Colby for Red Sox Manager

If this year's World Series taught us anything, it's that you don't need a competent manager to succeed in Major League Baseball.  It doesn't matter how badly you mismanage the bullpen, how often you intentionally walk slap-hitting utility infielders, or how many illogical bunts you instruct your guys to drop.  You don't need to be paying attention and you certainly don't need to know how to work the bullpen phone.  All you really need are three steady starters, a decent closer, a training staff steadily pumping your guys full of whatever borderline illegal wonder drug will keep them on the field, and a metric shit ton of luck.  And by luck, I mean you really just need to be facing a team with an even dumber manager than yours.

This is why I'm hereby entering my name for consideration for Boston's vacant manager position.  I figure I'm no more or less qualified than any of the other candidates.  My qualifications:

• I've lead the Pittsburgh Pirates to two consecutive National League Central Championships.  Video game managing is no different than managing in the minors, except in the minors when you charge the mound you don't collide with the television and hurt yourself.  That makes me at least as qualified as Ryne Sandberg.
• My Modesto Nuts finished with the best record in an extremely intense fantasy baseball league.  I won $20, which I put toward deodorant.  I will smell better than Dale Sveum and my name is a LOT easier to figure out how to say.
• Under my leadership, players drinking beer in the dugout shall be a thing of the past.  That's because I'm a big lush and I will steal and drink all of their beer.  I bet Pete Mackanin doesn't have the balls to lead by example like that.
• I shall hire Jose Canseco as my hitting coach.  I don't think it's any secret why Nick Punto, who swings a bat like your mother, set a career high in slugging this season under Mark McGwire's...er...tutelage.  That's the kind of bold, out-of-the-box thinking that would never occur to DeMarlo Hale.
• I all ready have my own hat.  You'll have to buy one for Mike Maddux.

There's more, but I am firmly opposed to resumes that take up more than one page.  Just call me, Cherington.  You won't regret it.  And if you don't, you should probably just save some money by putting John Lackey in charge.  He might as well do something to earn that eleventy bajillion dollars he's going to make not pitching next year.