Game 22: Ashes to Pinstriped Ashes

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 11, New York Yankees 4

Thanks to Mike (and again, thanks!) I have had many different experiences when venturing up to the Bronx, into the lion's mouth. I have been witness to exciting victories, crushing defeats, meaningful games, meaningless games, good times and bad. This was completely different than anytime before. Normally I can keep to myself and my friends, I limit my pro-Sox chatter, exuberance and apparel and I can make it back to Brooklyn without fear of bodily harm.

Tonight, I must admit, I had some fear. The Yanks are in the midst of a slide they haven’t seen since 1991. They can't get a pitcher past the 5th inning, the bullpen is taxed like a Connecticut middle class family and the once mighty bats have been falling flat. Combine this slump with the newfound courage (brazenness) of Red Sox fans and it is a powder keg waiting to go off.

Dice K managed NOT to be the focus of the story once again. He pitched well enough until the bottom of the 4th where his command swayed (as did the strike zone) and the bases were jammed, un-jammed and then jammed again. Again it seemed like his problems compounded and then disappeared in later innings as if he was still lights out. Is this going to be his MO for the rest of the year? 5-6 good innings and one bad one? In person he is very unassuming on the mound. He looks comfortable enough, but not dominating, not intimidating. A common comment from Mike was how little he was scared of Dice K when compared to other top pitchers in the league.

Meanwhile, the Sox bats were able to pounce upon the dwindling Yankee pitching. Pettitte ran afoul of the ump Brian Runge (who was freaking AWFUL all game) in the 5th and lost the lead that they had just gained from Dice K. The bullpen, over used and hapless, quickly let the Sox turn this one into a blowout. Every starter got a hit, Youk and Lugo went deep and even Pedroia managed his second extra base hit of the year. I was on the edge of my seat with joy, but I kept it to myself as I saw the fights going on in the other sections.

Tonight I bore witness as the stalwart hopes of the Yanks fans collapsed as easily as their team’s pitching. The team's losing streak is now at 7 and the fans aren’t taking it well. The crowd was belligerent and looking for an excuse to start trouble…well, those that stayed. The place emptied out in the 7th.

I felt like Snake Plissken as I made my escape through the subway system. Groups of morose, drunken fans wondered aloud if Torre would have a job on Monday and berated any passerby in Red Sox garb. To the 2 girls I met on the D train, you were lucky to get off at 125th. Those guys only got worse as we got closer to Manhattan.

These were the death throes. Do I think the Yankees are “done” as a team this year? No, of course not. It’s only April. But I do think that the fair-weather fans have jumped ship and the whole organization is in scramble mode. Tonight felt like the bottom of the barrel to me. When the temperature dropped in the 7th and the fog started to roll in, it was almost as if smoke was settling on the ashes of a burnt out team and fan base.

Now that I made it back from that dystrophic nightmare, I realize how lucky I am (we are) to be Red Sox fans right now. The Sox are primed with young talent, anchored with stable vets and have a pitching staff that is second to none in the league. If they can continue to hit and this bullpen can continue to hold (Timlin, Okie and Joel were solid tonight) I don’t see why the AL East isn’t ours.

“And I looked to the Bronx, and beheld a red horse in sox: and his name that sat on him was Death, and a second series sweep followed with him.”

Game 14: How Did We Win That One?

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 5, Toronto Blue Jays 3

So our worst starter (now nobody tell Tavarez I called him that… he’d eat me) against the cream of the Bluebird crop: Doc Hallady. Oh mercy me!! I had this penciled in as a big fat 'L' and was happy we were getting out of Toronto. And can you blame me?

Halladay was dealing and the Sox weren’t hitting. It looked like a bad combo.

After a well pitched first 5, the scheduled 6th inning meltdown from Tavarez (don’t let him find me!) looked like the end. Wrap it up, pack it in… done. No way that we can score 2 off the Doc. Well until they pulled him in the 8th. Yeah I have no clue why that happened. He got the 1st out, still looked fresh and then the Jays went to the pen. HUH??

In this confusion, Manny decided that he was JUST warm enough (and maybe his grill sold) so he decided to go yard and tie it with a bomb off Marcum. Add that to Timlin’s crotch grippingly scary but effective work in the 8th, Cora’s miracle triple in the 9th and Pap’s one man save show and that’s ballgame over people. We saunter back to Fenway winners and ready to tackle the Yankee menace.

Before we kick off the “rivalry” festivities here, I would like to talk about something (someone) that has been bothering me. As bad as Coco has been (and he’s been bad) he currently has NOTHING on Pedroia. Call him Wonderboy, Dusty P, Crap Basket or a homeless man’s Mark Loretta… it doesn’t matter. This guy can’t hit a lick. Both he and Crisp are batting a LOFTY .167 but at least Coco can lay down a bunt and steal a base (if he ever manages to get on). Pedroia can’t run, hit for power or hit for contact. He is such a void of talent right now that it is appalling that he is on the big club. Now I know I defended him before to some MAJOR detractors, and I apologize to you people (you know who you are). I was wrong. He flat out sucks and should be benched for Cora. But God knows Francona won’t do that.

Feel free to bring this up later when I am singing the praises to Wonderboy when he is batting .300 because the club stuck with him. I would love to eat crow (well, more crow) on this issue, but right now I don’t think that’s possible. Dustin is awful and I doubt very much that will change with more AB’s.

Ok… that’s my rant. Bring on the Yankees.

Game 2: Ok, So Was THIS Opening Day?

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 7, Kansas City Royals 1

We’ll give you a mulligan on Monday’s game you guys. That mess Schilling dished out didn’t count for anything, except for… you know… the standings. I understand everyone must have been a little tired from all the training and there was a foreseeable let down. I’m just glad that a day of rest between then and now was enough to help right the ship.

It’s just too bad for Odalis Perez that it got righted on his freaking head. The Royals looked as hapless as I remember and without Gil “Cy” Meche at the mound, they didn’t have a chance. Beckett was throwing BB’s and except for some control problems (4 walks?) and he looked pretty outstanding despite a high pitch count. The pen (whose names I still haven’t bothered to learn) looked just fine for a bunch of guys that could possibly be bussing tables in 2 months.

And the bats decided that they would accompany us for an evening stroll. So good of J.D, Manny and David to join us so early in the year. Youk’s big Passover blast in the 7th put the game out of reach and even Lugo, Coco and Pedroia were able to dog pile on the crappy KC bullpen. I think Lugo and Coco have 3 swings of the bat between them over these last 2 games. Meanwhile, Wonderboy is all about contact, he just needs to hit it where they ain’t.

The biggest news about this game was the kidnapping of Mike Lowell. Terrorists must have infiltrated the dugout before the first pitch and absconded with our normally flawless 3rd base human vacuum. The piss poor look-alike substitute was easily uncovered. Three errors in one game? The real Mike Lowell had only 6 all last season. This couldn’t be him. Quick! Get Jack Bauer to help negotiate Lowell’s release.

WE WILL FIND YOU! YOU HAVE MY WORD!

Sorry about that. I should really save the dramatics for the next game. After all, some Japanese guy that you may or may not have heard of is going to be starting. I’m surprised that all the media outlets haven’t made a big deal about this. Oh? They really really are? My bad.

Go get ‘em Dice-K.

Game 1: Fear of a Blue Meche

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 1, Kansas City Royals 7

"Thump. Thump. Thump." A lone scribe sits alone in the dark of an early April evening, thumping keys on a Dell Latitude X300 and imagining he's one of those grumpy old sportswriters who still writes columns on a Remington typewriter because he's too full of cuss to deign to use anything else. This particular wannabe has a mind full of irritation and a heart full of disappointment, but so does every other red-blooded Red Sox fan out there, with an Opening Day affair against a team that dreams of .500, against a pitcher whose $55 million price tag made headlines for its underscoring of the flaws of the current state of free agency, all designed to be an easy transition from Spring Training to the big time. Instead: Boston humiliated, Schilling heading to the dugout (and, presumably, the blog) in disgust after four and a third disappointing innings, Gil Meche the master of the day and the Sox lineup reduced to one run on eight scattered hits.

As the game wound down and I watched a young unknown named Joel Peralta give the lie to his 2006 stats and surrender two hits over the eighth and ninth innings, I gave some thought to the thing about this game, losing excluded, that disappoints me most. Was it Schilling's pitching? How about our lead off man, who struck out three times? Maybe Big Papi's rally-killing strikeout in the eighth, or how Wily Mo still seems willing to swing at anything that comes close to the plate, or Manny's inability to hit anything on Opening Day for the past seven years? Maybe it was Wonderboy, who did his best to reinforce DC's faith in his future stardom by trying to turn a clear single into a double, getting thrown out by a mile at second? I'm feeling the Wonderboy pick; that seems to be the point where the game started to go south for the offense, when Mr. Meche realized he could, in fact, pitch a house afire. Anyone have another choice they'd like to voice?

The Madness Has Begun

Rivalries are funny things. Yesterday was March 12; the regular season doesn't begin for another half month and most of the men who took the field in Ft. Myers won't be donning a major league uniform when the games start to count. But Spring Training or not, the first game of the 2007 chapter of the Biggest Rivalry in Sports still had the power to turn a rehab start for Carl Pavano into a do-or-die contest of hitting wills, a meet-and-greet between three Japanese players into an international rivalry expansion and 1:05 radio-broadcast start into a 7:05 TV event with a sold-out crowd, as if we were watching a pivotal game in a pennant race instead of a warm-up for this year's contests. The madness has truly made its decent upon us all.

However, I'm not sure this level of excitement is such a bad thing, kept in the proper context. Spring Training games are irrelevant at their best and downright boring at their worst, as a steady stream of players (who we won't see again until the circus returns to Florida the following year) make their way across the playing field to keep the game going and the starters from getting hurt.
Even now, as the teams get smaller, the rosters tighten and players start to see more innings, the end-game can be, at best, a time to see how those draft picks are doing. When the game becomes important for itself, as a contest between two teams with a lot of competitive history, it makes the whole game more exciting to fans. It's like throwing the first punch in a boxing match: it probably won't have anything to do with who wins (unless you're fighting Glass Joe), but it sure feels good to strike first. In other words, it doesn't count in the long run, but guess what! We beat the Yankees last night! Rock on!

Speaking of madness: Dustin Pedroia has a lower batting average this spring than Bobby Scales, who's pulled time as his late-inning replacement. Maybe Wonderboy's hitting so far this Spring is like screwing up the dress rehearsal so you do well for the live audience? If not, that nine hole is going to look mighty empty this year...

WOOOOONDERBOOOOY

The possibility of Dustin Pedroia as the possible starting second baseman and shortstop for next year hit our friend DC particularly hard, so I suggested he turn his growing outrage into a special feature. Without further ado, we present DC: Mad as Hell but Still Rational. Enjoy.

Those of you not up the latest Red Sox news may have missed an article on redsox.com (since replaced with the announcement about Alex Cora’s free agency declaration that mentions both Loretta and Gonzo) reporting that both Mark “The Pro” Loretta and Gonzo filed for free agency a few days ago. This isn’t that big of a surprise; everyone knew that they only had one-year contracts and there hasn’t been a lot of news about contract extensions for position players coming out of Theo’s office. So if everyone knew this was coming, then why is this noteworthy? Simple: the same article ended by all but guaranteeing Dustin “Wonderboy” Pedroia a starting role (with the author leaning toward waving goodbye to Gonzo). Now this begs a very simple and obvious question: WHY? What has Wonderboy done to earn anything more than an invitation to Spring Training and a package of Fenway Franks?

I know, Pedroia’s put in his time in the minors and that ranks right up there on the warm and fuzzy scale right along with fluffy bunnies and when my girlfriend does that thing I like. I understand that Wonderboy was a 2nd round pick and it seems like he’s been the next big thing since Johnny Pesky was wrinkle free. But the reality of it is he was drafted in 2004. Yup, that means he has less than 3 years in the minors and less then 2 full seasons in AAA.

I know what you’re thinking: “That doesn’t mean anything; a lot of guys don’t spend time in AAA.” Well, let’s look at Wonderboy’s major league readiness compared to Gonzo and The Pro. This season, Gonzalez had 7 errors in 475 chances, for a .985 fielding percentage. Loretta had 4 errors in 639 chances for a .994 fielding percentage. Wonderboy came up and posted a .972 fielding percentage with 4 errors in 33 games. I’ve also been unable to find anyone who doesn’t think he’s terrified of the runner while turning a double play. In fact, Robin once called me to specifically tell me that Pedroia may wet himself the next time someone slides into second. How’s that sound for our middle infielder of the future? Oh and by the way, he can’t hit either. Seriously, if we needed a .191 batting average we would have bought Belli a middle infielder’s glove.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying its time to send this kid the way of Luis Rivera (how’s that for a blast from the past). I realize Pedroia’s only 23 and has the upside of blind date with Jenna Jameson. I’m just saying let him come to spring training and earn a spot. Then, now that Cora’s filed for free agency, maybe Pedroia spends a year as the utility guy and the Sox bring Gonzo and The Pro back for another year or two. That way there’s no controversy and everybody is happy. We all get to watch more of the smoothest defense around, our pitchers can keep throwing ground balls confidently, and Wonderboy finally gets to spend a year in The Fens learning for the vets and hitting on BU chicks.