2007 ALDS Game 1: Thunderstruck

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 4, Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim 0

Ohwoahwoaaaahwoah...THUNDER Ohwoahwoaaaahwoah...THUNDER

About two years ago, when rumors about Josh Beckett's impending arrival in Boston first hit the tubes of the Internets, my first thought was of the final game of the 2003 World Series; a game that went down in the record books as Josh Beckett's second complete game shutout of the 2003 post-season, and sealed his claim for the 2003 World Series MVP award. That moment in time crystallized all of my expectations of the coming Josh Beckett era: the Sox would return to the post-season, Beckett would be on the mound, and good things would happen. As simple as that.

I was caught/In the middle of a railroad track (THUNDER)
Looked around/And I knew there was no turning back (THUNDER)

Two post-seasons later, the stars had finally aligned, and Beckett, now the clear ace of the staff, made the start that flirted with perfection while it stayed grounded in reality. Despite - or perhaps as a result of - blowing the opportunity for his 21st win about a week ago, Beckett took matters in hand for game one and set the table for the rest of the series, with nine innings of eight strikeout gas, a host of emotional, fiery pitching bottled down into strikeouts and ground outs and fly balls that went nowhere outside of a fielder's glove. The masterful Texan even managed to add a glaze of humanity to his dish of seared Angel by starting the game by taking Chone Figgins to three and two, before surrendering an anti-climactic single off the glove of Pedroia. Was there a hint of panic in the eyes of the pitcher? A sinking feeling in the stomach of every Red Sox fan? Of course - these are the moments that define the playoffs. Then all of the nervousness disappeared, the clouds parted, and a demi-god took control.

My mind raced/And I thought what could I do? (THUNDER)
And I knew/There was no help, no help from you (THUNDER)

Nineteen batters. That's how many men came and went to the plate in succession of 1-2-3 innings between the first and second Angels hits of the game, between Chone Figgins off the glove of Pedroia, and Vladimir Guerrero past the legs of the surprised Beckett and into center field. In between, four Red Sox runs, blessings of the long bomb off the bats of Youkilis and Papi, a single by Lowell to score Ramirez. Shaky John Lackey escaped with less damage than one might expect, but the Boston bats probably wondered, "why let our starter get cold on a night like this one?" and punctuated the evening air with only those offensive actions necessary to carve a win in the stone of Beckett's unhittable fastball.

Beatin' in my heart/The thundering guns!/Tore me apart/You've been...THUNDERSTRUCK

I read something earlier today about teams that win the first game of the ALDS having especially good odds of winning the series; something about the momentum of the victory carrying the winning team on to eventual victory. It's something to mull about over the next two days, as we wait to see whether or not that momentum will carry our $110 million Zen Master to victory in game two on Friday. Until then, I'll have the savor of this sweet victory to tide me over. We'll be waiting, Angels...

Ohwoahwoaaaahwoah...Ohwoahwoaaaahwoah...

Game 72: Dice-K and His Wonderful Imperfections

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 2, San Diego Padres 1

I'd say Dice-K's line of one run, five hits, five walks, nine strikeouts and a win in six innings was an odd combination that usually leads to failure, but looking at Matsuzaka's game logs from this year a pattern of consistent inconsistency emerges: Dice-K will strike out 10 and lose, then strike out 10 and win. He'll turn five hits and five walks into a seven run deficit in Seattle, escaping with a no decision, or do the same thing in San Diego for a close win. Expect the unexpected from the Zen Master, because each start is like a little jewel pulled from a mine, with its own flaws and imperfections and unknown real-world value. You have to watch carefully to see what you're going to get each night Matsuzaka comes to the mound.

Speaking of flaws and imperfections, does anyone know why last night was 1982 throwback jersey night? Besides wondering when I was going to see Wade Boggs stride out of the dugout and thinking that the Padres old uniforms only really work when accompanied by a well-developed porn 'stache, I was a little baffled by the choice. Was it for charity? Was it to mark the Red Sox visit, or because so many Red Sox executives got their start in San Diego? Who knows. Maybe tonight they'll put out the camo unis.

In any case, after Dice-K walked the bases loaded in the first and somehow escaped surrendering just a one-run single, the Sox took just enough from Maddux to get by, scoring their two runs on four singles; solidly-hit, well-placed balls that escaped the infield with just enough speed to do the necessary damage. Lopez, MDC, Okajima and Paps surrender two hits over three innings to end the night and win number 47 belongs to Boston. As both teams prepare for round two tonight, there's really only one thing to say: "You stay classy, San Diego."

Game 51: Feeling Like a Winner

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 4, Cleveland Indians 2

Clearly the rumors of Josh Beckett's demise were greatly exaggerated. Seven innings, seven strike outs, three hits, two runs, one walk (neat line, huh?) made for another ordinary day at the office where all of Beckett's pitches worked as planned, batters swung and missed when appropriate and most of the Indians offense didn't know what to do with themselves. Thanks to two DPs, Beckett even faced the minimum number of batters for six innings. Add last night's appearance up with pissed-off Schilling from Monday and the Zen Master's stylings tonight and I think calling for the brooms for the second series in a row isn't unreasonable, because things are just clicking like magic.

It's almost frightening to say this, but every win puts me in an odder and odder place as a Red Sox fan. Baseball Prospectus predicts 106 wins for the Red Sox this season, a rate so fantastic that if the projections are even close (i.e., over 100 wins) they will make the 2007 Sox the winningest team in Red Sox history since 1946, when Doerr, Pesky, Williams, DiMaggio, Ferriss, Hughson et all put together 104 wins and a .675 winning percentage to grab the AL title (and face an ignominious fate in the World Series, but we won't go there). Indeed, if the Sox go on to capture their projected 106 wins, they will beat out the 1912 team as the winningest Red Sox team ever, which boggles the mind.

The upshot of all of this encapsulated awesome is that I've started to develop certain expectations of how a game will progress. First expectation: when the Red Sox get a hit or a walk in the first inning, that runner will score. At this point, Kevin "The Man" Youkilis will probably be involved, but the end result is the same: the Sox will draw first blood (especially if they're batting first) and take an early lead. Second expectation: the starter will go six innings and surrender less runs than his offense generates. Third expectation: the bullpen is solid enough to protect any lead, even if there are a few bumps along the way. As you can tell, taken together these expectations mean that the game is over as soon as the Sox get their first base runner, which is a very, very nice feeling to have as a fan. I can even enjoy the bumps for the moments of excitement they create, the nervous tension that exists in a vacuum because right now, even a loss or two doesn't matter. It's so very, very sublime.

Game 41: This Temple is Dedicated to Dice-K, We Just Worship in It

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 13, Atlanta Braves 3

When Chipper Jones complained about the imbalance of Interleague schedules earlier this week, I think today's game might have been what he had in mind. With Dice-K pitching a gem that, like a flawed ruby, was marked only by a single mistake (a pitch rocked by an always-aggressive Jeff Francoeur), the Braves had no chance to win and, with a string of pitchers whose flaws stood in direct contrast to the Zen Master, they helped themselves to a loss that may reverberate into tonight's part two.

Here is the measure of Matsuzaka's recent magic: in seventeen innings over two starts, he's allowed four men to cross the plate and won both games. He's been aggressively pounding the strike zone, surrendering fifteen hits and striking out eleven, but giving up nary a single walk on 227 pitches. His only harmful mistakes in both games have been two home runs, another symptom of how much he's trying to crush the zone right now. To say he gave Boston what was needed today in Game 1 is understatement - he just put the fear of God into most of the Braves lineup so they'll be mystified when they face Hansack tonight.

Then there's the offense; marvelous, magic, full of life and power and - holy crap - home runs from unexpected places. Julio Lugo homers to start the Sox half of the first, setting the tone. Kevin Youkilis hits his second home run in four games, adding to an RBI streak that started back on May 12 and a hitting streak that started on May 10 and pushing the game to 3 - 0 in the second. Mike Lowell redeemed a missed bases-loaded chance in the first with a grand salami in the fifth and Wily Mo...well, Wily Mo did what he does best. Into the parking lot, baby.

To say this team is firing on all cylinders this year is an understatement of extreme proportions. To say that as a Red Sox fan (especially as a Red Sox fan) that I'm anxious about the other shoe dropping is just as much an understatement...but for the moment, I'm happy to take a cue from Matsuzaka's performance on the mound and just like things roll. 10+ games up on the AL East? Best record in baseball? Best record in baseball since the 2001 Mariners, the only other team in history to have this good of a start? It's a good time to a member of Red Sox Nation.

Game 37: Complete Game, Baby!

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 7, Detroit Tigers 1

For all looking for a sign that Dice-K is the real deal, look no further: no walks, six hits, five strikeouts and one measly little run over nine innings is about as real as any of us should need. The strong curve ball that anchored his last start returned, complementing an indomitable pitching rhythm required for true domination of the bat. The Tigers had no chance, as ground out after ground out, peppered with a few useless hits, racked up the innings and sealed their fate.

What's even more impressive about Matsuzaka's performance is the one mistake he did make: a low fastball, tailing over the heart of the plate at 94 miles per hour that Curtis Granderson smoked into the right field bleachers for the Tiger's only run. Sure, the pitch was a mistake - a little lower than Tek's waiting glove - but there was no freak out, no pause even, as if the home run failed to penetrate the defenses of Dice-K's concentration. Coming back to pound the outside half of the strike zone, the Zen Master got the next batter and out of the inning on four pitches, on his way to his second masterful start in a row.

Here's what really excites me about this complete game, though: it's not that a guy known for his rubber arm went 124 pitches and got better as he went along - although that's very cool - but that it's a sign of Dice-K's growing composure on the mound and with that composure his growing ability to dominate some downright scary offenses. I think about that increased confidence and I think Matsuzaka and his place in the brick wall Red Sox rotation and I start to get the same jittery, pit-of-the-stomach excitement I got three years ago, thinking about the Sox winning a World Series. If this team stays healthy...man, it's gonna dominate.

Dice-K Versus the Fish People

Matsuzaka faced Grapefruit League batters for the first time today, drawing an over-capacity crowd of journalists, a representative from the offices of Major League Baseball to collect all of the bases for post-game auction, a lot of asinine commentary from Marlin broadcasters ("We talked to so-and-so and he says the gyroball doesn't exist." Really? You might want to tell that to the scientists who invented it.) and a surprising number of hits by Marlins players no one has heard of but who will probably end up putting up massive numbers for no money like, say, Hanley Ramirez in 2006. Living as I was at the mercy of the broadcasters and my imagination I didn't see the pitches in question, but it sounded like hanging offspeed pitches were to blame, resulting in a ticklish situation in the second where the Marlins turned a walk and a ground-rule double into runners on second and third with one out. In my mind, Matsuzaka looked around, laughed scornfully and then belched fire at the plate, turning Scott Seibol into a human torch. In the real world, however, a strikeout for Seibol and a bunted pop-up for Reed sufficed.

Pondering the Zen Master phenomenon as I do, I wonder about Dice-K's supposed command of six or seven pitchers and what that means for things like strikeout rate (which just caught my eye in the past few minutes, because he's struck out so many this Spring). So far, including the game against the Eagles, Matsuzaka has six strikeouts in five innings. Baseball Prospectus forecasts 162 total strikeouts for this year, putting Dice-K seventeenth behind The Mighty Santana, who will lead the pack with 218. The average of those 17, by the way, is 176; Johan is a bit of an outlier.

Assuming those projections are reliable, it sounds like being able to throw so many pitches doesn't help or hurt a pitcher's ability to get strikeouts. If it helped, Dice-K would be in the top 10 with Peavy, Bonderman, Sheets, etc.; if it hurt, he'd have a much lower projected total. However, today we had an example of why knowing so many pitches can help a pitcher: Matsuzaka's breaking balls weren't breaking, so the Marlins got two hits and a walk in three innings. However, because Dice-K also developed a group of power pitches, he can still get the first pitch strike, still get the three strikeouts and still pitch his way out of jams like the one he faced today.

Dice Clay, Zen Master

I really, really wanted to start this post with, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Red Sox will win the 2007 World Series because of Daisuke Matsuzaka." But I can't. Dice K's first outing (against the college boys) while a nice showing of 25 pitches with 19 strikes, wasn't the massive dominance I might have hoped for before I opened up Gameday Audio. It was as good as anything Schilling or Beckett has put together this past week, but it didn't live up to the hype - he didn't make every batter cry just by looking at him. However, disappointment aside, I find myself intrigued by the intersection of Matsuzaka and the hype...so let's talk about that hype for a moment.

Ever since Matsuzaka joined the Sox, there's been a growing buzz about the pitcher, about his pitches, about his past successes, etc., etc. and, now in America as in Japan, there is a hype about him. I've seen the phrase "possibly the best pitcher ever" ever bandied around by people who, if they were serious, should probably know better. Even if that claim is overboard, it's par for the course in this sport; anyone who gets a massive contract from a team based in a city with a fan base whose love of baseball borders on rabid (paging Mr. Rodriguez) is going to get a lot of attention from everyone. But I'm not telling you anything new so far. What is interesting that Matsuzaka doesn't seem to give two craps about everything that's going on around him.

All throughout this process we've heard about Dice Clay working out, Dice Clay talking about how he's excited to pitch here and how Dice Clay is the only one not excited to pitch to start the season (by pitching to a group of college baseball players) - that he's spending the time focusing on hitting the strike zone, not on the thrill of starting the spring. But all of the news reports about these activities seem to suggest as a subtext that all expectations slide off of Dice Clay's back like water off a duck's ass. Baseball players say all the time that they're just out there to play, but I now feel like Matsuzaka really means it from the core of his being.

Overall, Daisuke Matsuzaka seems to be a man so used to living life as a celebrity that he flows through all of the attention, all of the hype, all of the expectations like they aren't there and just goes and does the job he gets paid for. It's not even like he's aware of the celebrity but thinks that he needs to be above it - he's like the frickin' Zen Master of celebrity, able to float serenely in the turbid waters like a fish (for some reason, celebrity just screams water similes to me). And, knowing that, maybe I really can say now: "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Red Sox will win the 2007 World Series because of Daisuke Matsuzaka."

Total side note: Jacoby Ellsbury's speed translates very, very well over the radio. He just legged out a triple in what sounded like doubles territory. Awesome.