When the Los Angeles Dodgers bought the Brooklyn Bridge from the Boston Red Sox, some in Boston whooped with glee.
In Showtime land where Cinderella stories and bad movies meet frequently, Carl Crawford may be the worst of both.
The man signed to a 7-year contract with the Red Sox for $146 million played not quite two years with injuries and inadequacies.
Kind souls accused him of trying too hard. Cynics labeled him too weak to play in a hard market. Racists called him terrible names, like "Monday." Baseball insiders blamed society for the crimes against Crawford.
A few nasty humorists noted that he was a walking nightmare from the first day as an overpaid superstar. The Red Sox had hired private detectives to follow him everywhere while they scouted him. It now appears they should have hired EMTs.
Carl Crawford became the injury-prone star that was the rotten apple in the barrel. He may not have eaten chicken and beer in the clubhouse with the starting pitchers, but he seemed to pull a muscle at drive-thru.
Once out of Boston, he called the town and its team "poison" and proceeded to offer his version of snakebite to the Dodgers.
Having Tom John surgery to repair his elbow, he has come to spring training in the Cactus League with nerve damage. Anyone who read the Dodger press release that Crawford might miss a couple of weeks of the season may be justified in snickering.
The code of the baseball jargon means nerve damage could be shredded mylar on the Dodger blue and on Crawford's greenbacks.
We fall into the category of Boston snipers that now feel sorry for him.