Timlin has made 4 appearances for the Sox this year, and three of them have been absolutely terrible. Admittedly all three have been against the Yankees, who are not exactly a bunch of talentless hacks at the plate. But Timlin has faced 14 Yankee batters in the past week, and has allowed 10 of them to reach base, including 2 HRs. There's a word for that: Gagne-esque. Timmy's problem hasn't been throwing strikes -- Timmy has NEVER had a problem throwing strikes. The problem is that the mean old batters at the plate are hitting those strikes very, very hard. (Timlin has gotten one ground ball out this year. One.)
"There's a 60% chance I can put this square between your eyes, you shit-for-brains pussy...."
Mike Timlin scares the living fuck out of me. Oh sure, I know that everyone around the Sox organization says what a great guy he is -- family man, friendly, etc. But he just plain frightens me. Timmy seems like the kind of guy who is super-nice, has you over for barbeques, shoots the shit over beers, and hosts the neighborhood Super Bowl party, until one day you unknowingly make a joke that he doesn't like, he becomes ultra-polite with a thin, forced smile on his face, and then five days later they find unidentifiable chunks of you washed up on a beach outside of Juneau, Alaska. I get the sense that Timmy is a guy you DO NOT FUCK WITH. Period.
Since I am 100% positive that he will probably hunt me down and kill me for questioning his value to the team, I would like to say that it is my professional opinion as a sports blogger that Mike Timlin is, quite possibly, the most valuable player ever in the history of baseball, and should be signed to one of those perpetual contracts like Dan Quisenberry (RIP) had with the Royals.
Please let me continue to live, Mike. Thank you.