Will win 19 games.
Will re-introduce us to the monster who stomped all over the 2004 postseason.
Will oddly endear himself to the masses. Will blow two nailgrinders with the Yankees. Will be caught soliciting a prostitute in Kenmore Square.
Will lose the horrific goatee, but the goatee — just like Spider-man’s symbiote costume — will embark on a life of its own, and a far more interesting one at that.
In a desperate bid to get shipped out of town, will show up pantsless in the NESN broadcast booth during a spring training game. Will still be pitching for the Red Sox at the All-Star break.
Will continue to plumb the depths of mediocrity. Will also be the subject of a bizarre trade rumor involving a box of hammers.
Stats by June 1: 4 home runs, 21 RBIs, 354 T-shirts.
Will finally be recognized by the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences for his work on Homicide. Will also make Carl Pavano cry.
Will make a wrong turn during his first trip to Fenway and end up at the diamond at Billings Field in West Roxbury. It will be July before someone informs him.
Will cause a minor controversy when he pays to have a small plasma screen installed in the left field wall for his viewing pleasure. Controversy will subside after he belts 12 home runs in April.
In a desperate bid to out-batshit Tavarez, will take the mound for every relief appearance with an eyepatch and cigar.
Will punch Michael Felger square in the face. And I’m alright with that.
Will fall through a time vortex, the result of an MIT prank gone awry, and end up in the year 1840. Will be designated President Martin Van Buren’s Executive Chair of Beatdowns.
Will become Mrs. Red in an elaborate ceremony taking place exclusively in my mind.
Again, dude’s gonna win 19 games. Write it down.
