By Sisyphus
Baseball Editor

The 2009 Red Sox start the season with old bats, an old catcher, and, we fear, the same old story.

After an off-season of frantic inactivity on the part of the Red Sox Brain Trust, this year's Kenmores look a lot like the bunch that couldn't finish off the Tampa Bay Rays last October.

The usual media suspects (like Shill – see column at right) are falling all over themselves to congratulate the Red Sox front office for signing Pedroia, Youkilis, and (apparently) Lester. What was one of the most valuable and richest franchises in baseball supposed to do – let the core of the team walk? This isn't Pittsburgh.

During the off season, the Front Office had three jobs: find a heavy hitter to protect Ortiz, get some bullpen help, and trade for a catcher. We'll give Lucchino and the Boy Genius a gentlemen's C- for the bullpen, on the theory that Justin Masterson will prove effective in set up. But where's the eighth inning guy? Don't tell me about Okajima – if he had been in charge of defending Iwo Jima, Clint Eastwood would have taken it over in five outs.

Speaking of the bullpen, let's not forget that the two Sox geniuses still haven't managed to close a deal on Mr. Franchise, Mr. Championship, and Mr. World Series. Just because he acts like a goofball doesn't mean he's anything less than the single most important guy on the team. Who do you want to see in the bottom of the ninth this fall against the Yankees or the Dodgers? My vote: Mr. Jonathan Papelbon. But he doesn't come out of the bullpen unless his predecessors have held the lead.

As for stocking up on lumber, they sure showed Scott Boras how it's done, if by it you mean allowing your most sought after player to sign with your bitterest rival. The Red Sox party line is that Lowell will be back, and he'll suffice, assuming of course Drew, Ortiz, Youkilis, Pedroia, and Ellsbury all stay healthy and have career years.

We doubt it.

Speaking of aging players, the Red Sox blew any number of opportunities to trade for a catcher and will begin the season with ex-hitter Jason Varitek behind the dish. That's fine when the Sox are in the field, but this isn't football:  there are no defensive specialists. Don't get us wrong – we're fans of Varitek, but we were fans of Rebecca de Mornay once too, and she's got as much business in a batting order as Tek.

The starting rotation looks to be in good shape. We have a sinking feeling that Dice-K's sun is no longer rising, but he'll eat up some starts until he crumps out in September. The Sox have so many good arms that a few can go down without doing serious damage to the rotation. Fortunately, the Sox picked up John Smoltz to fill the gap created when Curt Schilling vacated the roster spot reserved for the Total Waste of Money.

Before we leave the starting lineup, did we mention that Julio Lugo is a stiff? We're beginning to think if there was a Stiff Hall of Fame, he'd be immortalized in bronze.

But if the outlook for the Red Sox is cloudy, it's nothing compared to the steaming hot mess in the South Bronx. The Hated Pinstripers will be inaugurating the stadium built for them by the poor schmucks of New York State without drug-addled slagger boy toy Alex Rodriguez.

For the Yankees, that's probably the good news. They're going to depend on Texeira plus decreasingly effective veterans like Jeter, Posada, Matsui, and Damon for offense, Abreu and Giambi having fled the borough. We bet that all but the new guy will be running on fumes or riding the pine by the All-Star Game. 

Their starting pitching on paper may not suck for the first time this millennium, but really how many times has a Yankee rotation not s*** the bed as soon as the season begins? Maybe they can bring Carl Pavano back.

Ever since the Millennial Year of 2004, optimism has been all the rage in New England come spring. We've felt it ourselves in past years, but not this time. Like the Yankees, the Red Sox have spent huge wads of dough but haven't built a balanced team.   

At the start of the 2009 baseball season, there's one guy in New England who has reason to feel optimistic. Unfortunately for the Fenway Faithful, his name is Frank McCourt.

Spring training on the cheap TARANTULA STATE PARK, Florida – Don't think that a sour economy has kept ol' Shill Shamelessly from covering his 53rd Red Sox Spring Training. Although the expense cuts ordered by the Publisher for all Spy reporters, even the most beloved veterans, made travel plans a little more challenging, ol' Shill isn't a man who's easily balked.  Thanks to the good offices of Red Sox Supremo Larry Lucchino, ol' Shill was conveyed to Florida in the lap of luxury, curled up cozily among the towels and gloves in the back of the Red Sox equipment truck. (By the way, tell the equipment guys to check those bottles of Gatorade before serving them in the dugout. What the hell was I supposed to do for 47 hours, hold it?)  And don't worry, Mr. Publisher, about those expensive hotel bills I racked up in past years at the Alligator Alley Motel. This year I'm pitching my tent in the wide open spaces of beautiful Tarantula State Park, only 60 miles east of Ft. Myers, as the pickup loaded with illegal stoop labor flies. As for food and drink, thanks to the legendary generosity of the Red Sox front office, ol' Shill doesn't have a care in the world. The press room corned beef sandwiches and icy-cold Buds remain the Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner of Champions! So now it's time to play ball. Folks, believe me when I tell you that the juggernaut put together by Mr. Lucchino and young baseball genius Theo Epstein is not only going to the show this year, it's going to take it all. Having wisely decided not to pay the exorbitant ransom demanded by greedy sports agents, the Sox can focus on their core of wily veterans, including J. D. Drew, Mike Lowell, and Captain Jason Varitek. Tell me, who can call a game like Tek?  I saw him take his rips during BP and let me tell you he's got the slowest [Surely, sweetest? – Ed.] swing in baseball. You'll hear a few whiny snot-nose kids bitching about the lack of a big bat behind Ortiz, the nagging injuries that plague Lowell and Drew, the lack of bullpen depth, and a couple of big question marks in the starting quintet. Of course, those were the same know-it-alls who said the team couldn't win last year. [They didn't – Ed.] And talk about a change in the clubhouse. Last year, a moody and irascible Manny Ramirez used to rebuff all questions from the working press with a snarling "Shill, go f*** yourself." This year, there's a new spirit of warmth and openness.  Just yesterday I asked Mike Lowell whether he was still bothered by his hip injury and he responded with the class and dignity you'd expect from a great athlete:  "Shill, don't take this wrong way. But go f*** yourself." Like I say, with the 2009 Red Sox, you can sense the difference.  Next week: Ace baseball columnist Shill Shamelessly continues his quest for freebies [Surely, nuggets of baseball intelligence? – Ed.] at the famous East Ft. Myers watering hole, the Itchy Alligator.