the coliseum still looks silly with the upper decks tarped offThe best thing I can say about last night's game is that it was over quick: we stayed until the last out and by 9:45 we were already speeding down 880 away from the scene of the crime. (After the eighth inning, my Dad said, "So those Sox fans are leaving because Manny and Ortiz got out and they figure you have no shot?" and I said, "Are you kidding? Our two hottest hitters are up next inning!" Optimistic to the end. Yuck.)
Before the game, though, something did happen that made me so giddy that I was able to remain slightly upbeat until the Sox hit into their second double-play of the evening (825th on the series): We got there a little early, just in time to see the last Boston batting practice group, which included the man, the myth, the legend, his batshittedness, Julian Tavarez.
It wasn't until that moment that I realized that with Julian still in the rotation and our next interleague series approaching this weekend, he's going to have AT-BATS on Saturday. Can you imagine what kinds of things Batshit will do in the batter's box?
1. Strike out swinging and then proceed to argue the call with the ump, getting himself tossed in the second inning.
2. Step out of the batter's box to play traffic cop when another member of his team tries to steal a base.
3. Intentionally lean into a hit-by-a-pitch and then charge the mound.
4. Somehow manage to get on base, attempt to tag out members of the other team.
The possibilities are endless! Apparently he hasn't had a hit since 2002 (hitting .125 in 27 at-bats), but I'm sure that won't phase him.
Leaving soon for this afternoon's game. It'll be noon, the sun will be shining, I won't be at work, I'll be drinking beer, and I apparently only owe my friend $17 for my ticket. Good things have to follow, right? Right?