow, that's pretty bad. You know why? Usually a pun will involve a double meaning, and both meanings have some applicability to the particular context. Now, after some rambling about Beckett and his auras and emanations, Gammons does get around to talking about Lowell. And Lowell does sound kinda like "Lo." But what in the world does the phrase "Lo and Behold" have to do with this article, or any article that Gammons has ever written? Answer: nothing.

First sentence:

For all else that happened, the story of this postseason was the realization that the postseason MVP was Josh Beckett, and that he is emerging as the most dominant pitcher in the game.

So, the story WAS the realization THAT the mvp WAS (gasping for air) Beckett, and... Obviously, this sentence could have been written more concisely and logically. But what particularly stands out is "the realization that." What realization? Is the story really the realization that Josh Beckett is good? Isn't it the actual fact that he is good? (Not that that was such a huge story either -- with all due respect to Bostonians... actually, I take that back, no respect at all, the biggest story still was quite obviously the amazing run of the Colorado Rockies. It's not close. Anyone who is not a Masshole realizes this.) Seriously though, why are those words in there? I can't fathom a reason. Here's the normal, English, non-Gammons version of that sentence:

Amidst all the great performances this postseason, Josh Beckett stood out, emerging as both the postseason MVP and the most dominant pitcher in the game.

Or something like that. Anyway, Gammons follows with a lot of clicheed mush about the godliness that emanates from the Red Sox and surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the Galaxy to-... oh wait, that's the Force. Here's the next bit that stands out:

Beckett, as he is wont to do, stood in the shadows. But when he stands out on the mound, his aura is way beyond the hot and the fresh and the celebrity.

I was kind of pissed Joist beat me to the punch on this one. But first thing's first -- Beckett is "wont" to stand in the shadows? He is? I thought he shines brightly, like a beacon on a hill! He took baseball's biggest stage and freaking shut out everyone on national television with an icy stare and totally ridiculous pitching! Where does the shadow-lurking come in? Was he just literally standing in shadows at the parade? Does he always-, sorry, is he wont to stand in shadows at victory parades? Wow, what a weird and impossible habit.

Anyway, I dare you to make sense of that last part. I'll repeat it: "his aura is way beyond the hot and the fresh and the celebrity." It's actually sort of an aesthetically perfect bad sentence. It starts poorly, putting us immediately in the Clicheed Bullshit realm with "His aura." Then, "way beyond" -- we're drifting farther, because how is an aura "way beyond" anything? Then, "the hot and the fresh" -- what are we even talking about now? He's so good, the adjectives "hot" and "fresh" would understate how good he is? And then the punchline, where it reaches the apex, the greatest height of incomprehensible absurdity -- "and the celebrity," a noun placed where not even an adjective could have saved the sentence. Is Gammons actually and secretly a surrealist artist? It's just too gloriously awful to be real. There is no English version of this sentence; it's pure, untranslatable Gammons.

We're going to take a little break from linguistic absurdity though and talk about some substantive absurdity:

...but if the Phillies, Yankees or Dodgers are willing to go to four years and somewhere between $48 million and $56 million, Lowell likely will not be back.
This is a deal that could have been done in March or June at three years and $30-35 million, because Lowell likes Boston.

Huh? Lowell currently likes Boston, right? You used the present tense, after all. And I would think he does currently like Boston, since Boston verily and erotically loves him, not to mention the fact that he just won a championship there. So how is this a reason that a cheaper, 3-year deal was possible in June, but not now? Of course, I can think of other reasons, such as the fact that he has completely ruled at the plate since June. But strangely, that's not the reason Gammons gives. Then, immediately following that comes this:

He is one of those rare players who seems to slow everything down for everyone around him.

What does that mean? Is it good? Since the rest of the article is about Lowell being awesome, I can only assume this is good. But that's the only way I know.

Some more substantive absurdity, nay, INSANITY:

He and Alex Cora were great friends to Manny Ramirez, who played his soul out in October and had one less RBI (16) than Alex Rodriguez has had in his postseason career.

That's right -- Manny Ramirez "played his soul out." I'm just utterly flabbergasted here. Where in the hell was Gammons when Ramirez caught a small mountain's worth of flack for hitting an off-the-wall "single" at Jacobs Field in Game 5? And that, of course, was only the most egregious case of non-hustle for Manny in the playoffs; McCarver, who was frequently livid about this, will tell you that there were many others. Gammons has his head so far up his own Masshole that Manny, the single most lackadaisical player in baseball, is "playing his soul out." Just amazing.

And of course, it should be "one fewer RBI" (Joist will like that one, it's a pet peeve of his) and you gotta love the pointless, tangential shot at A-Rod.

This part isn't crazy, it's just a little weird to me:

Maybe Boston can trade Coco Crisp to Atlanta for Kelly Johnson, who could play first with Kevin Youkilis at third. Johnson is an emerging hitter whose .832 OPS in 2007 is better than Lowell's career numbers.

Obviously, Gammons knows more than I do when it comes to this kind of stuff, so maybe he just knows something I don't know. He is, after all, the man with the scoop. But this is just weird. As Gammons points out, Kelly Johnson had a very solid OPS. Moreover, he had this OPS playing the offense-deficient position of 2nd base. And he played slightly above average defense there last season, according to Baseball Prospectus (8 runs better than average in 100 games, to be exact). He would be completely wasted at first base. And why would the Braves do this deal? Kelly Johnson just had his first full season in the majors, so they have him for cheap for several more years. And as everyone knows, Coco Crisp has completely flopped since he was traded to Boston. Weird. Finally:

In business terms, what Mike Lowell remains at 37 is a valid question, but he still will be Mike Lowell the person, and no one else can make that claim.

In business terms? Don't you mean in baseball performance terms? And we know basically what Peter is trying to say here, but there seem to be a few words missing. Why didn't he just say, "whether Mike Lowell will remain this productive at 37 is a valid question"? Why the vague "what" and the inappropriate present-tense "remains"? Gammons, would you say it that way when doing a spot on ESPN? Of course, you wouldn't. As Chazz Palmentieri said to John Cusack in Bullets Over Broadway (if you haven't seen it, go to Netflix IMMEDIATELY when you're done reading this and rent it): "You know what your problem is? You don't write the way people talk." Gammons' writing would be many times better if he just wrote exactly how he spoke on ESPN.

And finally, Gammons ends his piece with a flabby cliche about how Lowell "still will be Mike Lowell the person, and no one else can make that claim." That's right, no one else can claim to be Mike Lowell, or at least Mike Lowell, the person, except Mike Lowell. I previously thought Angelina Jolie could claim to be Mike Lowell. Now I know someone else can claim to be Mike Lowell the desk lamp, but not Mike Lowell the person. Great point. And with that, we're done.

*edit: There are actually a couple short anecdotes after this in Gammons' post, but they're too short for Gammons to get any bad-writing momentum going. There's really nothing of significance to complain about there, so we're stopping here.