I would have preferred a win, of course, but if we had to lose, at least it was exciting: Francona going so hardcore on his Rain Man impression that he's stirring up dead leaves and loose paper on the other side of the field, Big Papi at the plate, the fate of the free world in his hands...
The camera angle tricked me when he hit that final pitch. Maybe it was self-induced hysteria, I don't know. I do know that when the ball left his bat I cut loose with my baseball celebration yell: the one that could do double duty as a war cry and has no doubt left my landlords upstairs wondering if I suffer from Tourette syndrome. All for naught, however, as a slightly more sober viewpoint quickly ascertained.
But that wasn't the end! Jacoby Ellsbury, stealing bases and making friends! Not on a particularly good jump, mind you, but more than enough to rattle Nivarro into throwing the ball into centerfield. Emotional rollercoasters are a dime a dozen these days, but I think those few moments - Kotsay's walk, Papi's loud out, Ellsbury's advancement - certainly qualify for the necessary ups and downs. I was praying for the suicide squeeze...maybe next time.
G21: Yankees 3, Red Sox 0
18 hours ago