The Captain comes through

The news-print in recent weeks has been stuffed with unkind words about our cheery and resolute Capt. Varitek. His bat, the yellow scribes from the evening papers have said, more resembles flimsy wicker than the beefy clouting ash of his fellow team-mates. And his steely eyed countenance, once so awe-inspiring to yannigans near and far, seemed to be reduced to a muted, longing gaze from behind his catcher's screen.

Even the Good Captain's body seems to be ripe for mutiny: It was said that he backstopped a recent match with the use of only one eye, his other swollen due to some undiagnosed malady. A full nine chapters slapping his mitten and snaring each hurled pill with just half his God-given vision? A more difficult course few have endured since the days of old, when captains did battle with high-seas serpents endowed with forked tails and saucer-like eyes.

But alas, last night Capt. Varitek reminded Rooters from Boston to Barstow that he carries the clouting ash, swatting a four-ply drive with authority and reminding the Seattles' corporate brass to rue the day they swapped ball-players and lost the Good Captain from the Cascades.

Full Circuit Clout sends a Huzzah to our Capt. Varitek, a hero whose leggings are stretched around thighs made so formidable by carrying the weight of the Bostons on his back for so many seasons. Lead the charge, Captain!