Is there any question that Terry Francona will get the loudest ovation at Fenway Park on Friday?

Think about it: The 100-year-old dump (and I do use that word lovingly -- it's almost incomprehensibly antiquated and should have been blown up 20 years ago but I sympathize with the Doris Kearns Goodwin crowd and have as many swell memories of Fenway as every other guy) will be lousy with legends and Hall of Famers. Pedro, Yaz, Pesky, Fisk, Rice, Dewey, Eck and plenty of contributors to the 2004 and 2007 World Series winners. If we can put aside the grape juice toast and all the other Dr. Charles overkill stuff there is no question it will be an emotional (and terrific) pregame ceremony, neat theatre. 

But the most anticipated moment of an event that has been in the planning stages for years -- and has cost ownership millions of dollars; you think it's cheap to fly in Gary Allenson and Izzy Alcantara? -- is the return of a man who watched over the greatest collapse in baseball history just seven months ago. 

How does that happen? 

Well, let's start with the obvious. Forgetting last September, this is the most successful Red Sox manger of all time. Two World Series titles, 8-0 World Series record, averaged 93 wins a year, the perfect guy at the perfect time. Maybe they win in 2004 and 2007 with Joe Maddon or Bobby Valentine or even Grady Little in charge, I suppose, but Francona actually pulled it off. And with those accomplishments comes great affection that will never diminish.

So there's that. But we know there is more there, right? The enormous cheers for Francona will also mean something else -- the first real opportunity for the fans to let John Henry and Larry Lucchino know how they felt about the hideous way the firing of Francona was handled and all that has happened since.

And, yes, it was a firing. 

Let's recap: Henry and Lucchino (and Theo Epstein, who is getting a free pass an awful lot around here lately) decided not to bring Francona back after last season. Agree or disagree, it was a perfectly reasonable choice and of course their right. You spend $400 million over the last three years and get zero playoff wins, a collapse to end all collapses and serious clubhouse issues, a change is absolutely worthy of discussion. But, terrified of looking like the bad guys, they trotted Francona out and let him spin the "mutual decision" angle. In most organizations that would be that. New manager, time to move on, thanks for the memories, the usual third act.

But not in the land of Lucchino. Turns out that Francona won that PR battle, folks knew that ownership tried to push one by them. Instead of being honest, just admitting they didn't want him back, they sent him out to dance in front of the media and try and sell something that didn't come close to passing the smell test. No guts from Henry and Lucchino there.

So a couple of weeks later Bob Hohler writes a story …

Look, I have no idea -- none -- if Lucchino or Henry was a source. We all have theories and I think we all believe that there was more than one source, but go and read that story again. Players look bad, Theo looks bad and Francona was smeared to a level that bordered on disgusting. Ownership? Turns out they didn't want to sign Carl Crawford and handed out headphones at a party on a boat. Very curious stuff, and the guys who paid the bills come out looking pretty, pretty good. Except this: the fans -- not as dumb as some might think -- smelled another rat, put the pieces together and came to an almost unanimous conclusion as to who helped Hohler out. 

And if Henry or Lucchino weren't the source, wouldn't you expect them to do everything in their not inconsiderable powers to find out who was? Why would anyone want an employee to be treated this way? Unless I missed it, Henry and Lucchino haven't been banging down any doors lately. Francona seemed curious to find out, he called Henry numerous times over five months for some explanation and never received a response. Again, that's how you treat someone who helped you win two World Series? 

And now we've had the 100th anniversary circus over the last week, which has included details of Lucchino getting angry at Francona for not wanting to attend. That falls squarely in the Historical Arrogance category, of course, and gave the fans another reason to wonder if ownership had any clue when it comes to plain old common courtesy. 

And all that -- plus a 4-8 start, plus a manager off to a disastrous on- and off-field beginning -- is why Yaz and his Triple Crown and MVP and 3,000 hits and Johnny Pesky and his 60 years in the organization and Pedro and the two greatest seasons by any pitcher in history will battle for silver medal in the ovation competition to Terry Francona.  

Who, it must be noted, should still be the manager of the Red Sox. 

This isn't a knock on Bobby Valentine, but Francona is simply a better manager for this team. There's plenty of sample size to come to that conclusion on both ends. I understand what happened last year and that's a very real concern, but does anyone get a sense that Valentine has dramatically altered the culture? If the Red Sox had figured out a way to land Maddon or even John Farrell (who they really wanted) I would have been fine with moving on. But Bobby Valentine was hired because a) he was cheap, b) he would provide a boost for NESN (think "The Gene Lamont Show" would have happened?) and c) Lucchino wanted him. They didn't get the best guy for the job, they got the guy who fit what they wanted at the right price.

And you get what you pay for and reap what you sow.