this weekend was the equivilent to sending our offense to a nice spa or somethingAfter a four-game assassination in which the Red Sox offense out-scored the White Sox 46-7, I thought it might be fun to concentrate on the performance of the four starters. When your team scores fourteen runs (fourteen runs on Saturday, and none on homers!) you figure you coulda sent the batboy out on the mound and gotten the win, but there was some good stuff going on there amidst the offensive explosion:
Game 1: Josh Fucking Beckett
Pitching Line: 5.2IP, 7H, 3ER, 1HR, 3BB, 4SO
Probably Celebrated His Win By: skull-fucking a water cooler and listening to some "angry" DMB tunes ("Don't Drink the Water"?) as this was a pretty rough outing. Here's the thing, though -- there's a lot of talk lately about how best beloved Beckett is the "true ace" of the 2007 team, and I actually think this lousy outing cinched it. In the top of the first inning, issuing those three walks in a row, Beckett had nothing, and it seemed like we were in for a 1.2 inning, 7 run nightmare start that would have the bullpen grabbing their collective ankles. But your ace? Your ace is the guy who says, "Okay, I've got nothing today. But now I've got to figure out a way to keep us in the game." So cheer up, Beckett kid, because it's craaaaaazy how you make it aaaaaall alright.
Game 2: Curt Schilling's Hair
Pitching Line: 6.0IP, 3H, 1ER, 1HR, 1BB, 3SO
Probably Celebrated His Win By: looking at real estate in Tampa.
Game 3: Tim "Look Out, Cy Young" Wakefield
Pitching Line: 7.0IP, 3H, 0ER, 0HR, 2BB, 6SO
Probably Celebrated His Win By: balancing his checkbook, doing strength and conditioning exercises with Dougie, drinking a Michelob Ultra, etcetera. Tim Wakefield knows that you doubted that he could dominate a team whose name doesn't rhyme with "Revil Days," and he feels sorry for you. He takes his badassery just like he takes the occasions he gets shelled: in stride.
Game 4: Batshit Tavarez the Carnie King
Pitching Line: 6.0IP, 2H, 1ER, 1 HR, 3BB, 7SO
Probably Celebrated His Win By: rubbing Manny's head for good luck, playing a couple games of Skeeball, buying powdered rhino horn online, showing up late for his part-time gig on the traveling carnie circuit, saying, "Sorry, boss, had to stay late and kick ass at my day job." With Batshit, who knows, it's all fair game.
1: I need to tell you guys a secret. After two weekends of Fox broadcast, the There's Only One October! ad campaign is growing on me a teeny, tiny bit. I'm sorry, but any commercial that includes footage from the 2004 ALCS cannot be all bad. Dane Cook is a huge douche, but what if they'd gotten Dennis Leary instead? I mean, Dennis Leary is a huge douche, too, but he's earned the right to be a douche, you know?
2: Speaking of the Fox broadcast, the tendency toward Jeter ball-washing and giving Tim McCarver a paycheck aside, at least Joe Girardi actually talks about baseball during a, y'know, baseball game. I love Remy and Don-O like my next door neighbors, but the giggle-fests are starting to wear on me, and I think they are in danger of losing their minds a bit early this season, NESN may have to go to the bullpen for announcers who still remember how to speak in complete sentences by mid-September. Blah blah president of Red Sox Nation blah fan sign referencing the air guitar incident blah GYRO BALL BLAH.
3: Ozzie Guillen is obviously in no danger of losing his mind, it's already too late. And I seriously thought he was going to rush the mound while his own team was pitching during the eighth inning on Saturday. If Ozzie becomes the first manager to start an on-the-field brawl with his own team before the season is over, I will not be least bit surprised.
4: I'm watching the Sunday Night Baseball broadcast of the Mets/Dodgers game to see if the corpse of David Wells can still get it over the plate, and, uh, I admit I have been frustrated from time to time with the Red Sox with runners in scoring position, but the next time the Sox squander runners on first and third with nobody out, I am going to think about the Dodgers, because, Jesus Christ.
5: I'd be remiss if I didn't point out the absolute highlight of the weekend, bringing in Papelbon just to get some work for the ninth inning of a 11-1 blowout. I can only assume that Papelbon had to inject some of the Carnie King's Red Bull directly into his pulmonary artery in order to get the adrenaline flowing properly -- whatever he did, it worked, because he struck out the side, allowing him to continue to his march toward a space time continuum bending 31K/9.