The operative word yesterday about the demise of Bobby Valentine was "fired."
We began to think this was not exactly the correct word, or perhaps it was an inexact word. After a complimentary breakfast (with brown sugar, we presume), Bobby was shown the door.
With four key people at the brunch (John Henry, Tom Werner and Larry Lucchino, as well as Ben Cherington), they could have drawn and quartered Bobby in the manner of Braveheart.
Valentine was certainly "done in," but more by his players than ownership.
Some fans would say that was too good for him. They like to see him assassinated or axed. His character certainly was assassinated in the worst way. In any respect, "terminated" sounds too good for a man who gave Red Sox Nation the worst season record since 1965.
Fans could run Bobby out of town on a rail, but would that really unburden them? "Shot at brunch" would be more fitting for an employment ending.
No, to dismiss him, eliminate him, or delete him from the memory banks of Fenway would be too mild. More colorful fans want him "iced," like a mocha latte. If he took the bullet, it would be too few for the firing squad.
He took it well, considering most players wanted to see him axed, and the media ran him out of town.
The pink hat brigade wanted to give him a pink slip, but he evaded that fate.
You could say he had been relieved like Alfredo Aceves in extra innings, but that does not convey the true end of the line. Oh, they were nice and simply released him with a fistful of dollars in his contract still coming with him.
Alfred Lord Tennyson would say he crossed the bar, but that sounds rather final. He should have stopped in a few more bars near Fenway, to be honest.
The Sox let Bobby go, and it's time for the fans to let go.