I am not opposed to Nice Happy Time Moments, per se. But that whole Nomar Garciaparra comedy show this morning stretches my inner Fred Rogers to the breaking point. Here's a guy, coming back for a one-day dumbshow so that he "can retire as a Red Sock," because that, apparently, has been a dream of his since shortly after he realized he couldn't get around on a major-league fastball any more. This is a guy whose presence in the Red Sox clubhouse lingered like a case of cholera for two years before they finally shipped him out of town, who openly loathed the team, but who, apparently having been visited last night by his Guardian Angel Clarence, now has decided that, glorioski, this was the bestest place he ever played.

I sincerely hope that, one day, Manny Ramirez, with whom the Red Sox won two more World Series championships than they did with Garciaparra, is struck by a similar revelation. If it happens, I'm sure the Red Sox will indulge him the same way. Yes, and I am the Tsar of all the Russias.







You see, Nomah, you've really had a wonderful life...