On again, off again, David Ortiz must be off his feet for the remainder of the season. He thinks he may come back for a day or two, just to show the Red Sox what they'll be missing next year.
The man who was insulted by the one year contract he signed and agreed to has not played since mid-July (pardon us, one game) because of a mysterious Achilles tendon pull.
The only thing being pulled seems to be the Red Sox proverbial leg.
Ortiz's last honest press pronouncement centered on his bitterness that he was playing well and a bunch of guys were making millions more than he and not playing because of injury.
He was, in his word, "disrespected" by the Red Sox.
Since then, he has decided to collect his paycheck and pronounce how much he wishes he could play. What doctors deemed a three-day injury turned into a two-week injury, and then a two-month injury.
This is more disturbing than the four-month shoulder separation of Jacoby Ellsbury, or his season-ending rib crack of two years ago.
We fully expect to hear that Ortiz has signed with super-agent Scott Boras as the season ends, thereby waving sayonara to the Red Sox along with fellow Boras client Daisuke Matsuzaka.
Dice-K suffered a debilitating two-month crick in the neck that sent him to the Club Med circuit for yet another stint in his five years with Boston.
A year older and more fragile, Ortiz expects the Red Sox to sign him next season to a multi-year contract for twice as much money. The Sox ought to send Ortiz to the same therapist as Daniel Bard.
Hypochondria is the worst illness in baseball, and the Red Sox have an epidemic of it.