Sometimes supposed MVP-caliber bats go ice cold, leaving a trail of sad 0's in their wake. Sometimes a hobbled former MVP is left swinging just a tick too slow. Sometimes the Ace is battling injury and pitches like exactly what he's become: a number three guy in the rotation. Sometimes a clutch starter from the '07 playoffs is left warming up in the 'pen, while the lefty specialist is asked to get outs he can't ever be reliably be asked to deliver. Sometimes you leave three runners stranded at a crucial moment late in a tie ballgame. Sometimes you get stuck next to weird guy at the ballgame who, despite being your dad's age, tries to flirt with you and uses the 6 year-old technique of stealing your scorecard, and asks if you know what a backwards 'K' is (while he's not even sure who our starting shortstop is), and kind of smells funny, and oh, did I mention is your dad's age and totally creepy?
Yep, sometimes things like this happen. Sometimes a bloop single can score three runs, and then again sometimes you lose anyway.
But that was yesterday. And today's a whole 'nother day.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Gameday Open Thread: ALDS Game 3
vs. Los Angeles Angels
7:27 pm
Fenway Park - Boston, MA
SP: Josh Beckett vs. Joe Saunders
tv/radio: TBS - MLB.TV - WRKO
The Angels almost beat the Red Sox at their own game, taking pitches and taking walks, then taking our emotions from despair to anticipation and back, then doing it again.
They had us believing. They were down four runs in the first inning, three runs in the fifth inning, two runs in the seventh inning, one run in the eighth.
And then -- holy Scott Spiezio! -- the Angels had tied the game. All even, into the ninth, with their record-setting closer on the mound.
David Ortiz, double. J.D. Drew, home run. Red Sox 7, Angels 5.
Friday's game was grueling, but I was so pumped at the comeback to tie the game tonight that I thought, consciously, that the pain was finally over. I was pain free for about 3 seconds. And then Frankie threw that pitch to J.D. Drew.
Boston swept the Angels in the 2004 and 2007 division series and have defeated the Angels in 11 consecutive playoff games, dating to 1986. In Game 3, Sunday in Boston, the Angels must stay alive against Boston starter Josh Beckett, who has a 6-0career playoff record.
That will require putting together both hitting and pitching, something the Angels have yet to do in this series.
For all my criticism of Boston, their team has been run admirably over the last few years, with an emphasis on player development that stresses OPS over AVG and RISP2 hitting. The Angels have produced seemingly millions of slap-hitting outfielders, and in the American League, few teams are outslugged by the boys in red. Unless Moreno plans on extending the outfield walls to 600 feet away from the plate, the Halos will not win without more power. Too bad Teixeira is leaving.
Now the Angels trail Boston, 2-0, in a division deries that could end Sunday night in Fenway Park. The two have only met in three playoff series since 1986. Really, just three. It just seems like one of those annual ordeals, like April 15, or NFL draft day.
I'm seriously thinking about not renewing my season tickets. I don't use half of them and when they get to the postseason, they roll over and die. This is just an obscenity. Seriously, guys, just take the draft picks for Tex and K-Fraud and rebuild.
Losers. Choke artists. I'm not watching Sunday. There's no point anymore.
Gameday Open Thread: ALDS Game 2
vs. Los Angeles Angels
9:30 pm
Angel Stadium - Anaheim, CA
SP: Daisuke Matsuzaka vs. Ervin Santana
tv/radio: TBS - MLB.TV - WRKO
Boston Sports Media Watch posted yesterday on an interesting observation from Wednesday night's game broadcast on TBS- Chip Carey referring to Dustin Pedroia's nickname as being "Caballito".
Of course, no one around here can remember anyone ever referring to Pedroia as "Caballito," so it has been speculated that someone pulled a fast one on Carey during his preparation for the game, perhaps a Red Sox player, or that maybe even this was an "Anchorman" moment, where Carey was just fed something and he repeated it.
And of course the Herald jumped all over that (without, of course, citing to BSMW as the source of the idea, even though they cribbed even the Anchorman reference straight from BSMW's post):
According to Caray's broadcast partner, Buck Martinez, slugger David Ortiz told him earlier this year that the team's Latin players bestowed the nickname on Pedroia for reasons beyond his size.
"David Ortiz told me that specifically," Martinez said yesterday from his hotel in Anaheim. "He said we call him the little pony because he's got spirit and heart and all of that. He thinks he can do everything. David told me he always tries to beat him to the ballpark and he could never do it. Every time he got there, Pedroia had already eaten breakfast, worked out, read the newspaper, played cards, and was ready to play.
"I love the kid," Martinez added. "He's the epitome of a baseball player. He doesn't take a backseat to anybody. He's a marvelously spirited kid and a hell of a ballplayer. Caballito."
Considering Carlos Lee's nickname is "El Caballo", and David Ortiz has a wicked sense of humor, it's entirely probable - nay, an almost certain probability - that he was pulling Buck Martinez's leg with that faux tidbit. Especially considering the "nickname" (or fauxname) had Dustin and Alex Cora cracking up at the ridiculousness of it all.
But Buck Martinez isn't going to even consider the possibility that he was duped:
Pedroia seemed extremely good natured about it, whether or not it's true. For his part, Martinez did not believe Ortiz had lied to him.
"Pedroia's a horse, there's no question about that," Martinez said. "We take a lot of pride in the way we present games. We want to tell the fans something they don't know about their hometown team and we did that last night."
One: Papi didn't "lie" to Buck, he was joking with him. The fact that Buck is unable to tell when someone is joking, and doesn't bother to fact-check stuff like that before announcing it on air is his own fault.
And two: well isn't someone awfully full of themself? "We want to tell the fans something they don't know about their hometown team and we did that last night." Doesn't the smarm and arrogance just ooze off the page with that quote?
Edit: because commenter Liza is a genius.
My Little Pony
For the Sox fanatic in your life who has everything, how about a $200 custom-designed one-of-a-kind My Little Pony? As part of Hasbro's My Little Pony Project promotional event, one... ah... lucky person got to design a commemorative one-off pony. And since the winner was Jessica Halley (26) of Somerville, MA, she put her pony in Red Sox.
Good news is: the money goes to charity. Bad news is: there was only one, and it's already sold. Sorry. Looks like you'll have to get your adult toys (ahem) somewhere else.
Hat tip: reader Kelly for the link!
Obligatory Post
There is a subject I've quite obviously refused to address here for some time now: Manny Ramirez. There are two reasons for that.
One, he doesn't play for the team anymore, and so once I gave him his sendoff back at the beginning of August, it was time to move on. It is unhealthy and unproductive to fixate on a ballplayer who no longer plays for Boston, and my time and energy is much better spent focusing on the guys who actually play for my team.
But, more realistically, the second reason is plain fatigue. I'm sick of listening to bitter windbags piss on him like a criminal, or fanboys revere him like some kind of untouchable saint. He was neither. I'm sick of the incessant need to dissect his every move, every word, every gesture. Sick of the tendency to blow everything he does (or doesn't do) out of proportion. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.
I will never be sick of Manny. I will never tire of watching him go bonkers at the plate. I will always adore Manny for who he was and what he meant to this town and this team. But I am not an idiot and so I also recognize that he (like every other human on the planet) is fallible and made his share of mistakes. However, he is gone, so until the day this place is converted to a Dodgers blog (won't happen), I'm not going to feed the beast and fan the flames by engaging in some kind of ongoing dialogue about Manny minutiae.
Unless we play the Dodgers in the World Series. Then all bets are off.
What They're Saying: ALDS Game 1
A sample smattering of chatter about the Sox from the guys on the other side of the field.
It took the Angels six months to earn home-field advantage, three hours to lose it. It took the Angels six months to win 100 games, three hours to turn their next game into a must-win.
It took the Angels six months to build themselves into World Series favorites, with Mark Teixeira and an offense fortified for October, three hours to resurrect all those nagging questions, to remind us good pitching alone cannot beat good hitting.
John Lackey was great. Garret Anderson had the audacity of hope. Darren Oliver was great. Torii Hunter was great. Teixeira was okay. Scot Shields was terrible. Vlad was October Vlad but will suffer the biggest criticisms while it was Howie Kendrick choking that cost us this game.
The Angels have dug themselves a hole, so we will now see if they are as resilient and competent as the 2002 Halo squad
I do give them props for calling us "Chowds", mostly because that's what my Dad - a Mickey Mantle fan and Yankee supporter - calls me.
Armed with the homefield advantage in the ALDivisional Series on Wednesday night, the Red Sox limping into Anaheim like wounded revolutionary soldiers with drums, fifes and flags, and Manny Ramirez safely relocated to the Dodgers, the Angels again assumed the position against their nemesis.
They dropped a 4-1 decision in front of 44,996. It was 2-1 into the ninth, which sounds like a taut game, but the word has more to do with the way the Angels' collars bunch whenever they see New England's finest.
As disappointing as last night's game was, it was made worse by having to listen to TBS's broadcasting team of Chip Carey and Buck Martinez's game-long, incessant verbal suck job of the Red Sox team. It was ridiculous as to how much time they spent going on and on about Lester, Ortiz, Ellsbury, et.al.
I find that quote particularly hilarious, given that every Sox fan I talked to thought the announcers were heavily biased in favor of the Angels. At least both sides can agree that they sucked.
I shouldn't have to root for a god damned hit by pitch in the bottom of the ninth to get the tying run to the plate. Papelbon throws straight fastballs. Mike Lowell is hurt. Try bunting for a base hit. Play Angels baseball. For some reason, every time October rolls around, Scioscia thinks he's managing the Yankees and stops doing the little things that make him a good manager and his team fundamentally sound during the regular season.
The excruciating sameness of this game compared to the 2007 or 2005 (against the White Sox anyway) or 2004 postseasons was just numbing. True, the Angels went through so much this year, beating the Red Sox in the regular season both soundly and reliably, and yet when all was said and done, the Angels really didn't have an answer different from those other postseasons.
Welcome to the Blogosphere, Jacoby
MLB must've decided last year's player playoffs blogs were so awesome, that they've forced given a player on each team the opportunity to "write" one. And Boston's lucky short-end stick-drawer selectee is Jacoby Ellsbury.
I have a sneaking suspicion that much like Sean Casey doesn't write his blog posts at WEEI (though clearly the videos are all his work), Jacoby doesn't actually write the posts over at his blog. More likely he "writes" them by telling some lackey at MLBlogs generally what he wants the post to say, or gives the lackey a quick phone call to answer some interview questions - and the lackey then feeds that into the RoboAthleteClicheGenerator3000 to spit out generic prose about the game.
The tell-tale giveaway? RACG3000 left in a tiny little tidbit that indicates it was taking dictation from Jacoby, not written by Jacoby himself:
One reporter was asking me after the game what my speed was in track. I told him my split time in college one time at Oregon State, running the 60. was 4-2. That's not official. But put that in there. It might have been 4-1, I don't know. I love to run the bases though. It puts a little stress on the defense.
If Jacoby was penning the posts himself, I somehow doubt he'd need to remind himself to include that certain factual tidbit.... he'd just include it. I'm betting MLBlog lackey forgot to remove that request notation from Jacoby in the writeup.
It's still a fun read, though-- because even though Jacoby surely doesn't go back to his hotel at night after a late game and crank out posts on his laptop, the thoughts behind the actual writing are his. I thought this was an interesting look at fielding:
Did I think I was going to catch it? To be honest, no. I came in running full speed, and I kind of glanced down at shortstop Jed Lowrie, thinking maybe he had a shot at it, hoping he had a shot at it. I just kind of kept my head down and went for it and felt like I kind of kicked in a different gear midway through that.
You're just hoping to get there. I'm kind of peeking at Lowrie and making sure we don't collide. It's loud out there, it's the playoffs. Even if someone calls for it, you're probably not going to hear him, so you just have to be aware of where he's at. It ended up being a big out.
I really don't get too fired up about diving catches, but I was pretty fired up about that one. Late in the game like that, playoff time. First out of the inning. You kind of want to kill a potential rally. I've made some nice catches this year, but this one was definitely my favorite one of the year.
I was just hoping my arm could reach out long enough. I didn't know if I had enough reach in my glove, but I made it. I looked at it for a second and I had it, so I just made sure to secure it.
Game 1: Haiku
Game 1 in the books
Lester working out of jams
Throwing gas all night.
Though there were issues
Mike and JD went 0-fer
Lowrie makes an E?
Bay's 2-run homer
Turned the tide for the Red Sox
Put Boston on top
But baseball boyfriend
Has to be Jacoby E
Look out, world - he's back.
Gameday Open Thread: ALDS Game 1
vs. Los Angeles Angels
10:00 pm
Angel Stadium - Anaheim, CA
SP: Jon Lester vs. John Lackey
tv/radio: TBS - MLB.TV - WRKO
So everyone got MEGApumped this morning, but now it's closing in on time for the playoff games to start... which means it's time to get UBERMEGApumped. I've been in a quandry on just how to go about doing that. I had a Soundtrack to the Championship playlist last season, chock full of songs I used to get myself hyped throughout the 2007 playoffs. But this is 2008. 2007's playlist won't work.
So I put out the call to two sports-crazed women, who also happen to have a knack for putting together a killer song mix. I asked them to compile a Playoff Playlist - songs to kick ass and take names to in 2008. And sweet Jesus did they ever come through. So below are their specially mixed playlists from the East coast (Janie down in the dirty South, Tampa) and West coast (Holly over in the sunshine of Los Angeles).
Problem solved! Kick back, crank up these playlists, and get ready to be UBERMEGApumped for the Halos.
Holly's I Hope You Massholes Like Electronica Mix
Holly is a certified college football aficionado (you can find her work EDSBS and Yahoo and also general hilarity at her place), but she's been dipping her toes into the beautiful waters of baseball fandom. Her baseball team is the Red Sox, but her NFL loyalties lie with the Colts and Mr. Manning... so now all of y'all will not be able to decide whether you love her or despise her. I think after hearing this mix, it'll be the former.
Janie's Homery Hype Mix
Janie may be a Rays fan (seriously! there are Rays fans!), but I had to make sure she was a part of this because her music expertise is unparalleled. You can find her spreading the joy of hot beats and cool music over at her place. She couldn't resist including a few Rays-centric tracks on her playlist -- but everyone should be thankful she spared you the horror of Kevin Costner. See? She does love you Sox fans.
And now, a word from Janie...
Texy, I'm sorry. I could withstand the temptation to include the Kevin Costner-penned drivel, but you had to know this would happen. I'm sure there are not, in fact, any Rays fans here, so the rest of you please chalk this horrific Top Three up to the unbridled enthusiasm of someone who has not, in fact, been there before. Aren't we cute down here with our shiny new toy? Lemme get a hand clap for the Tampa Bay Rays!
Lord, is there a local rapper NOT involved in a Rays song right now? (Actually, yes. And if I know one thing, it's that our girl Khia could have written something much better than ol' Robin Hood did.) The Theme Song is questionable, but I'll be darned if It's Our Season isn't pretty catchy. Trop Boys wins the top spot by virtue of being only a few days old and not run into the ground by all the blogs laughing at our homemade videos and bizarro stadium. At any rate, it's hype time. Let's goooooooooooooooooooo!
Bonus #1: Rays Tracks! Ed. note: these two files are in .wma format, and so couldn't be included in the player- but I'm including them as bonus downloads, even though they're Rays songs... because they're catchy, darn it! 02. It's Our Season 03. Rays Theme Song
Bonus #2: Liner Notes from Janie!
06. Metallica | Sad But True | Metallica | 1992
I know, I know: it's so over-used. But it's also deliciously crunchy and hateful: the perfect spite song. If only the Yankees were still in the race...
07. Embrace | Ashes | Out of Nothing | 2004
This is normally the sort of song I'd disavow: it reads like a tenth grade girl's diary and the guy sounds like Chris Martin trying on a man suit. However, when your team's got its back against the wall, and all rhyme or reason says they can't pull it out, watch them riiiiiiiiise up and leave all the ashes you made out of meeeeeeeeeeee (er, them. You get the picture).
08. Joy Division | Something Must Break | Still | 1981
Damn right, something must break...THE COLLECTIVE WILL OF OUR OPPONENTS. For the post-punk post-season fan.
09. Rendard w/ No Regard and Ced What | How Hard Can You Throw | Going For Gold | 1989
No, they probably aren't talking about baseball. But the question still stands.
10. Cobra Krames | What More Time | Cracker Jackin' EP
Don't be scared, whities. It's just a Baltimore Club remix of Daft Punk's perennial New Year's favorite. If you listen to it at 10am on a Wednesday, you're not gonna get it. Suppose, though, that your boys win big and they're throwing champagne all over each other in a locker room scene straight out of a Roman bath - and you're drunk with your own bottle in the living room, having just single-handedly caused their victory with a season's worth of fretting and pulling, and this comes blaring on your living room soundsystem: you're not gonna be still. You're gonna give in, and probably trip and hurt yourself on the coffee table, but this is the sound of celebration.
What better time to pull out the video we used to pump ourselves up on Opening Day, than today... and now we can use it to get ourselves MEGApumped for the ALDS.
video courtesy of NESN
And that ain't it, kiddies. I've got another MEGApumped treat coming your way a little later. It's so awesome, it might even get you UBERMEGApumped.
It's time.
Rejection.
You know, I'm starting to think this is personal.
After receiving three rounds of these rejection emails last year, two (so far) this year, and never making it out of a single virtual waiting room for the last bajillion years, I'm starting to think the Red Sox have something against me. Except that I'm on their Christmas card list! And they won last year with me at the games!
There's only one way to make this up to me, Red Sox: season tickets. Or another world championship. Or both.
The Overly-Curious UnDoctor: Josh Beckett
The Overly-Curious UnDoctor Is In!
This week's subject: Josh Beckett
With the constant stream of bumps, bruises, owies and ouchies that the Red Sox encounter, it can all get a bit confusing for us non-medical types. What's just a minor scrape that's nothing to worry about? And what's a severe four-alarm injury that warrants a true freakout?
That's where our resident health professional, mhcranberry, MPH, is here to help. She'll be stopping by on occasion to give you all the nitty gritty on the Sox DL.
We thought we'd just be having to deal with the J.D. Drew and Mike Lowell ouchies in the playoffs... but we were wrong. Turns out Josh Beckett is fighting injury as well. Oh shit. Please, Overly-Curious UnDoctor, tame our fears about Beckett's strained oblique!
Follow me after the jump for all the questions you have but were afraid to ask...
Even though the article retreads (again) for the thousandth time the old "Dustin Pedroia sure is short! But he's a grinder!" storyline, it contains possibly the greatest lead-in story ever:
The boy was barely out of diapers when he discovered a tiny wooden bat and started swinging at everything that moved: tennis balls, ping-pong balls, balls of tinfoil.
Then came a baby goose.
By the time Debbie Pedroia rushed to the scene, it was too late. The family's new pet had bobbed its fuzzy head into her 18-month-old son's strike zone, and baby Dustin had swung the little bat as if his life depended on it.
Yet even Pedroia's parents were stunned during their son's first team meeting with [Pat] Murphy, [Arizona State head coach]. As the coach reminded the players that no individual was more important than the team, Pedroia interrupted.
"I got to be honest, coach," he said. "You're going to win a lot more games with me than without me."
And this one:
As a child, Dustin believed he could beat his tough-talking grandfather, Bo Pedroia, at cribbage. Long before Dustin trash-talked his way into a running cribbage duel with Francona, he was wisecracking with Grandpa Bo. Or skirmishing with Brett under their basketball hoop. Or picking apart opponents at ping-pong.
Pedroia's ping-pong victims include Cleveland Browns quarterback Brady Quinn, whom Pedroia baited into a match last year at the Athletes' Performance Institute in Arizona. Never mind that Quinn, a rugged 6-foot-3 and 235 pounds, towered over him.
"You want a piece of me, meat?" Pedroia said.
Ethier, who witnessed the scene, said, "Dustin was talking smack to him the whole time, talking about how he would sack Brady and put him on his back. Dustin absolutely destroyed him, and Brady couldn't stand losing to someone who is 5-foot-something. It was pretty incredible."
Now we know where the cribbage obsession came from.
ESPN Freak Factor Increases 100%
Look, I'm not afraid to admit it: Stephen King is my favorite author of all time. I realize I should claim Flannery O'Connor or James Joyce or F. Scott Fitzgerald or something, but I don't- it's the Mainer and resident New England freakshow (and I say that with all love) Mr. King.
It's just a bonus that he's a massive Red Sox fan. (see here and here for examples.)
So I was quite geekily thrilled to see Mr. King pop up in the latest ESPN Sportscenter commercial, which starts airing today - complete with his Sox cap, his old school typewriter and his ever-present wild imagination. It's also a nice treat on a rainy Monday morning.
Of course, everyone knows "clutch hitting" is just about as real as "demonic possession" or "telekinesis".
"Strained oblique" are exactly the wrong words you want to hear about this guy leading into the ALDS.
Josh Beckett, per Tito Francona, is still pencilled in to get the ball to start Game 3 against the Angels back here at Fenway (Jon Lester will take Game 1 and Daisuke Matsuzaka will take Game 2 in Anaheim)... but that's before they've finished evaluating Beckett. The next few days should give a better idea if that start schedule can go from written in pencil to something more definite.
Gameday Open Thread: Yankees 9/28
vs. New York Yankees
7:35 pm
Fenway Park - Boston, MA
SP: Tim Wakefield vs. Sidney Ponson
tv/radio: NESN - MLB.TV - WRKO
I'm headed out to Fenway now, kiddies, so you're getting the GDOT early today. Hope everyone's sobered up from their clinching celebration hangovers - we'll see if the Sox are...
vs. Cleveland Indians
7:05 pm
Fenway Park - Boston, MA
SP: Paul Byrd vs. Fausto Carmona
tv/radio: NESN - MLB.TV - WRKO
Everyone who made it to the playoffs from the AL East, step forward.
Not so fast, Yankees...
Clinched: This Is 2008
Some celebrated with many.
Some celebrated alone.
But they all celebrated... together. As a team.
This is 2008. This is not 2007 or 2004. This team is not the goofy collection of misfits and cowboys from 4 years ago. And despite the many familiar faces, this team is not a carbon copy of the team a year ago.
It seemed natural enough last year to try and compare the (basically incomparable) teams from those championship years... but it's time to stop the comparisons. To stop judging the team's success in 2008 based on the sentimentally insurmountable yardsticks used in 2007 and 2004. To stop agonizing over former long-haired and/or dreadlocked players who have departed for coasts near and far. To stop bemoaning "just making it in the playoffs", and acting lethargic over anything short of total domination. Because this 2008 team is never going to be the 2007 or 2004 team.
We wrapped ourselves in a cocoon during the offseason, when everything seemed to be falling into place for an easy path with a near-identical cast of characters. Like we'd be able to slip right back into another year like an old comfy pair of slippers. But injuries, rookies, more injuries and Scott Boras have shaped the Sox into an entirely different group of men. This year's team has its own identity- strangely familiar but yet oddly exotic. And if the hand they are dealt means they have to scrap to bring home the hardware (instead of coasting to the top)... by golly, that's what they're gonna do.
When the champagne flowed like cheap beer, and the cheap beer flowed like champagne. When no person was safe from getting drenched with one or the other -- except, apparently, Tito. When Heidi Watney poses inane questions to progressively less-sober ballplayers. When Jonathan Papelbon steals ballpark property and hands it out like party souvenirs. When an army of baby Sox were let loose on the Fenway turf. When even Billy the Bullpen Cop got to cut loose.
Quote of the night:
Josh Beckett (to Mike Lowell): That cigar makes you smell like a hamster.
Mike Lowell: Well, I've been called worse things, so I take that as a compliment. But, as long as Josh can pitch and not curse in the dugout, we'll be fine.
FANTASTIC.
Part 1: The tarp-covered locker room, the bullpen cop gets his, Papelbon sprays the Fenway crowd, Coco Crisp and Big Papi get interviewed.
video courtesy of NESN
Lots more video -- parts 2, 3 & 4 -- after the jump!
And a special fond farewell to the Yankees. It was a pleasure eliminating you.
Clinched: Mayor & Mast Get Crazy
Only Sean Casey would make sure and snag Justin Masterson to capture a Top 5 Playoff Clinching Moments List on camera in the middle of an insane clubhouse.
Was that David Aardsma who blew cigar smoke across the lens of the camera?
Clinched.
Gameday Open Thread: Indians 9/23
vs. Cleveland Indians
7:05 pm
Fenway Park - Boston, MA
tv/radio: NESN - MLB.TV - WRKO
