Final Score: Boston Red Sox 5, Detroit Tigers 6The last time Detroit swept the Red Sox, it was 1992, the year the Sox fielded the worst team (73 and 89, with a sweet .451 winning percentage) since 1966; a team that was so bad it's gone on to be the worst Red Sox team in 41 years. That's not to say the 2007 edition of the Olde Towne Team is anywhere near as bad as the 1992 edition, or that the 2007 team is even a bad team; it's just an indication of how much the Sox crapped the bed this weekend.
After decreeing a night of excellent pitching and no hitting on Saturday, the baseball gods swung things over and turned Sunday into a slug fest, complete with a Matsuzaka meltdown like we haven't seen since the end of May. Actually, it was worse than that far-off day in May, because Dice-K never had a rhythm to fall out of as he careened from batter to batter and hit to hit like a drunk stumbling home after scoring the Mezcal worm. After the fourth inning this game was dead to rights over, with the fifth and sixth becoming mere mourners at the graveside...
Until just as suddenly, the order of things snapped around and the Sox started hitting well and pitching even better. Timlin, whose eight inning scoreless streak beggars the imagination, continued his dominance over two (two!) innings yesterday, keeping the Tigers in check while Boston clawed its way back into the game. Lugo jacked one, Jeff Bailey (I know! Shame on me!) jacked one for his major league hit and the Tigers started going through relievers like a nervous teenager through clothes before a big date. Top of the ninth, Tigers leading by one and on comes Todd Jones, closer extra-ordinaire. Jones hasn't been as effective this year as he was in 2005 and 2006, so there's a good chance to blow things open and steal the come-from-behind win.
Two singles and a throwing error mix with a pair of outs to put runners on first and third with two out as J.D. Drew comes to the plate. He's drawn a walk and scored a run today, but the 0 for 4 hangs over his head as he takes his cuts. First pitch: foul ball. Second pitch: strike on the inside corner. Third pitch: Jones leaves it out over the plate, high in the heart like an offering to Drew's bat. He swings, he connects, he...pops out. Damn it. Forget what Shakespeare said, this ending was the unkindest cut of all.
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