Thanks to our friends over at WeeklyDig for spot-on scouting predictions:
I suspect that Lackey will have a decent game tonight notwithstanding, but I also expect to see Torii “Dogface” Hunter come up short when it counts – like he always does.
John “Cursing Maniac” Lackey and Jared “Remember My Brother?” Weaver just can’t stack up to Jon “Your Line Drive Means Nothing Compared to Cancer” Lester and Josh “I Beat NYC in NYC after 9/11” Beckett.
Hey, we’ve all been there.
Thursday’s Sox/Angels game was just something to do before my own playoff nausea resumes its post in my gut on Friday afternoon. But meaningless or not, I couldn’t help but default to fandom factory settings.
Show me a Yankee fan who was honestly rooting for the Anaheim Angels to lose to the Red Sox, and I’ll show you someone who has a lot of personal issues he needs to work out before he can hope to become a functioning member of society. That, or I’ll show you bookie.
Yeah, it was an enemy of my enemy is my friend deal. I’m not proud, but it is what it is.
As I was getting home from work, my doorman gives me the nod. “So what is it? Boston or Angels?”
“C’mon, man. Angels.”
“If I were you, I’d be upstairs making some I Heart Jason Bay posters.”
Not that there weren’t valid reasons against my doorman being me prior to this, but that statement of his officially precludes him from ever doing some kind of brain transference process. I don’t care what the circumstances are, there is absolutely never a time when I can in sound mind support the Red Sox.
A number of New York fans have been bringing up the point that an ALCS with the Red Sox is much more palatable than one with the Halos.
You know what else is palatable? NOT LOSING IN THE FIRST ROUND AND CONSEQUENTLY MAKING THIS ENTIRE DISCUSSION GALATICALLY MOOT.
The Yankees have hardly won anything yet, and until they do, I’m not forfeiting an entire belief set based solely on a hypothetical playoff matchup.
‘Sides, even if I assumed the Yanks were going to make it that far, I still wouldn’t want the Sox to meet us there. As my sis said today, “A regular season Yanks-Sux weekend series? Awesome. A postseason one? Want no part of it.”
What kind of world would we be living in if there are Yankee fans out there who publicly subscribed to Boston advocacy? I don’t care if the Sox are contractually obligated to lose the ALCS if they happen to meet the Yanks there. I still wouldn’t be able to root for them in the ALDS.
So when the Halos carved up the douchebags from Beantown on Thursday night, I was more satisifed than if it had been the opposite. Jon Lester went up against John Lackey, and the 2 aces battled it out for 4 1/2 innings before Torii Hunter hit a 3-run blast to break the game open,
Angels scored 2 more because the Sox were apparently paying homage to Chuck Knoblauch in all his criminal and noodle-arm glory.
(I love how people are using this story, much like they did with the Jim Leyritz one, to substantiate the “Yankees are evil” contention. Every story leads with “Ex-Yankee,” which is a convenient, albeit arguably skewed modifier, for players that ended their careers on the Dodgers and Royals, )
Boston’s super scary bullpen was still swimming in the lukewarm pond, and I wonder if the same people who just “decide” someone’s popular in high school, work on the same panel of people who “decide” what undeserving pen is going to be touted as indestructible all year.
At one point, Victor Martinez called time to have a settle-down chitchat with his pitcher. Saito put his mitt over his face (“he clearly just saw someone do that once on tv and thought it looked cool”–my sister), and Martinez just looked at him blankly and all but rolled his eyes.
Ha. If he wasn’t playing for the Axis Powers, I might like V-Mart a little more. Because you just imagine what’s running through his mind: his team is down by 3 and getting shut out in a playoff game. His pitcher just walked someone, hit the next batter with a pitch, and then let a runner make it to 1st on an infield single…
So he goes up to give his pitcher a breather, only for Saito to decide to engage V-Mart in a thickly veiled dialogue, as if there is a single soul in Angels Stadium that could lip read his somewhat stilted Japanese-English.
Good talk, guys. Two RBIs immediately followed.
Final score: 5-0. First Sox postseason shutout since October 4, 1995.
Thanks, Sux. It was nice to be able to watch legitimately meaningless baseball, and even nicer to see you it end with your name in the L column.