Josh Beckett is the Red Sox answer to Doomsday, Dec. 21, 2012, and he ought to switch his number to 12/21/12.
Beckett has never made a secret of his dislike for Boston. In that sense, he resembles another former Red Sox superstar who simply put up with the fans and media in Beantown.
We speak of Roger Clemens, now on trial for lying to Congress. Clemens proved how much contempt for Congress he had with a performance that seemed to strike out only his defense lawyers.
Now a fellow Texan has followed in the footsteps of the original #21, the Doomsayer from Arlington.
Beckett has already announced to press and TV that he does not put a priority on baseball anymore. Apparently, his final contract giving him millions per season has allayed his sense of pride.
After he led the revolt of chicken fingers and beer bellies against the Red Sox management in the height of 2011's pennant race, a few defenders stood like the Minutemen at the Alamo, fighting against the angry hordes of Bostonians.
This past week Beckett failed to tell his manger he had a "lat" problem from throwing 126 pitches in his most recent outing.
Concerned, the bleeding hearts of the King John Henry VIII court decided to skip Beckett in the rotation for a start. He promptly went out to the golf range and shot 18 holes, despite arm exhaustion.
Those who worry that an asteroid will hit Fenway Park during the upcoming off-season may rest assured that the biggest dumb as a rock bomb is here already.
Josh Beckett should do the Texas two-faced two-step right out the door as soon as possible. Git along, little doggie.