What They’re Saying: ALDS Game 3

A sample smattering of chatter about the Sox from the guys on the other side of the field.

Who was that dressed Sunday in Josh Beckett’s uniform?

Considering that Beckett was a shell of himself in Game 3, Mike Lowell can hardly move without wincing and American League most-valuable-player candidate Dustin Pedroia is still looking for his first hit, it’s a wonder the Red Sox lead the series.

The only reason for Red Sox fans to celebrate early this morning was that, for the first time in the series, a game ended before 1 a.m. EDT.

Halos Heaven:

I thought we were dead when that pop-up dropped and this may be it, and if it is, it is slightly sweet, knowing that Chowd nation will all be late for work, or find out about the Angels win at work and have to rearrange their useless northeastern ice and sleet lives to see the game that will start late so that TBS can have ratings dollars from the well-tanned and rested west coast fans.

It would be nice to win tonight, it was nice to win last night, in the cold, wet Boston morning. Our faith has been restored, but even with their backs against the wall, John Lackey is the man you want to have on the mound and the pressure is where you want right where it is: on Team Lovable Nation. You know, the team that swaggered with a 3-run pop-up; the team that couldn’t wipe its a s s with the bases loaded against Francisco Rodriguez; the team that bowed and said “yes, master” to Jered Weaver in his first-ever relief appearance; the team that held Paul Byrd back in the pen.

Daily News:

It was the laziest of popups that threatened to eat at the Angels until spring training.

When Howie Kendrick and Torii Hunter let a second-inning pop fly from Jacoby Ellsbury fall untouched on the outfield grass in shallow center field, playoff history was made.

Instead of being the final out of the inning, the popup instead cleared the bases and put the Red Sox in the lead in a game they needed to win to advance to the American League Championship Series. Never before in the playoffs had a single allowed three runs to score.

OC Register:

Put the game plan in the shredder and spend five hours and 19 minutes on the edge. That, apparently, is how you beat the Red Sox, 5-4 in 12 innings. The Angels now trail by two games to one, but their self-esteem is at .500, at least.

You know what they say. The 101st victory is the toughest.

In Play, No Outs:

I was joking with the people around me during the 11th inning that “neither team wants to win this game.” But the Angels did. This win is a hallmark of successful Angels baseball, and for that, bravo, boys.

6-4-2:

Yet despite the confusion, despite the impressive string of stupid plays that the Angels seem to invent every time the face Boston in the postseason, they were saved by a pair of home runs by Mike Napoli, who stood alone among the Halos as doing almost everything right; indeed, it was his leadoff single in the 12th that Aybar (the forgotten man in the Angels’ second inning trio of suck) eventually got him home from second on an RBI single.

The best, though, is the inanity of those LA sports writers and fans who try to dream up some sort of curse for the Angels. Seriously.

Yes, poor, poor Angels. God knows how they’ve survived not winning a World Series since… 5 years ago. Lord only knows the pain it must cause them not to have won a playoff game (before last night) since… 2005. How shitty life must be not to have won the division since… this year! And also last year! They really are suffering under a cursed sign. Please, Angels fans, I implore you: go bitch about your “curse” to the Pirates. Or the Indians. Or the Royals. Or the Brewers. OR THE CUBS.

Look, losing isn’t fun. Folks in this town know plenty about that. But you are not allowed to call a few years of playoff failure a “curse”. Ever. Go 100+ years without a World Series victory, and then we can talk.