The initials "GM" have taken on an entirely new meaning for the Red Sox of late. "Gigantic Mess" seems appropriate. It's been two weeks since the press conference where we saw Theo Epstein depart the position everyone assumed he'd hold until at least his twenty-year reunion at Yale. It's been two weeks since we saw principal owner John Henry, at the very same press conference, speak in a manner of disbelief usually reserved for those who have just been told there's no such person as Santa Clause.

Moving forward has never been a strong suit for the Boston sports collective. The past two weeks have been consumed by the blathering in the newspapers and on radio of "inside sources" and "unnamed team spokesmen" claiming that young Theo would be coming back after all. Allegedly, "feelers" were dispensed by both Theo and the Sox through "channels." The Red Sox Nation has been beaten over the head with a dictionary of meaningless media buzzwords. Meanwhile, the opportunity to audition for what is supposedly the most coveted job opening in professional sports has been rejected by baseball czars like...Tony LaCava? Chris Antonetti? Bostonist must ask: who the hell are these guys? Now comes word from Rob Bradford of the Lawrence-Eagle Tribune that Dayton Moore, who was as close to a Theo clone as possible, has withdrawn from the process, even after apparently impressing the Red Sox brass in his first interview last week. Moore, who is currently the assistant GM in Atlanta, has most likely been promised the throne sooner than later by the current Braves GM, 65-year-old Jon Schuerholz. Dayton No More.

Exactly at what point did the position of General Manager for the Boston Red Sox become less appealing than fry man at Burger King?

As if we hadn't endured enough foolishness over the past 14 days from the great Red propaganda machine, today comes a report from ESPN's Buster Olney on WEEI's Dale & Holley show that "unnamed team sources" have allegedly indicated that young Theo, regretting his departure, has once again sent those ever-reliable feelers through his impenetrable channels to the Red Sox Brass. And surprise, surprise: The Red Sox have "rebuffed" Theo's interest in re-kindling negotiations. Bostonist cannot recall hearing the word "rebuff" spoken so many times in an eight-hour span on sports radio. Of course, the story was eaten up like Thanksgiving pumpkin pie, and Theo-gate lives on.

So what’s our advice to Theo? To borrow a phrase from a classic Monty Python film, “run away!” Run as far away from the Red Sox as possible. Leaving was the best decision you could have made. Take the LA job, or don’t. Take the Washington job, or don’t. You can write your own ticket. You can even come back to the Sox in a few years after Larry has descended back into the netherworld. Lucchino and the Sox front office have become as reliable as the Iraqi Ministry of Information. This time last year we were basking in championship glory. Now our team, at least on an executive level, has embarrassed itself beyond coherence.

Bostonist pleads with the Sox to leave Theo alone, hire General Manager post haste, and start building our team for 2006. And if tomorrow we hear that "unnamed team sources" have confirmed Theo Epstein's identity as the Lindbergh baby, we're all moving to New York.

This post contributed by Seamus Condron