This pretty extraordinary picture comes courtesy of Bar Stool Sports (via Sadfans) shows the world that there are no limits to what can be airbrushed on the back of a tire cover. "I'd like Kevin Youklis and Dustin Pedroia — but make it look like they're conjoined twins in an outfield in heaven." Dunzo! And that's how dreams come true...

*****

Good morning. How is everybody? No, seriously how are YOU?

Our conversation has since become something of a scandal, mainly because Pedroia had some unexpectedly sharp words for his hometown of Woodland, Calif. "It's a dump," he told me, among other things. "You can quote me on that. I don't give a shit." In response, a Woodland motorcycle-customization company put up a sign reading: "Hey Dustin Pedroia. Maybe You Suck." (That gracious "maybe" is what stays with me, admitting as it does the possibility he doesn't suck.) A local crazy got it into his head to call up the Pedroias' tire shop and threaten to kill all the men in the family. The Sacramento Bee alone pulped a bird sanctuary to cover the fallout from Pedroia's comments.

This was all a very serious business, apparently. It was as if Tom Sawyer just had crapped on Hannibal.

Since then, Pedroia has backpedaled furiously, offering the standard damage-control line that I had taken the quotes out of context, and that I failed to realize he was joking. Here, for the record and with only minor edits, is a transcript of the portion of the interview in question (I should note that the Red Sox set ground rules for the interview, chief among them that I couldn't ask about his brother's arrest on child-molestation charges):

Me: Describe Woodland for me. ... The way it's always written about, it's like The Andy Griffith Show or something.
Pedroia: It's a dump. You can quote me on that. I don't give a shit. It's all right. To be honest with you, I had a group of about five or six friends in Woodland, in high school. Still to this day, they're my best friends. Great people, but after that ...
Me: Really? What's so bad about it?
Pedroia: It's just ... everyone wants to get out of there. You don't wanna stay in Woodland. What do you wanna stay in Woodland for? The place sucks.
Me: Did your friends get out, too?
Pedroia: Most of them. My best friend still lives downtown. He sells auto parts there. Awesome guy. A true and genuine person. But a lot of people there are kinda nosy people. They wanna know your business. The newspaper there, I don't really get along with.
Me: Why not?
Pedroia: They're just ... it's more of a tabloid.
Me: We're all tabloids now.
Pedroia: Nah, but I'm sure you wanna write positive things about me. They don't. Or they do, but they've gotta put in a spice that they don't. That to me ... I come from your town. You should embrace me. I play for the Boston Red Sox. You haven't had a lot of major leaguers come out of your city. But they don't wanna embrace me. So ...
Me: Has it been like that for awhile?
Pedroia: Kind of. Probably. I don't know. I'm at a point now, I live in Arizona, and I consider that my home.
Me: I read these stories, though. They're throwing you parades.
Pedroia: One week. One week. There's a lot of great people in Woodland. There's a lot of not-so-great people. It's just like anywhere.
Me: Do you have grandparents who live in Woodland?
Pedroia: My whole family lives in Woodland except one of my uncles. Everyone's still there. I have a big family. ... It's just one of those things where, my family grew up there, everyone's there. I think I'm at a point now ... I think I'm upset at the city for something — I can't really tell you.
Me: You mean you don't know or you don't wanna tell me?
Pedroia: I just don't wanna tell you. It's personal.
Me: I think I have an idea.
Pedroia: It'll come out later what really happened. I'm at a point where, I call my family all the time. I love my family. But I don't wanna live in Woodland. My home's in Arizona. I've turned the page. I don't forget where I came from, though. I'm a genuine person. I'll do anything for anybody, but I've just moved on.

I feel bad for Dustin Pedroia. These are all typical and largely harmless complaints, familiar to anyone who has left a small town for a bigger one, not to mention anyone who has ever had the misfortune of driving through inland California. And they're all the more understandable given what he believes to be the shabby treatment of his brother. Of course, Pedroia is a certifiable baseball celebrity now, which means he has to behave according to other people's puerile demands about what certifiable baseball celebrities should be — i.e., humble, grateful, plucked from a panel of Gil Thorp, three things no great athlete has ever been. That's idiotic. You can quote me on that.

Just to recap, here are the verbal gifts Pedroia gave to writer Tommy Craggs:

Woodland is a bedroom community of more than 50,000 people that lies 20 miles northwest of Sacramento. It is often described as being something out of Our Town, which is an odd point of comparison for a place once known by its early settlers as "By Hell." "It's a dump," says Pedroia, whose parents run a tire store on Main Street and whose family seems to occupy a position in Woodland roughly equivalent to that enjoyed by the Grimaldis in Monaco. "You can quote me on that. I don't give a shit." He shakes his head.

Pedroia acknowledges he's angry with the town for something he won't specify, though it's safe to assume it involves his older brother Brett's arrest, in January, on child-molestation charges. (Brett has pleaded not guilty.) "Everyone wants to get out of there," he goes on. "You don't want to stay in Woodland. What do you want to stay in Woodland for? The place sucks. The newspaper there, I don't really get along with. I come from your town. You should embrace me. I play for the Boston Red Sox. You haven't had a lot of major-leaguers come out of your city."

Obviously, this isn't going to increase Woodland tourism. Well maybe if there is a viable market for depressed individuals looking to visit a bleak and dirty locale that will suck the last ounces of joy from their hearts. Pedroia's negative comments resulted in many strongly worded letters to the Daily Democrat and local motorcycle businesses purchasing anti-Pedroia signage like this:

But its all fun, games, and civic pride until one person makes a death threat against the Pedroia clan. And that's what 47-year-old Woodlander Kenneth Samuels did. Of course Pedroia attempted to salvage his relationship with his hometown after he caused such an uproar:

Last year (Woodland) wanted me to be the Grand Marshall of the Christmas parade and I told my dad and one of my closest friends, 'I love Woodland but I don't want anyone to think I'm saying, hey, look at me.' I don't want people to think I feel I'm better than them. I don't think my job is any more important than anybody else's job in Woodland.

Looks like someone just became Grand Marshall of the Christmas parade forever.

Pedroia family receives death threats [Fenway West]
I Love Woodland': Dustin apologizes [Daily Democrat]

PHOTO OF PEDROIA SUCKS AT BACHMAN MOTORCYCLES: Matthew Henderson/Woodland Daily Democrat.

Pedroia's ping-pong victims include Cleveland Browns quarterback Brady Quinn, whom Pedroia baited into a match last year at the Athletes' Performance Institute in Arizona. Never mind that Quinn, a rugged 6-foot-3 and 235 pounds, towered over him.

"You want a piece of me, meat?" Pedroia said.

Ethier, who witnessed the scene, said, "Dustin was talking smack to him the whole time, talking about how he would sack Brady and put him on his back. Dustin absolutely destroyed him, and Brady couldn't stand losing to someone who is 5-foot-something. It was pretty incredible."

Perhaps Pedroia had seen Quinn's photo shoot in Interview magazine.

Like most sports proteges today, Pedroia started on his path to greatness early. While most 18-month-olds are still shitting their pants, Pedroia was swinging a bat and learning how to pick up a slider. His power at 18 months was apparently pretty good as he sent the family pet, a baby goose, to the bullpen in the sky with one swing.

Oh yeah. And Chicago Bears linebacker Lance Briggs broke Pedroia's ankle in high school. No big deal.

Heading into today's double header with the Yankees at Fenway, Pedroia sits only five points behind league leader Joe Mauer's .330 batting average. With a huge Sunday, Dustin could become the first AL player since Cal Ripken Jr. in 1983 to lead the league in batting average, runs scored, and doubles.

While I'm sure Red Sox Nation has already replaced their Tom Brady shrines with Pedroia's likeness, I don't think I could pick last year's ROY out of a line up. That should all change in the next week as the playoffs get underway and we're inundated with Red Sox drivel. I can't wait.

>>Most valuable half-pint [Boston Globe]