So, Ben Cherington and John Henry aren't in Seattle to fire Bobby Valentine. It's a "fact-finding" mission the owner is on, we are told. How much evidence, exactly, does one man need?

OK. I'll be honest, I have no idea why Valentine is still managing this team. There is literally nothing to gain, no benefit for Valentine or any player on the roster. We all know it's not all his fault, we all know about the injuries, the lousy starting pitching (I'm starting to think it might not be all Bob McClure and Curt Young's fault) and we know all about the sense of entitlement that existed in that clubhouse when Valentine was hired. 

But what has Valentine done to earn another season? Players have underperformed under his watch, the lack of communication is almost historic, and there is a very real chance that he is going to lose 90 games this season. If Terry Francona lost his job after winning 92 games (with a resume that included two World Series) how can bringing Valentine back after losing 90-plus games and failing spectacularly at solving in-house dysfunction make any sense?   

It's obvious we have arrived at "when" not "if" with Bobby Valentine in Boston. If it doesn't happen in Seattle this week or sometime during the last month of this miserable season, it will happen hours after Game 162. 

The justification for keeping Valentine in his job eludes me. I suspect it's only an attempt by ownership to appear not to be giving in to players, which is of course a titanically stupid line of thought. Letting perception enter the process is part of the reason this franchise is where it is. If you don't think Valentine is the right guy for the job, fire him. If you do it now or on Oct. 4 it will do nothing to change the perception that ownership is only ruthless in its endless enabling and coddling of these players. 

So that's why Valentine probably will spend the last month of the 2012 season in uniform. It's a moronic reason, but I suppose it passes for a reason.

If Henry -- not exactly a hell of a bloodhound, if we are to believe he didn't know all he claims not to know about the 2011 and 2012 Red Sox clubhouse activities -- wants to make this fact-finding exercise worthwhile, if he truly wants to hold the players accountable for this mess, he still has an opportunity to do it on this road trip.

Release Alfredo Aceves.

Don't suspend him for three games again, don't even suspend him for the rest of the season, with the hope that a new manager might mean a better-behaved Aceves. Just get rid of him. 

I'm stunned that Valentine is still managing this team, but equally shocked that Aceves wasn't gone after Saturday night. The on-field stuff -- barreling in front of Jarrod Saltalamacchia to drop a foul popup, the three pickoff throws to a clearly confused Dustin Pedroia -- was bizarre enough on its own. But between innings, Aceves and Pedroia got into a fairly testy argument that led to third-base coach Jerry Royster separating the two players. 

Valentine, who stood to the side during the argument, attempted to talk to Aceves after the altercation was over. Aceves slapped Valentine's hand away, then gestured for him to go over to the other side of the dugout. A blatant, screaming sign of disrespect.

On its own, maybe not a big deal. You could even argue that Pedroia was the instigator of the argument, at the very least he seemed the more heated of the two. But here's the problem: This all happened eight days after Aceves was suspended three games for busting into Valentine's office (after tearing off his jersey on his way from the bullpen to the clubhouse) and going off on the manager for having the audacity to give Andrew Bailey -- who was acquired by the Red Sox to to be the closer -- a save opportunity.

Understand this: At the time, Aceves had an ERA of 10.24 in nine August appearances and had just allowed six hits and five runs the night before. And this isn't Mariano Rivera we are talking about, of course, Aceves was the closer only because of an injury to Bailey. So with Bailey back and Aceves struggling, it made all the baseball sense in the world to give Bailey the ninth inning on Aug. 24. 

Everyone understood that except Aceves. Which is OK, it really is. He thinks he's done his job as closer, is understandably territorial. Aceves can be pissed, but what he can't do is verbally attack his manager and demand a meeting with his general manager, who was sort of busy working on the biggest trade in franchise history at the time.

The three-game suspension was for "conduct detrimental to the team," which is exactly right. Aceves was forced to (pause for horror) fly commercial to Anaheim to meet the team after the suspension. 

This should have been a zero-tolerance situation, no room for another outburst or public display of disrespect to his teammates or manager. If losing his job as closer wasn't properly articulated to Aceves at the time -- which is still no excuse for his actions but also a likely reality given the communication woes -- this should have been.

Aceves, as far as we know, took so much personal inventory from the suspension that he lasted eight days before showing up his manager, eight days before committing another mutinous act, eight days before performing more conduct detrimental to the team.

Look, Aceves clearly doesn't like Valentine and isn't going to go along with the charade for the next 30 days. Clear thinking would suggest that Aceves should be angry only with himself -- Valentine fought for Aceves to have the closer role and Aceves ultimately hasn't done the job -- but I'm not sure Aceves is exactly a clear and reasoned thinker. 

If John Henry and Ben Cherington are serious about cleaning up the clubhouse, Aceves should have been gone 15 minutes after the game last Saturday. If John Henry and Ben Cherington are serious about Bobby Valentine being the manager for the rest of the season, how can Aceves still be on the roster, still be in the clubhouse every day? 

But he is. And however you might feel about Valentine, you can't like the terrible message it sends: The players run the ship. Trading Josh Beckett wasn't because of his attitude, it was because of his salary and a miracle from the Dodgers. He'd still be here if Adrian Gonzalez wasn't desperately coveted by Los Angeles. I can't help but believe that ownership still thinks the players aren't really to blame, that the media and fans don't really get it.

And the presence of Aceves -- part of the problem and not part of the solution -- does nothing to dissuade me of that notion. Does anyone really think that another manager won't run into the same problems if Aceves isn't happy next year? I've heard time and time again that purging the poison of the clubhouse is a must, and here is actual proof of it. So, why is he still here?

Sounds like a case for Detective John Henry.