The Fragile Equilibrium of Unhappiness

It’s not one of humanity’s more noble traits, but schadenfreude certainly has its place in a pennant race. And when it comes to rooting against a team, clubhouse dissension is almost as much fun to watch as a prolonged slump on the field.

So it is with the Red Sox, especially when it comes to Carl Everett, who has an ass as red as… well, his socks. Everett has been sidelined by a knee injury for almost three weeks, joining a crowded infirmary which includes Nomar Garciaparra, Pedro Martinez, Jason Varitek, and about twenty different reclamation projects from the Sox pitching staff. Boston has slumped since Everett went down, and has been overtaken in the AL East race by the streaking Yankees.

In true panic-button fashion, the Sox players have begun to speak to each other through the media. Outfielder Trot Nixon told the Boston Globe that Everett needed to work harder at rehabilitating his knee. “We need Carl in the lineup,” Nixon was quoted as saying. “We’re doing well since he’s been hurt, but if something is wrong, we’ve got to find out what the problem is. Waiting around and not rehabbing or anything isn’t helping our ball club and isn’t helping Carl at all… You’ve got to want to get back on the field.”

Everett responded by taking the high road, telling the Globe that they should apologize to Trot for “trying to make [Nixon] look like a bad guy.” But good ol’ Carl, not happy unless he’s not happy, then lashed out at reporters. “…So what you all need to do is take your old Boston same old (expletive) out the door. There ain’t no controversy here. It’s just you all starting the same (expletive). Goodbye. Toodle-oo.”

In a bizarre twist, Nixon responded by saying that he was quoted accurately and felt no apology was necessary. Meaning, I suppose, that he was either trying to publicly cast Everett as a malingerer or else simply trying to get a rise out of him. So now I’m waiting, like the rest of the world, for Carl Everett to fire his next salvo or perhaps land Trot on the DL with a folding-chair-induced headache.

Yes, friends, it’s a dirty job, to hope that an enemy team can preserve its fragile equilibrium of unhappiness long enough to fall further behind in the race. And, to paraphrase one of my favorite movie lines, I deserve all of the dirty pleasure I get out of it.