The outfielder took the easy route by criticizing "the media'' with a broad brush.
Carl Crawford rarely felt welcome in Boston, where he blames the media for poisoning the atmosphere.
Nobody ever accused Carl Crawford of chicken and beer. If the former Red Sox outfielder ever did send out for munchies, it's more likely he'd wash it down with a fine whine.
Crawford is with the Los Angeles Dodgers, though you wouldn't know it by the box scores. He is trying to get healthy by Opening Day, justifying LA's trade for him as part of that momentous deal with Boston last August.
When he was here, Crawford put the blame for his disappointing play on his injuries or himself. But having escaped to the West Coast, where he is now at a safe distance, Crawford has zeroed in on what he considered the real problem in Boston: the media.
Move over, Terry Francona. Give him a little elbow room, Bobby Valentine. There's a new member of the club of men who feel they are serving the public good by leaving Boston, and then firing shots from afar.
Francona criticized the club's executives. Valentine's targets were harder to identify, though he probably woudn't mind if we thought he meant ... well, everybody.
Crawford was more specific. "They love it when you're miserable,'' he said of the press contingent in Boston, which he considered the root of all evil.
Nobody defends the media, because the only people who can do it effectively are in the media. Nobody wants to hear that, so the Carl Crawfords of the world usually get a free shot while the public nods in agreement.
As a member of this band of thieves, I understand that. As in any business, we're not filled with a cast of prize-winners - there are good ones and bad ones and a lot of in betweens.
And I'm sorry if loyal readers don't want to hear a media guy defend his sorry lot, but please indulge me, just this once.
Because there is one thing the Carl Crawfords of the world should know. "The media'' is not one person dressed up as dozens of people.
Crawford took the typical and easy route. He slapped a broad brush on everybody, then walked away with the confidence of a man who had just exonerated himself.
But it wouldn't hurt for him to be more specific, Carl. Who was it, exactly, that done you wrong?
Was it Dan Shaughnessy, famed hatchet man? Those talk show guys who hardly ever show up at games but talk like experts?
Was it the beat writers who wasted 30-minute chunks of their lives, waiting dutifully for you to come to your locker and give your side? Was it the TV people who generally lobbed a few softballs your way, or the surburban reporters who know you wouldn't recognize them by name if you were stuck in an elevator with them?
Was it the bloggers who chime from cyberspace, or the BBWAA members who have been dutifully covering Red Sox games from before the time the Internet existed?
Maybe you're right, Carl. Maybe we're all rotten to the core, but we were not the problem.
It was not the media who gave one of the earliest clues that Crawford and Boston would not work out. In the third game of the 2011 season, Francona dropped his new star from third to seventh in the batting order, a stunning lack of faith that occurred before Crawford had played a single game for his new team at Fenway Park.
Clearly overwhelmed by the expectations that came with his seven-year, $142 million contract, Crawford never got untracked. His first year was such a disappointment that by year's end, he apologized to the fans, an uncommon gesture that was to his credit.
Crawford was evidently hurt by references to his status as quite likely the worst free agent signing in history. I can understand that. Even fantastically paid outfielders have feelings.
He's right about something else, too. He said it was a mistake for him to sign with Boston. Didn't do his homework, as he put it.
What homework? It didn't take a genius to see that coming to Boston from Tampa Bay, where baseball interest lags behind eveything from NASCAR to sunbathing, would be a radical change.
Crawford did it, anyway. Why? Simple - he wanted the money.
When he took the money, he accepted the terms of employment. In Boston, that means intense scrutiny from fans and media - though frankly, I think the media's bloodthirsty reputation is vastly overblown, the result of an outdated legacy and a handful of sharpshooters within the fraternity.
It might sound like I am taking Crawford's criticism personally. Trust me, I'm not.
For one thing, I have never had a bad experience with Carl Crawford, unless waiting endlessly for him to appear in the clubhouse counts. On the contrary, I have found him to be a uniformly decent guy, which makes his long-distance bleating this week so disappointing.
For another thing, as the Springfield member of Red Sox media, I am part of the flock. I put in my hours, do my interviews and so on.
When references are made about the "Boston media,'' though, I am not so vain or naive to think the target is me. What really irritates me is when someone like Crawford looks over a large group of individuals and decides it's tidier to treat them all as one.
That's no better than a writer declaring that all ballplayers are on steroids.
Los Angeles used to be a perfect place for a guy like Crawford, who wants to make a lot of money but without the pressure normally associated with such an arrangement. But Chavez Ravine is no longer safe haven, not after the Dodgers started spending ungodly sums of money trying to buy a World Series title.
He's wrong, too, if he thinks Boston media people love it when players are miserable. Not only does that make our jobs harder and more unpleasant, but we don't care nearly as much as he might think.
We have families, we have jobs, we have to pay the mortgage and so on. If Crawford thinks we all go home and think of how better our lives would be if he were miserable, he's giving his own importance far too much credit.
"That media was the worst thing I've ever experienced in my life,'' Crawford said.
It's not fun doing your work in such a public fashion, especially when things are not going well. But if the Boston media was the worst thing Crawford has ever experienced, he's having a pretty good life.
He is not a bad guy, and maybe LA is the right fit. But I find it interesting that Crawford seemed so bothered by the fact he was treated as a rich, underperforming celebrity, not a human being in a tough line of work.
Understood, but he might want to apply the same rule to others. I realize that nobody wants to hear it, but that's how I feel when people like Crawford gaze at a cast of dozens - even dozens of reviled media types - and treat us all as one, well-packaged for scapegoating from 3,000 miles away.