Well, that’s that. Now that a gang of plutocrat arrivistes has come in and absconded with the grandest of New England traditions, Boston must take its revenge.

Let’s see. Who likes the New York Mets?

Okay — not a lot of you. But how about this: do you like the idea of the ... Somerville Mets?

You see where this is going. Boston just can’t let some out-of-towners — John Henry, Tom Werner, and the New York Times Company, good grief! — swoop in and steal the Red Sox without a proper retaliatory strike.

That’s why it’s time to annex something beyond the borders. Take what’s theirs and make it ours. Let’s take a great institution — someone else’s geographic talisman — and bring it to Boston.

New York’s the proper candy store for the reverse heist. Sure, Henry’s from Florida, and Werner’s a misty Malibu type. But this deal has a big Manhattan fingerprint, and not only because of the Times Company. Stylistically, the play for the Red Sox was a classic New York seduction — they came in, threw weight and image around, charmed people, and (most important) ponied up explosive, allegiance-shattering ducats. The money talked. Emotion walked. That’s how New York works. Always has.

And so the correct response isn’t to moan about curses and carpetbaggers and rack up a $356 phone bill calling WEEI. Please. That’s so very Boston: whine about lack of appreciation — while someone else reaps the benefits.

No, the right move is to go down there and steal something back. And here there’s a certain advantage. Make no mistake: everything in New York is for sale. Everyone has a price. And so the Joe O’Donnells and Steve Karps, the Matt Damons and Ben Afflecks and other Boston supermachers must wipe away their tears, pull out their Fleet ATM cards, and buy something big, expensive, and definitively New York City.

The Mets aren’t a bad idea. Their two co-owners, Fred Wilpon and Nelson Doubleday, can’t stand each other, and one of them just might leap at the opportunity to sell to a bunch of Bostonians. How better to stick it to your rival?

The Yankees could be had, too, though it’s going to cost about a billion and a half. You’ll probably have to stop working on the Big Dig to finance it — but what the hell, you don’t expect them to finish that in your lifetime, anyway.

There are other possibilities. Rockefeller Center. Pack it up, put it on flatbeds, stick it on Soldiers Field Road. You could put Nancy Kerrigan in the skating rink and Lenny Clarke in Radio City Music Hall. Imagine the Brighton townies invading the Today show’s outdoor set: " Hey, Kaaaaaaaaaaaatie! Show me the moolaaaaaaah! "

Let’s see. There’s also Grand Central Station, Central Park, the Brooklyn Bridge, Governor’s Island, and the Met. The hip types might go for MoMA — and bon vivant Boston might enjoy dragging Jean-Georges or Le Bernardin northward.

How about luring a couple of New York people up here, too? Martin Scorsese and Robert De Niro would love the North End. Get Woody Allen and Soon-Yi a place in the Ritz. Harvey Weinstein — he’s already on the Vineyard in the summer. There’s Gwyneth Paltrow, Parker Posey, the Julias Roberts and Stiles, Kate Hudson, Diana Ross ... think about it. The Globe’s " Names & Faces " might actually have some Names and Faces in it!

Wait a second. Here’s the best reverse steal of all, the idea that might just compensate Boston for its painful baseball loss:

Rudolph Giuliani.

For mayor.

Of Boston.

Fugettaboutit!

Issue Date: December 27, 2001 - January 3, 2002

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