The new metaphor in Red Sox baseball is "buyers and sellers."
As the trade deadline for MLB approaches, like the witching hour, or worse-- like Last Call in a deplorable bar on Saturday night, the Red Sox should sell the farm.
Instead, they will buy the farm when they hold pat with the current team.
Though Red Sox Nation blanches at the notion of a bridge year, the Red Sox have bought the Brooklyn Bridge for exclusive use for the foreseeable future.
Lately we hear teams are involved in commerce like real estate salesmen. Apparently this accurately describes the expensive chattel that lives in chateaux in Red Sox Nation.
If you want to see where sports have gone in the 21st century, you need only think of eBay where you can sell a piece of useless baseball junk for grand profit.
You may also start to think of baseball when you think of overpaying for mediocre talent. If you're a kid, you had to trade five Jed Lowrie cards to get a John Lackey in pristine condition.
Of course, we use hyperbole. There is never a John Lackey card in pristine condition.
If you want to think of a Red Sox franchise as a lot of property, Fenway Park is a grand property lot-complete with expensive commemorative bricks that will be cemented into place as soon as the Red Sox finish redecorating the cellar where they now dwell.
If you are a buyer, you certainly don't want to buy in a location where the sea breeze knocks balls down regularly and the snow flies as early as the World Series.
Boston is not prime location. You need only ask the players who prefer the cool air-conditioned parks of Tampa Bay or the breeze off the bay in Oakland.
In this atmosphere the Red Sox remain "buyers" who have spent millions to give offense, but will not give another red cent for tribute to fans.