I am conflicted. It's hard to say goodbye, because even gruff and mostly unlikable, he was ours. From that bald, sweaty head from which the helmet to be slammed to the ground following a strikeout to that crazy, twitchy batting stance that every non-NESN announcer made mention of. But on the other hand, we simply cannot mortgage the future every time this situation presents itself. It was going to have to be Middlebrooks or Youk. A choice had to be made. Middlebrooks would have only stagnated, whether left on the Boston bench or shuttled back to Pawtucket. His time is now. He is younger, cheaper, healthier...and let's face it: carries none of the baggage of 2011's collapse or the ruffled feathers with Valentine (not that I don't heartily sympathize with that).
Sometimes it happens. The young kid, so much glowing promise, pushes out the veteran fan favorite. It's the nature of this game, which is designed to break your heart over and over. (Truth be told, I lived in fear of this very scenario playing itself out with Mike Lowell a couple of years ago. It brought me immense relief when he retired instead.) We couldn't have scripted a better farewell: playing dirt-dog hard, smacking a loud triple, and being lifted for a pinch runner to a roaring ovation from a curtain-call-demanding crowd. I hope those cheers ring long in his memory.
Youk will get a fresh start, away from the nagging fishbowl media of Boston and their hunger for dredging up drama. He will get more playing time without wondering who will be penciled into the lineup at which position tonight, and who will spend the game on the bench, hoping for a late game pinch hitting opportunity. And thought it will be weird to see him in another uniform, I will gladly cheer him with a hearty YOOOOOOUK every time he returns to the friendly confines of Fenway Park.
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