Kick in the pants for fans

“Happy John is home,’’ Linda Pizzuti tweeted. “He slipped down stairs, injuring his neck. Kept at hospital as a precaution, but made it home for the derby.’’

Isn’t that just swell? Certainly we’re all relieved that the Sox owner was not seriously injured, but yesterday morning wasn’t the time to announce that Henry made it home in time to watch his Liverpool team play Everton in the Merseyside derby. It’s not what the loyal citizens of Red Sox Nation needed to hear.

On Friday, Henry’s manager of eight years was made the scapegoat for the greatest collapse in baseball history. A fall on his boat prevented Henry from appearing at the press conference (thus no chance to explain why Terry Francona would say he didn’t have the backing of management), but we’re supposed to feel good that he made it home in time for the derby?

Where are the priorities? Don’t Red Sox fans deserve better than this?

Among the clunky moments of the hideous “front office’’ press conference, we had Larry Lucchino and Tom Werner struggling with the uncomfortable Theo Epstein question. Lucchino reminded us that it was not the time to talk about Epstein’s situation, then Werner grabbed the mike and reminded us that Epstein still has a year to go on his contract.

Epstein sat in the middle, probably wondering what it would feel like to be the man who brings a World Series championship to the Cubs after doing it with the Red Sox. Bet the Sox let him talk with the Cubs.

Meanwhile, as time passes, Francona looks better and better. He has become Boston baseball’s Joan of Arc, a perfect martyr figure. One of my intrepid readers said the Francona sacking reminded him of the Saturday Night Massacre when Richard Nixon fired special prosecutor Archibald Cox.

Everybody else continues to tumble down stairs.

I certainly can’t wait for that late February morning when pitchers and catchers report and we get to revisit this epic collapse with the losers who polluted the final weeks of the baseball season.