The Boston Red Sox will have their assortment of question marks and projects for 2019. After all baseball today has a feeding frenzy on projections. I will join in.
Sports, especially baseball, allow the casual fan and casual writer to indulge in the predictive nature. A substantial cottage industry has emerged like weeds around my compost bin that will tell the curious just how their favorite or least favorite Boston Red Sox player will do in the coming season.
I most certainly throw my money to the winds and do what I pledge each season never to do and eventually, like the rum raisin ice cream addict I am, I succumb. I could give extended details on which nationally known statistical bible I use, but will avoid advertising BP. That should be a clue that even Inspector Clouseau would find tantalizing.
My predictions are not the result of a Bletchley Park codebreakers approach and I pay about as much attention to bWAR and fWAR as I do to my wife’s herd of human dependant felines. I will review post-operative for accuracy and either by a combination of intuitive brilliance or plain dumb luck I am right as often as I am wrong. Similar to that unnamed source mentioned earlier. I now move forward to tell just what will transpire in 2019.