Sunday, October 17, 2004
I have no explanation for this. None. Two nights ago our pitching was OK (although not stellar) and our offense managed to whimper into a pitiful demise. Tonight our offense started working (although not in an entirely stellar fashion), and our pitching coughed up the mother of all hairballs.
I mean. 19 to 8? 19? To 8? 8 is a respectable number of hits in a baseball game. But... 19? Sheffield, Matsui, et. al. (I can't even bring myself to say the names of The Worst Two) are good, no one's going to deny this, but 19 runs AT FENWAY is just a bit too much of a HUGE FUCKING SOUR PILL for me swallow, OK? Arroyo coming out in the third? What was that? Why and how did that happen? Wakefield having to come in and pitch after Ramiro Mendoza waved a white hankie to his former teammates and Curt Lets-panic flipped his hair over his face in embarassment? What was that again?
We had Austin Powers in there too, huh? I'll bet we were dumb and had him pitching to righties. I wouldn't know, I started seeing everything in a haze of pain after a while, which meant not much seeing at all. I think I caught a little Embree at some point, but really I stopped keeping track after Wakefield trotted out. I guess I understand the necessity of stopping the bleeding, but... Wake was going to be our starter. Tomorrow. Even a knuckler can't throw what is essentially an entire game in 'relief' and then go out and pitch the very next night.
Which brings in Dearborn native (that should interest you Michigan readers) Derek Lowe. Starting. In Game 4. Which, if we do not win, ends our season. I may have mentioned my thoughts on Derek Lowe in previous blogs. He has but one chance to redeem himself. Ideally, if he had to be starting at all it would be at Fenway, with a few wins behind him and an upbeat team with infinite confidence in their own ability to hit around him, maybe against the Twins. As things stand for tomorrow night.... well. It'll be at Fenway. He's going to have to make of that what he can. He'll be going up against El Duckie, he of the Mysterious Shoulder Twinges, so who knows. Maybe Lowe can get a little of the inexplicable Detroit Lions suddenly-saying-this-is-the-year-isn't-so-mad karma (I hear he's a fan) and scrape together a win.
By the by, maybe someone could explain to me why El Duckie's MLB.com headshot looks like it was shot as an elementary school portrait, as opposed to everyone else's, which just look like license photos (i.e. stark backgrounds and the most awkward facial expressions ever).
Technically speaking, if we win 4 straight we can still beat this team. We have to start with one win tomorrow. It's looking difficult, at best. And eventually we'd have to go back to The Toilet, where I am not at all sanguine about our chances.
“What can I say -- just tip my hat and call the Yankees my daddy? I can't find a way to beat them at this point. ... They're that good.”
Thank you, Pedro, for these words. Remember when our season made a turn for the better? For whatever reason, connected or not, it was right after Varitek planted his mitt in A-Rod’s face. Any guesses as to when our season took a turn for the worse?*
*And before people jump all over me and rail about all the games they won between that series and this one: I am a blogger. I can make bogus, unsubstantiated claims in a fit of extreme baseball-induced bitterness if I want to, OK?
1:55 AM
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