Katie: "This was the first Beckett start I didn't watch this season. Clearly, I blame myself."The Josh Beckett Random Performance Rating Generator Using Lyrics By a Band That Does Not Have Any Songs about Blisters, Not Even the Kind You Get When You Burn Yourself On A Glass Bong:
|5/13||7||0||2.66||4.00||2||2||0||2||7||Where are you going?|
The lyric instead summing up how I felt when it was clear Beckett wasn't coming back out for the fourth.
I don't even know, you guys. I spent a large portion of the last three games watching with one eye while grinding out my second-to-last paper in the history of my career as a graduate student. The paper was about malaria, which might explain why this series felt like such a fever dream. Did we take two out of three or did we very nearly almost get swept? Was the game over when Beckett came out after four innings with a
Speaking of which -- when they took Guthrie out, I swear to Papi, I actually thought, "Well, that's one way to avoid allowing your bullpen to give away the game, only leave them 2/3rds of an inning and a five-run lead." Turns out, when you're dealing with the Orioles' $44 million dollar lemon, 2/3rds of an inning is all it takes. I have to hand it to the offense, though, the comeback in the ninth inning may have been the only thing that could have distracted me from rocking like Francona, muttering not a blister, not a blister, not a blister for the next four days.
* During his post-game conference, Beckett said, re: his finger injury, "The training staff, I'm sure, will keep everyone abbreviated." I guess the rumors of his limited vocabulary haven't been exaggerated.
* When Paps came in to pitch the ninth yesterday, was I the only one who thought, "Well, at least it's an opportunity to shave down his ERA?"
* With his artistically applied eye black yesterday, Papi bore a suspicious resemblance to Ryan Ross. (Katie is going to kill me for mentioning Panic! at the Disco in the Papelblog. Good times!)
* I enjoy her blog posts, but I am refraining from jumping on the Amalie-Benjamin-Is-My-NESN-Girlfriend bandwagon until she can sit next to Tina Cervasio's Cavernous Maw during the pre-game show and not look twelve years old. Seriously, Amalie, I know Hazel Mae and the Cavernous Mae cake it on a little bit too much, but for God's sake, run a comb through your hair! Put some lipstick on! (Also, stop looking so much like the first Yankees fan I had the misfortune to date, that might help, too.)