So this is it, the day when the games start to count until October, when we start to answer the questions about the viability of this year’s team and their ability to overcome the numerous potential problems that lurk in the shadows like demons of disaster. The specters of Schilling’s ankle, Foulke’s knees, Beckett’s hands, Nixon’s back, Loretta’s Coco Crisp’s reaction to the pressure, Mike Lowell’s bat, Tavarez’s temper and the abilities of the entire bullpen all flit about, taunting Red Sox Nation with the uncertainties of failure. If things come together, though…
The original plan for the evening was that Robin and I were going to gather at my apartment in the evening, sport the necessary gear and scream obscenities or cheers at the TV while my girlfriend wonders why she’s dating a Red Sox fan. However, a quick check of today’s schedule to see whether or not the game started at 7:05 or 8:05 revealed that, horror of horrors, the game starts at 2:05 this afternoon. 2:05?!? A major market team playing an up-and-comer like
GO SOX!!!
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