Ortiz homers, and the Yanks tack on a pair for an 113 final. Its hard to blame Lowe entirely, when he got enough ground balls to at least keep things close. By now I expect the occasional error by Millar (wherever you put him), and Pokeys got a splint on his thumb, but Nomars got to do better. And, with credit to Vazquez (another new hire), three runs dont cut it in Yankee Stadium. Its just one game (just one of those games, like the one against the As, or the Dodgers, or the Phils), but were six and a half back and playing badly, and being embarrassed there annoys me even more. SO Getting beat by a horse like Matsui is one thing, getting beat by a BALCO Boy and the Ghost of Tony Clark is another. June 30th I didnt want to write this down, but after last nights crushing loss to the Yankees, I suppose I really ought to. About five days agojust before my trip to Boston, anywayI discovered a nearly perfect crowshit Yankees logo on the windshield of my truck. This is a true thing Im telling you. Youre asking do I have photographic proof? Are you crazy? What the windshield washer wouldnt take care of immediately, I got rid of with a fillingstation squeegee just as fast as I could (and it took a distressing amount of elbow grease; those big woods crows shit hard). Itold myself it wasnt an omen, but look at last night. Dick Cheney shows up in a Yankees hat, the Red Sox commit three more errors, the Yankees hitters are patient, the Red Sox hitters arent. Derek Lowe, who has lately shown signs of his old craftiness, last night looked like an escapee from that old Spielberg film The Goonies. Any halfway knowledgeable baseball fan will tell you there are three aspects to the game you have to be able to throw the ball, catch the ball, and hit the ball. Last night, the Red Sox did a bad job on all three. And the Yankees have changed since April; this is Frankenteam. But there is good news, and it isnt that I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express last night. The crowshit Yankees logo is no longer on my windshield, and at midnight tonight, June is officially over. Im expecting the Swoon to be over with it. This team is just too good to keep playing as it has over the last dozen games. I hope. Thats right, I hope. Because thats what Red Sox fans do. Gloom and doom from Sean McAdam in the Providence Journal. I cant imagine how hard the Globe is riding the team. The Sox need to demonstrate some character, the Sox need to show why they have the secondhighest payroll in baseball, you can judge a team by the way it responds to adversity, etc. Hey, Sean, maybe youve forgotten, but weve had our adversity, and we responded by leading the division for a couple months. Its a case of whathaveyoudoneformelately, which for the beat reporter means a couple hours ago. Were 62 against the Yanks so far, and weve played a big chunk of the season without Nomar, Trot and now Bill Mueller. As long as we stay close, we can pick it up in the second half like we did last year and make the playoffs, and in a short series, with Petey and Mr. Schill and Foulke to close, weve got a shot. Tonights WakeLieber matchup is in our favor, considering how Timmys pitched in the Stadium. It goes that way through six, 20 Sox on a David Ortiz homer and RBI single. We hit Lieber but leave a lot of men on, while the Yanks cant touch the knuckler. In the top of the seventh, we load the bases with no outs, and Torre goes to his middle guy, Felix Heredia. Hes not a topoftheline pitcher, and weve got the top of the order up. With the infield drawn in, Johnny grounds to Tony Clark, who goes home to cut down the runKapler, running for Millar. Now, with one down, our man on third is Doug Mirabelli, the slowest guy on the team. Francona must want three more outs from Wake, because he doesnt pinchrun, and Bellhorns fly to short left does nothing. On 22, David Ortiz takes an outside pitch and the ump rings him up. Its a terrible call, and Ortiz stays at the plate, taking off his helmet and batting gloves, muttering, Motherfucker, while the ump walks away. When Ortiz takes the field, hes still jawing at him. Im wondering where Francona is. Managers cant argue balls and strikes, but theres nothing more important, and we just got robbed. I dont care if he gets tossed, hes got to protect his players. Wake hits Sheffield with his first pitch. After ARod Ks, BALCO Boy steals second. On 32, Wake walks Matsui on a borderline pitch that gets past Mirabelli. Francona goes to Williamson to get Bernie Williams, and he does, on a splitter down. Posadaso typicalworks the walk, loading the bases for the switchhitting Tony Clark. Clarks a hundred points better lefty. We should have Embree warm, but hes just getting upand now Williamsons complaining of arm pain, and trainer Jim Rowe, Dave Wallace and Francona converge on the mound. Either its ridiculous coincidence, or Williamson is acting. Its ruled an injury, so our reliever can take as long as he wants to warm up. I think its going to be Embree, but when we come back from commercial its Timlin. He gets Clark to hit a onehopper to Ortiz, who stumbles as he bends to glove it, and the ball goes through him into right, and all I can think is, He pulled a Billy Buck. Two runs score, and were tied. Wheres McCarty? I ask the TV. Ortiz gets a new glove, as if that was the problem. Cairo grounds out to end the inning, but they get two runs without a hit. Tom Gordon throws a perfect eighth against Manny, Nomar and Trot, reaching 96 mph. Lofton leads off their eighth with a grounder to the hole that Nomar backhands. He leaps, twisting, and throws. Its short and to the rightfield side, but well in time. Ortiz misses the pick and it ricochets off his arm and into the stands. Where is McCarty? I yell. Jeter bunts Lofton over to third, then Sheffield fouls off seven fastballs on 02 (later Eck will say, I might think about mixing in a breaking ball thereyou know, thats just me) before pulling one past Bellhorn for a 32 lead. Embree comes on to face Matsui, even though Matsuis 3 for 8 lifetime against him. Make that 4 for 9, and were down 42. Mo takes care of the ninthironically, McCartys the last batter, and never puts on his gloveand we lose one we should have won. The loss is on Ortiz, but also on Francona for not having his hands team out there late in a close game. You can always stick David at DH. Instead, he had the hobbling Trot at DH (obviously that quads still bothering him), Millar in right and Youk on the bench. His use of Timlin and Embree seemed a little whacky, and after Wake left the game, Timlin and Mirabelli had trouble communicating during Sheffields atbat, shaking each other off several times before the last pitch. Why not go to Tek, who usually catches Timlin? And what about the philosophy of using your closer for the most important atbat of the game? We didnt even see Foulke warming. Terrible. If yesterdays loss was embarrassing, this ones humiliating. They didnt win, we actively lost. Now Peteys got to be tough if were going to avoid the sweep. That were 63 against them is no consolation, seven and a half back. Its true that Smarty Jones lost the Belmont Stakes in the final hundred yards yesterday, but he cant bat cleanup or go to his left on a ground ball hit deep in the hole, so fuck him. Todays newspapers described Wellss latest stint on the DL only as resulting from an offfield incident. A guy I know who follows the game closely says Wells injured his wrist when he fell off a barstool. I assume that was a joke, but given Wellss declared proclivities, one cannot be entirely sure. Although he was clearly pleased (at one point during his postgame comments, Pedro called it a dream game), and given the outcomeno runs and just two hits in eight innings pitchedhe had every right to be. Go, you Pistons! Stick it to em! Booya, Shaq! Doublebooya, Kobe! And maybe that giant skeletal Coke bottle in left field. So what the heck does that make me and ONan? July Turn the Page July 1st Why did football bring me so to life? I cant say precisely. Part of it was my feeling that football was an island of directness in a world of circumspection. In football a man was asked to do a difficult and brutal job, and he either did it or got out. There was nothing rhetorical or vague about it; I chose to believe that it was not unlike the jobs which all men, in some sunnier past, had been called upon to do. It smacked of something old, something traditional, something unclouded by legerdemain and subterfuge. It had that kind of power over me, drawing me back with the force of something known, scarcely remembered, elusive as integrityperhaps it was no more than the force of a forgotten childhood. Whatever it was, I gave myself up to the Giants utterly. The recompense I gained was the feeling of being alive. Frederick Exley, A Fans Notes Now, if you substitute baseball for football and Red Sox for Giants, you have a very fair picture of my rooting geography. Francona must be feeling the heat, because Ortiz is DHing and McCarty starts at first. Nomars not playingto give him a night off, as ridiculous as that sounds. Youk plays, Trot sits, so essentially were fielding the team we had in May, minus Bill Mueller. Peteys feisty, plunking Sheffield and then glaring back at him when he takes exception. In the second, he walks Posada, and that damn Tony Clark waits on a change and puts it out. Meanwhile, rookie lefty Brad Halsey is setting us down. In the fifth, Posada takes five straight pitches before fouling off the payoff pitch, then lifts one into the upper deck. 30 Yankees, and things look bad. In the top of the sixth, Ortiz leads off with a slicing fly to left. With the shift on, Matsui cant get there, and the ball hops sideways into the stands for a groundrule double. Manny steps in and crushes one to dead centerhe pauses to admire it a second, watching Halsey as the rookie turns away. Its 32 and the Yanks have to go to their middle guys. In the seventh, Quantrill gives up a deep leadoff fly to rightcenter by McCarty. Lofton gets there, just short of the track, but onehands it, and the ball pops out. Youk singles to left, so weve got first and third with no outs, and a big innings brewing. Pokey hits into an easy 463 DP, but McCarty scores to tie the game. Pedro finishes the seventh, and they go to Tom Gordon, whos solid. Foulke throws two innings for us, sneaking out of a oneout basesloaded jam in the bottom of the ninth. Mo gets us onetwothree in the tenth, while Embree has to battle Bernie with first and third to reach the eleventh. We load them with no outs. Millars due up, but weve got Nomar and Trot available. Francona sticks with Millar, who hits into a 52 double play. McCarty flies out, and I think this ones over, but Embree gets them onetwothree. The Yanks go to Tanyon Sturtze, who puts runners on first and third with one out, but Bellhorn pops up (he popped up last night in a similar situation). With two gone, Francona decides to pinchhit Trot, who flares one to left that Jeter snags on the run, thenweirdlytakes two strides and dives into the seats, banging up his face. On the replay, hes got room to swerve or slide, but there he goes into the stands like a bad stuntman. In Japan they call that a hotu dogu. Were down to Curtis Leskanic, who gives up a leadoff triple to Enrique Wilson when Johnny misplays a hop off the wall. Giambi strikes out, looking bad on three splitters, but Leskanic hits Sheffield (Torre comes out to bitch), and we intentionally walk ARod to set up the DP. Were in the top of the twelfth right now and scratching like mad to salvage one game. The ESPN boys are saying that if we get skunked, were dunked. I dont believe that, but a win would be nicesalvage a little of the ole selfrespect. Garciaparra has been dogbit in the field, and I really think Francona has been a bad choice as manager. Not in Daddy Butchs league (at least not yet), but hes not doing much to turn it around, is he? And if hes looking for a team leader, who is he going to look to? The guyswhove been out all season and just came waltzing back in like they had a free pass? Manny? Dont make me laugh. And Ortiz last nightBuckner all over again. Sign me, Just Plain Glum. Meanwhile, in the game, runners at first and third, one out. As the old gypsy says, I see handsome men on horseback. If it has to be anybody, let it be Tony Clark. And if it has to be anybody else, let it be good old Tom Gordon. With Millar as a fifth infielder, Bubba Crosby, who pinchran for Matsui, takes the count full before grounding to Pokey, who goes home for the force. Bernie Williams falls behind 02, and Leskanic gets him with a splitter and we worm out of it. Manny leads off the thirteenth with a rocket off the camera platform in leftcenter, and suddenly were up 43. All we have to do is hang on. Leskanic looks strong, striking out Posada, then making a nice play on a dribbler to the thirdbase side by Clark. I want him to finish off Ruben Sierraa guy who strikes out a tonbut Sierra bounces a single up the middle. Now with two out, the outfielders have to play deep so nothing gets through to score the runner. Leskanic gets ahead of Cairo 02. His next pitch is on the corner, and I yell, Got him! but the ump blows the call. I hold my arms out wide, beseeching the TV. On the next pitch, Cairo hits a fly toward the rightcenter gap. Millar heads over. He may not have a shot at catching it, but at the last second he veers away from it and toward the wall, trailing it as it hops across the track. Sierras chugging around third; hes going to score easily. What the fuck is Millar doing out there? Once again, Franconas fucked up. He pinchran Kapler but didnt pull the double switch. Kapler gets to that ballat the very least he cuts it off. John Flaherty, a backup catcher who played for us in the 80s, pinchhits. Hes hitting .150, but he lofts a double into the leftfield corner, and the games over. So we go from embarrassing to humiliating to painful, finding a new, more wrenching way to lose each night. I should have never mentioned the word sweep. Were eight and a half back, and the tone of the break is definitely set. In bed, still pissed off, I revisit the question of what the fuck Millar is doing out there in the thirteenth inning. The answer goes back to spring training, and the last man cut from the squad. Rather than keep Adam Hyzdu as a bona fide backup outfielder, Theo and Francona made the decision to go with Burks, Dauber, McCarty and Millar, understanding that Trot wouldnt be back for a couple of months. None of those four gets to that ball. Hyzdu does. And why is Kapler watching the play from the bench? Its like Francona has to learn the same lesson game after gameand its common sense to protect a late lead you want your best defense on the field. Its just fundamental baseball. Numbnut. July 2nd SO Not Tony the Tiger or Flash. It was Miguel Cairo, who kicked Tek on the force at home in the twelfth. In Little League he would have been tossed. SK Hate to give you the news, but this is the bigs. SO The big leagues, where you can gobble down steroids and not even get suspended. Would you buy a used car from Bud Selig? SK You got a point there. Where money talks and bullshit takes a walk on Boardwalk. Shit. The Yankees took all three games at the Stadiumswept us out, sent us packing, dropped us eight and a half games back in the AL East, and the secondtolast thing in the world I want to do this morning is write about baseball. The last thing I want to do is write about the Boston Red Sox. Since I have to, maybe the best thing to do is get it out of the way in a hurry. It was clear from the Yankees jubilation that they really wanted the sweep, probably as payback for the humiliation of being beaten six of seven earlier in the season. For Boston fans, the series was a quickanddirty refresher course on how hard being a Red Sox fan can be. Its not the sweep that hurts so much as the fact that we should have won last nightsgame (the Yankees took that one by a score of 54 in thirteen innings), we could have won the June 30th game, and I would argue that we might even have won the first game of the series, in which we were blown out, if not for the errors (the Sox committed three, two by Garciaparra, who committed three overall in the serieshe didnt play last night). Being a Red Sox fan, particularly when playing the Yankees at crucial junctures of the season, can be such a filthy job. Two nights ago, with the Sox leading 20 but in a jam, Tony Clark hit a hard ground ball down to first. It should have been the third out. In the dugout, Tim Wakefielddown for the win, if the Sox could hold onraised his hands joyfully. But instead of being an out, the ball squirted through David Ortizs glove and into right field.Ortiz blamed his glove, claiming the webbing was defective. Boston fans, knowing where God and the Fates stand in regard to our benighted club, did not doubt it. In last nights game, Manny Ramirez hit a home run in the top of the thirteenth to put the Sox up, 43. In the bottom of the inning, the first two Yankees to bat went harmlessly. Then Sierra singled, Cairo doubled, and Flaherty doubled. Ball game. The loss doesnt hurt so much as coming so close to winning. Twice during that nightmare inning we were only a strike away. And so I found myself doing what I have done after so many Red Sox closebutnocigar losses in my lifetime lying in my bed wideawake until maybe two or twothirty in the morning, seeing the key base hit that opened the door skip past the pitchers mound, then past the shortstop (Pokey Reese in this case) and into center field; seeing the celebrating Yankees; seeing our manager (Terry Francona in this case) hustling out of the dugout and into the clubhouse just as fast as his little legs could possibly carry him. Only this time I lay there also thinking that when I got up again after a night of bad rest, I was actually going to have to write about this fuckaree, thanks to my friend Stewart ONan, who got me into this. Thanks, Stewart. But theres one very good thing about July 2nd. The Red Sox are on toAtlanta. Atlanta usually kills us, but theyre having a down year, and at least I dont need to write about the damn Yankees for a while. After blowing two we should have won in the Bronx, we head south to take on the Dixie equivalent of the Evil Empire, the Braves. Theyre not that good this year, having lost most of that nibblethecorners staff of the 90s, but they play in the worst division in baseball, the NL East, so theyre still scrapping. Bill Muellers back, and to make room for him, the Sox put Crespo on waivers, with an eye toward assigning him to Pawtucket. Arroyo throws well, as does former Cleveland phenom Jaret Wright. Ortiz goes deep in the first, and Bill Mueller knocks in a run in his first atbat, but the Braves get solo shots from Chipper Jones and J. D. Drew to tie it at 2. In the middle of the sixth, Steve calls. Hes watching up in Maine. The Sox are playing like old people fuck. Hes worried about the season going down the tubes. Hey, I say, we almost have our starting lineup out there for the first time all year. Bill Mill at third, Nomar at short, Trot in right. The only one missing is Pokey. Is that a good thing, though, Stewart? Wouldnt you rather have the other guys playing the way they were playing in April or May? Pokeys not the one who hit .225 and made three errors this week. Nomar cost us a game. (As he says this, Bellhorn whiffs, and a caption says that his 90 strikeouts lead the league.) And Francona cost us at least one. I hate looking into the dugout and seeing him rocking back and forth. Like Danny in The Shining. I keep looking for drool. Redrum! Redrum! Steve says he couldnt sleep after last nights game, that he lay in bed, seeing Sierras ground ball up the middle. I confess to lying awake as well, as if were joined by a sickness, and we are. When he hangs up, I feel like Ive lost someone on the suicide hotline. I think I should have been able to cheer him up, but I cant lie; weve looked awful lately. Just have to ride it out. Its 22 in the eighth when the starters give way to a roll call of relievers. Its almost a replay of last nights game, with each team putting runners on and then not being able to drive them in. In the tenth Manny finally breaks the tie, knocking a single up the middle to score Johnny. In comes Foulke to close, even though he threw two innings last night. Rafael Furcal, whos the second fastest person in the stadium, doubles to leftcenter, then takes third on what the replay shows to be a foul ball (Francona stands blankly at the dugout rail). Little Nick Green hits a sac fly, and were tied. We do nothing in the eleventh or twelfth, and trust the game to Anastacio Martinez, recalled today to fill the spot left by Williamson, back on the DL. Anastacio looks good in the eleventh, but in the twelfth he gets no one out, giving up a single, a single and then a threerun homer to end it. 63, and we suck. At least the Mets beat the crap out of the Yanks, 112. Go Mets! July 3rd SK Im not writing in the baseball book until after the AllStar break. After last nights 12inning heartwrecker, I just cant. The team has clearly closed up shop until after the break. They need to take a few deep breaths and then just focus on winning gamebygame. The wild card is still possible, but right now losing it looks all too likely. I dont read the newspaper sports pages when were losingtoo depressingbut the screams for Franconas head have surely begun. Yes? SO You are correct, sir. Much secondguessing, though Ive yet to hear anyone ask for the head of hitting coach Ron Jackson, and its Papa Jacks boys who are stringing out the pen and making every defensive out crucial. Weve scored four or less runs in all of these losses, against decidedly borderline pitching (save for Vazquez, the sole quality arm; last night Jaret Fat Elvis Wright was mowing us down like alfalfa). That dont cut it, even in the NL. Bellhorn is stonecold, and when we do get runners on, were not moving them around. Tell Theo, and tell John Henry too its time to kick some ass. SK Theyve got the bats, theyd argue; where are the hits in those bats? SO Papa Jacks slogan last year was Somebody gotta pay. This year, if we dont start rippin, it could be him. Walking on the beach this morning, we pass a couple on a towel. The guy spies our Sox hats and says, How bout those Yankees? How bout those Marlins? I ask. Later, driving on I95, Im cheered by the sheer number of Red Sox stickers and licenseplate holders, even an official Mass license plate like Trot hawks on NESN. I pass a car that has one of the free BELIEVE stickers Cambridge Soundworks gives out by Autograph Alley, and I think yes, its that simple. We may be down now, but this is my team, and Im going to believe in them, whatever happens. Fuck the Yankees, and fuck their noshowing, frontrunning, fairweather fans. We all have our little strategies for dealing with loss, and right now Im using all of mine. The Red Sox, who seem to be imploding, lost another heartwrecker last night, this time in twelve innings, in Atlanta. Thats four straight, the last three close ones. Strategies for dealing? One Stop reading the sports pages. Right now I wont even read about Wimbledon, lest my eye should stray to a baseball story, or, worse, the standings, on the facing page. Two Kill the sound. I watch the game every night on TV, but now with the MUTE function engaged, because I have conceived an active horror of what the announcers may be saying. MUTE doesnt work when the games on ESPN, because their closed captioning kicks in, and in those cases, I have to turn the volume all the way down to 0. Three Change the station when the game is over. Just as soon as the final out is recorded I punch in Channel 262, better known as Soapnet. No way am I waking up to NESNs SportsDesk these days, even though I know I may be missing the always fascinating Jayme Parker. No, for the foreseeable future, Ill be catching up on All My Children while I shave and do my morning exercises. Meantime, good newsand it has nothing at all to do with me saving a bunch on my car insurance. It looks like the current BoSox skid is going to end at fourits the top of the ninth, and Bostons leading Atlanta 61. Curt Schillings on the hill for the Sox, looking for number eleven. Hesbeen our most reliable pitcher, because that suckers not just good, hes lucky. Tonight Doug Mirabelli came up with two outs and the bases juiced, and although the Sox have been horrible all year in that situation, tonight was Mirabellis nighthe put one over the fence to dead center, and that should be lights out for this lighthitting Braves team. Mr. Tripp, who owns the local general store, gave me a Tshirt today that says RED SOX on the front and I SUPPORT TWO TEAMS, THE RED SOX AND WHOEVER BEATS THE YANKEES on the back. I wore it for tonights game, and I intend to wear it again tomorrow. And every day until they lose. (I also intend to keep on watching All My Children on Soapnet instead of SportsDesk on NESN for the foreseeable future. Less stress.) July 4th After losing the other night, Anastacio Martinez is shipped back to Pawtucket, making room for Theos newest acquisition, former Pirate Jimmy Anderson, a finesse lefty who last pitched for the Iowa Cubs. Hes not the solution to our middlerelief problems, and I think Theos pulling a Dan Duquette, trying to get away with cutrate bandaids. If he really wants a quality arm, hes going to have to give up something. Im reading on the beach when my nephew Charlie says the Sox are winning 41. I wander into the house to see for myself and watch as Lowe gives up a walk, an infield single, another walk, a groundout by pitcher Mike Hampton that scores a run, a single, a double, a single. Weve all seen how quickly Lowe can melt down, and throughout this sequence were begging Francona to lift him, yet for most of it theres no one warming up. Francona lets him throw to lefty Chipper Jones, who predictably sticks one in the bleachers. Its 84, and everyone around the set is swearing. Francona finally calls on new guy Jimmy Anderson, who walks his first batter on four pitches, then gives up a double to Andruw Jones and a triple to Charles Thomas. Ive only been watching for ten minutes and Atlantas sent ten guys to the plate. Can they fire a manager in the middle of the season? Charlie asks. SK Sox getting roasted 104. When I snoozed off, it was 41 good guyz. This be bad. Another day, another shellacking by a sub.500 club; another series lost to same. Its time for Terry to go while theres still a season to save. Bring back Tollway Joe. SO Francona the Terryble. Bet the Globe and Herald scribes are sharpening their instruments. At least the Mets sweep the Yankees (their fans chanting, Were not Boston)and on a horrible call. Late in a close game, Cairo hits one to the right side that Piazza cant reach. It gets by him and hits Posada. The first base ump rules him safe; the crew chief overturns it. Torre comes out to argue, to no avail. The rule is that if a fielders had a chance to handle the ball, then the runners safe. The crew chief decided that Piazza hadnt had a chance in the official sense, and that the second baseman might, and was therefore deprived of the chance to put Cairo out by the ball hitting Posada. Torre protests the game. And while the Yanks were the recipients of dozens of homer calls from the umps during our last series (including the noncall on that 02 count to Cairo that would have ended Wednesday nights game), I cant help but be annoyed at the incompetence. Get it right, Blue. July 5th The AllStar teams are announced. Schilling, Manny and David Ortiz made itno surprise. What is shocking is that the three players implicated in the BALCO scandalBonds, Giambi and Sheffieldare all starting. Nice job, fans. Way to clean up the game. Is life simpler, as Americans like to believe, down on the farm? Were hoping, driving through a monsoon to see the PawSox, whose ticket office assures us the weather will clear up and theyll get the game in. They almost do. At one point the grounds crew has the tarp off and is raking sawdust into the infield dirt, and Anastacio Martinez and Ramiro Mendoza and Frank Castillo and Mystery Malaska warm up down the thirdbase line. But by the time we have the ceremonial pitches (its Latino Day) and Dauber and Adam Hyzdu and Big Andy Dominique come out to stretch, its misting again, then straightout raining, and two hours after game time, they call it, to halfhearted boos. So it really is a day off no baseball at all. July 6th Tonight the Sox open a threegame series with Oakland, one of their chief wildcard opponents, and for the time being, at least, Bostons postseason hopes are all about the wild card. Tonight will also be Bostons eightyfirst game of the year, which puts them almost exactly at the halfway point of the season. Any real analysis of the first half will have to wait until the AllStar break, but I think its fair to say that I have rarely seen the feeling in my little corner of New England turn so quickly, so decisively, and so almost poisonously against our only major league club. Who knows, by the time the AllStar break comes around, I may be willing to drop the almost. This sea change isnt that hard to understand. What we have here is a team filled with highpriced talent, much of which started the season on the disabled list. The team did well out of the gate nevertheless, contending in rather spectacular fashion in large part with the scrappy hitnfield skills of guys like Bellhorn, Youkilis and Reese to complement the booming bats of Ramirez and Ortiz.Then, just as the big boys started getting well, the team got sick. If its going to get better again, the convalescence must begin soon. How bad is it right now in what sportswriter Dan Shaughnessy has dubbed Red Sox Nation? I peeped in at NESNs SportsDesk this morning (I felt I could do this without too much fear of damaging my fragile sports superego because the Sox were idle yesterday) and was horrified to hear Soxapproved commentator Mike Perlow bandying Red SoxMarlins trade rumors concerning Nomar Garciaparra and Derek Lowe. Of course there will be trade gossip as long as theres pro baseball, but because NESN is a quasiofficial arm of the Red Sox organization, one is tempted to sense palsied fingers (perhaps on the hand of Red Sox general manager Theo Epstein) creeping toward that red button marked PANIC. My decision to tune in NESN (Channel 623 on my satellite hookup) was clearly foolhardiness masquerading as bravery. The thought of Nomar in a Florida Marlins uniform is dismaying, almost nauseating. After no more than five minutes, I made haste to Soapnet and All My Children, where Erica is currently enduring the worlds longest alcohol intervention,Babe is in the hospital recovering from something her boyfriend JR (with a nickname like that you know hes a rat) put in her drink, and no one, so far as I can tell, is in danger of getting traded to General Hospital. Right now that makes it a safer, comfier world. Wake versus Barry Zito doesnt sound fair, but in the second, Billy Mueller launches a threerun Monster shot. Zito loads the bases in the fourth and walks in two runs, then, after a smoked liner to third by Nomar, Millar doubles down the leftfield line, scoring two more. Its 70 and Zitos thrown over 100 pitches. As reliever Justin Lehr gives up four more in the fifth, and its a laugher. SK Maybe the worst part of the current Red Sox woes is that theres this wearyass old paperdelivery dude up here who drops off the Globe and the New York Times to the general store. Hes worse about the Red Sox than Angry Bill in Still, We Believe. Those damn Red Sox! he says one day.


And this morning its That damn Nomah! And every day its I been chasin those bums my whole life! You know, like hes the only fucking sailor on the Pequod. Well, its 110 Red Sox tonight in the sixth, and unless things go horribly wrongand after that last game in Atlanta, I guess anything is possibleI can face the wearyass old paper dude tomorrow with equaminity (sic). The problem is, its only one game. People are asking me about our chances in the wild card already. I mean, its come to that. Im telling them Hold the phone, theres still a division race going on here. But weve got to get the old Magic Streak going, like with the formerly hapless DRays. Could this be the magical night it starts to happen???!!!? Hold de fone! And git yo FREEK on!!! SO Naysayers everywhere. Its too easy. You could damn the chances of every team in the majors and at the end of the year youd be 291. Havent the Pats taught him anything? Dare to believe. Speaking of streaks, dja see my Bucs reeled off ten straight before losing to the Marlins last night? So it can happen to anybody. July 7th Tonight Mark Belllhorn takes Mark Redman deep in the first for a 10 lead. Like Zito, Redman struggles. In the second he gives up a solo shot to Nomar, and then a batch of hits, including a big double by Tek and a twoout RBI single by Johnny, and were up 60 and on our way to a rare blowout behind Pedro. July 8th Its Game 83, two past the halfway mark, and for the very first time (including spring training) we field our real starting lineup Schill and Tek; Millar, Pokey, Nomah and Bill Mueller; and Manny, Johnny and Trot, with Big David at DH. The SchillingHarden matchups in our favor, and goes that way early. Ortiz busts out of his slump with a tater over the Sox bullpen in the first, and Harden throws one at Mannys head. In the third, Manny retaliates with a threerun oppositefield shot. By the fifth its 71 and this one looks in the bag. But the As dont roll over. Schillings had a twentyfiveminute wait before the sixth, and they get a pair off him. In the seventh, Timlin gives up a twoout double to Erubiel Durazo and an RBI single to Bobby Crosby, and its 74. Francoma (as the press has been calling him) leaves him in in the eighth; he gives up another run, and with one out, we have to go to Foulke. He gets Byrnes with a changeup for the second out, but on 02, Scott Hatteberg slaps another change off the chalk behind third and its a onerun game. Jermaine Dye, 0 for his last 15, skies one to leftcenter. Johnny goes back toward the corner where the Monster meets the centerfield wall and leaps, but its off the Monster and bounces across center toward Trot. Hatteberg scores to tie the game. Dyes into third standing up, and Fenways grumbling. Durazo chases strike three to end the inning, but our sixrun leads history. Foulke throws a onetwothree ninth. Octavio Dotel looks tough, getting them to the tenth, but the As pen has thrown too many innings this series. They go to Justin Lehr, who gave up four runs in a single inning Tuesday. He gets Tek and pinch hitter Mark Bellhorn, but Johnny singles to left. The As move their outfield back so nothing gets through. Its a shrewd move, as Bill Mueller lines one to the leftcenter gap. Kotsay ranges over from center to cut it off in front of the scoreboard, but bobbles it. Johnnys going to try to score anywayat home you make them make the play. The crowds up and loud. The relays good, Crosby to catcher Damian Miller, but Johnny belly flops and slides a hand across the plate, and David Ortiz is there to call him safe and wrap him in a bear hug. The dugout rushes the field, mobbing Johnny and Bill Mueller, and its a sweep. Were 4637 and tied with Oakland for the wild card, and on Extra Innings, Eck is pumped. Oaklands not going to do it, he says. Theyre showing me nothing. Theyre done. Remember, I was the one that said it. July 9th Although things are heating up on All My Children, I was able to forego Babes struggles with the evil JR and JRs equally evil (and wellheeled) daddy to relish the highlights of last nights 87 Red Sox win over the As, completing the Sox sweep and returning Boston to a tie in the wildcard race. More important to me at this stage of the season, one threegame series away from the AllStar break, is the fact that weve managed to make up some ground against the Yankees, who have lost five of their last seven. The papers made much this morning about Oaklands surge in the late innings of last nights game (they pounded out 17 hits, most of them against the bullpen and the key ones against Keith Foulke, who blew the save opportunity), but my take on it is more optimistic. Heres a good Oakland team that gets blown out in the first two contests of a key series, their pitching touched up for 22 runs. Trailing by six runs in the final game, they do what good teams do fight and scratch and claw their way back into contention, trying to come away with something. But in the bottom of the tenth, Johnny Damon singled to left, then scored when As center fielder Mark Kotsay bobbled Bill Muellers line shot. It was only the smallest of bobblesonly a steps worth, surelybut Damon was running for all he was worth and that one extra step (and a hard slide across home) was just enough to win the game. It was a thrilling play, bringing the crowd at Fenway (and yours truly at home) to their feet, cheering. In the end, it was the good twin of the game Boston tried so hard to win against the Yankees and lost in thirteen innings. So thats three. Thats your little streak. Tonight were back to Arroyo. Its up to you, Bronson keep me away from All My Children. SO What do you think of the resurgence in Randy Johnson rumors? Could we get him for, say, Arroyo and BK, or is now the time to ship Lowe, before he walks? And on a lesser note, did you see Ellis Burks had to go back and have surgery on that knee a second time? Hell be out till September. So, since he has three singles and a homer so far, were paying him roughly two hundred thou a hit. SK A lot of talk about blowing that lead, but what really happened was Oakland struggling desperately to take one of threeand we held em off! Now we gotta keep going. As for the Ellis Burks thingwell, this is an old Red Sox trick. Next thing you know, well be bringing the Hawk out of retirement. Or the Eck. SO Why stop with one Hawk? Bring back Andre Dawson too. Speaking of knees. Tonight its Bronson Arroyo versus the Rangers Joaquin Benoit at Fenway, yet another sellout crowd. In the dugout, the Sox are goofing with an oversized bobblehead doll of Pedro. The controversy is that Franconas given him permission to go home to the DR, since he doesnt pitch until after the break. I bet a lot of guys would like to go home early, Jerry grouses, and hes right. To start, Arroyo gives up a double to Soriano, but Kevin Millar makes a great snag of a liner at first to turn two and bail his pitcher out. SK God, but ole Bronson looked shaky in the first inning, didnt he? Ive seen tonights plate umpire before. He played the World Champion Blind Lady in a revival of WAIT UNTIL DARK. Oh well, 10 Sox [Johnny scoring on a Manny sac fly in the bottom of the first]. Go Bronson. But shave that goat. That umpire is a serious CheezDog. Hasnt given pore ole Bronson one single corner. The Aman wont live long against a hardhitting club like this getting calls like that. Hes got 3 Ks through 3 23; with the same stuff (and the same ump), Pedro would have 7. Benoits thrown okay as well, but in the fifth Johnny hooks one around the Pesky Pole, and while Benoit gets the next three guys, they all hit the ball hard. In the sixth, he loads the bases with no outs. Tek Ks on three pitches before Bill Mueller hits a sac fly, and heres Johnny again, poking a wall double to score two more. SK Arroyo looks like the real deal tonight, dont he? At least through 7. SO Make that 8. [As Im typing, Johnny hits one into the Rangers pen.] And Johnny is just smoking. 4 for 5 with 2 dingers, 4 RBIs and 3 runs. I dont know what Papa Jack did before the Oakland series, but it stuck. Come on, DRays! (Theyre finishing the first half with the Yanks, of course.) We win 70, and its a fast game, as quick as Pedros twohitter against the Pods. SO And there you have it, a nifty threehitter, with Curtis the Mechanic throwing a lean and clean ninth. So, you think were really going to try for Randy Jo? SK I think wed be fools not to try for him. Hey, what harm? Throw all the lettuce into the Saladmaster, and lets have some World Series coleslaw. We got four, I want some more SO Hey, if John Henrys buying And in a briefly noted roster move, we send nice kid Lenny DiNardo down to Pawtucket and bring up veteran righty Joe Nelson, who didnt pitch at all last year due to injuries. Hes the twentysecond pitcher weve tried in the first half. July 10th Were driving the kids to camp in Ohio, a ninehour jaunt. As darkness falls, were on I90 west of Erie when Trudys cell phone plinks. Its her father, excited about the game Mannys hit two out and were up 116 in the third. Bellhorns made two errors behind Lowe, but atoned with a homer of his own. Later, during the OaklandCleveland game, we hear an update Sox 146 over Texas in the eighth. Teks gone deep, and Nomar. Looks like five in a row, our secondlongest streak of the season. July 11th Coming home, the only game we can pull in on the radio is the Buffalo Bisons and Durham Bulls, and all the way across the Southern Tier we listen to the Indians and DRays minor leaguers (including old Sock Midre Cummings) pay their dues. During a pitching change, the announcers dump the outoftown scoreboard on us. Up at Fenway, it was Texas beating the Red Sox six to five. Shit, I say. Notice that the first stage is anger, not denialthat comes later. The Yankees outlasted Tampa Bay Dammit. I sag back in my seat, defeated. I really thought theyd pay the Rangers back with a sweep, maybe even pick up a game, but no, we win two out of three from a firstplace team and lose ground. July 12th The recap in the paper is weirdly cheery, the writer giving us credit for fighting back, as if that proves the character of the team. We were down 52 in the bottom of the seventh when Doug Mirabelli hit a tworun shot and then Johnny D soloed to tie it. In the eighth, Foulke gave up a run, then in the ninth, Pokey, pinchrunning, got picked off first. Everyone agrees that the ump blew the call, but they also agree that the ball beat him there, it was just a high tag. Shades of Damian Jackson pinchrunning against the Yanks last year and getting picked off second. Its great that we came back, sure, but that makes Foulkes blown hold that much worse. Hes been shaky lately, one reason why the only games we win seem to be blowouts. And Manny, listed on Franconas lineup card, begged off at the last minute, saying his left hamstring felt tight, giving the columnists something to gnaw on. In the wildcard race were still a game up on Oakland, with the Angels and Twins only a half back of them. The Randy Johnson sweepstakes is on. The Dbacks have the worst record in the majors, and Randy Jos forty years old and cant wait for them to retool. The Sox and Yanks are interested, and possibly the Angels. The Unit seems to be having fun with all the attention, saying he cant decide which chowder he likes best, New England or Manhattan. Really, its a nobrainer; Mr. Schill could tell him that. The guys who bring a title to Fenway will be folk heroes. In New York, hed be just another hired gun. I mean, seriously, wholl remember Jon Lieber? Tonights the AllStar Home Run Derby, and Mannys stepped aside to give David Ortiz his spot. El Jefes taken battingpractice pitcher Ino Guerrero with him to Houston as his secret weapon, but cant find his groove. He hits a girder beneath the roof, a titanic shot, but it doesnt count. Hes got five outs on him before he sticks one into the upper deck and ends up with three, not enough to make the semis. Manny jogs over and sticks a Yankee cap on Ino. July 13th Tonight is the AllStar Game, and I find that working on this book has turned me into a kind of ex officio ballplayer in at least one way because my team isnt playing, I have almost no interest in which show horse wins the makebelieve contest.Like the less stellar ballplayers, Im just kicking back, watching some VH1 (also some All My Children reruns on Soapnet) and enjoying my three nights off. Chillin. I had intended to write some sort of midseason summary, and find I have little to write. Thats a good thing. Boston ended the first half winning five out of six and putting all trade rumors (except for that sweetly wistfulone that has Randy Johnson in a Red Sox uniform) to rest. Their wonlost record is almost exactly what it was at the break a year ago, when they went into postseason as the AL wildcard team, and indeed they lead the wildcard race this year by a game (over the Oakland Moneyball boys). But stillthe gloom. Why? Because that Reverend DimmesdaleHester Prynne jazz in The Scarlet Letter isnt just romantic bullshit, thats why. There is a very real streak of dour pessimism in the New England character, and it runs right down into the bedrock. We buy new cars expecting them to be lemons. We put in new heating systems and expect them not just to go titsup but to do it stealthily, thereby suffocating the kiddies in their beds (but leaving us, their parents, to grieve and blame ourselves for at least fifty years). We understand were never going to win the lottery, we know well get that unpassable and exquisitely painful gallstone on a hunting or snowmobiling trip far from medical help, and that Robert Frost was fuckingA right when he said that good fences make good neighbors. We expect the snow to turn to freezing rain, rich relatives to die leaving us nothing, and the kids (assuming they escape the Black Furnace Death) to get refused by the college of their choice. And we expect the Red Sox to lose. Its the curse, all right, but it has nothing to do with the Bambino; its the curse of living here, in New England, just up that Christing potholed I84 deathroad from the goddamn New York Yankees. With all that at work, its hard for the head to convince the heart how good this current Red Sox team isthe front three pitchers are solid, the hitting is fearsome from one to seven (I hate that Youkilis, an onbase machine, is sitting on the bench so much, though), and on a good night the defense is adequate. Terry Francona has shown mediocre managerial skills at best in the first half, but hes also shown a willingness to learn. Sure, the Yankees are the elephant in the living room; at 5531, they are the best team in major league baseball (given their incredible payroll, they better be). But lets brush aside a little of our natural Red SoxNew England gloom here long enough to point that at 4838, the Red Sox are ten games over .500, and that other than the Yankees, only Texas in the AL and St. Louis in the NL have better recordsplus we just beat Texastwo out of three. Now that we have our big guys back and starting to hit the ball, I think well be in it till the very end, be it bitter or sweet. Thats as far as Im willing to go right now, but I think in midJuly, thats quite far enough. When I get the glooms, I just tell myself things could be a lot worse. I could be writing a book about Seattle (3254), for example. Case closed. Its 10 AL in the first inning of the AllStar Game, and Clemens is struggling (Jason Schmidt should have started for the NL, but politics is all). With one aboard, he gets two strikes on Manny. Yankee groupie and chucklehead blabbermouth Tim McCarver hasnt brought up the fact that it was Clemenss high fastball to Manny in the ALCS last year that sparked the PedroZimmer brawl. He doesnt have time now, as Clemens misses his location, serving Manny a thighhigh fastball on the inside of the plate, and Manny lines it into the leftfield seats for a tworun shot. And while this is only a silly exhibition game, its a measure of vindication and revenge. Not a word from McCarver, as if his memory banks have been wiped clean. Clemens gives up 6 runs in the first, and I wonder if batterymate Mike Piazza is telling the hitters whats coming. Speaking of revenge. Later, when the AL lead is 74, David Ortiz outdoes his amigo, going upper deck on former Sox prospect Carl Pavano for a tworun job, sealing the win. Its the first time AL teammates have gone deep since Clevelands Al Lopez and Larry Doby in 1954. Not Mantle and Berra or McGwire and Canseco or even Lynn and Rice, but Ramirez and Ortiz. Im thinking maybe theyll give Manny and David a joint MVP award, but the games being played in Houston (at old Enron Field, with the elder Bush in the front row), and they give it to Texass Alfonso Soriano for his threerun shot, which was just padding at the time. Still, Im proud that we represented, even with Mr. Schill not throwing. And, as I email Steve, after playing on the road throughout the playoffs last year, we can sure use the homefield advantage. SK Yep. Otherwise, I dont care. Whats the comparison between the Red Sox wonlost record for last year versus this year at the AllStar break? SO Last year we were 5538 at the break and only two games back (compared with 4838 and 7 back this year). According to the archives on redsox.com, folks were stoked about our surprising offense (and especially impressed with Theos pickups like Ortiz, Millar, Todd Walker and Bill Mill, and the explosive debut of justacquired Gabe Kapler), though still worried about our pen. We may have blown some lateinning heartbreakers, but the swoon waited until after we pulled within a game of the Yanks in late July. July 15th The newest Randy Johnson rumor has Theo shipping Nomar to Arizona. Its too much, even if we dont think we can resign him. The ideas weird Nomar reunited with his freeswinging pal Shea. Meanwhile, due to league rules, Mendoza has to be promoted to the big club or released, so to make room for him, Theo and Terry send Kevin Youkilis down to Pawtucketunfair. Since Bill Muellers been back, theres no position for him, but it seems a shame not to carry him as a pinch hitter. Tonight its Lowe versus Jarrod Washburn out in Anaheim, a 1005 start. Ive been jonesing for some ball since last Friday, and plan on staying up for it. Last time I did this, Vladimir Guerrero had nine RBIs; I figure this has got to be better. The Yanks have already beaten Detroit, soagainwe need this one. From the start there are problems. Mannys hamstrings bothering him again, so Franconas moved him to DH, Ortiz to first (scratching McCarty) and Millar to lefta shift that leaves us weaker at two positions. Unless his quads still iffy, Trots sitting because Washburns a lefty (weak, since even Dauber was allowed to hit against lefties in 2002), so weve got slightly better defense in right. Kapler proves it in the third, cutting off a ball toward the line, then spinning and gunning speedy Chone Figgins at second. But Millar just cant cover the territory in left. A pop fly down the line falls between him, Bill Mueller and Nomarjust foul. The batter singles on the next pitch, and even though he doesnt score, it means Lowe has to get four outs, and his pitch count is climbing. Hes throwing well, though, not walking people, fighting to the end of every atbat. In the fourth, with first and second and two down, at the end of a long battle on a full count, Figgins lofts a similar popup down the line. Bill Mueller goes hard, Nomar trailing him. Billy realizes hes not going to get there and looks to Millar, whos pulled up, running at halfspeed, and by the time Kevin realizes its his ball, he cant get there. The ball drops a foot inside the line, and Bengie Molina, whos been jogging home out of sheer habit, crosses the plate, and the runners end up on second and third. The TV shows Millar back at his position. Ive been pacing the room, stopping in front of the set for each pitch. Now I lean down and jab at the screen like Lewis Black. Why do you suck so much? Shaken, on the next batter Lowe steps off the back of the rubber with the wrong foot, balking. Mike Scioscias up and out of the dugout, pointing. It should bring in a run, but the ump doesnt call it, and we sneak out of a jam. In the top of the fifth, we get the run right back, but in the bottom of the inning, Lowe tires. With Darin Erstad on second, Molina singles to left. Millar has the ball in his glove before Erstad rounds third, and Erstads just coming off a leg injury, but Millars a first baseman, and his throw is weak and low, bouncing three times as Erstad slips past Tek. Embrees been up for a while, and Lowes over 100 pitches, so hes done. He pitched well enough for a quality start. If he has a real left fielder, the games still 11. Embree should be well rested, but cant muscle a fastball by Adam Kennedy, who singles. Little David Eckstein, who has no home runs, misses one by five feet, doubling off the wall in leftcenter, scoring Molina. Figgins singles to center, and soon its 61. Its midnight, and I think about going to bed, but hang in, only to see Curtis Leskanic groove one to Erstad for a tworun shot. Were down seven runs and dredging the bottom of the bullpen, while the Angels can always call on twin closers KRod and Troy Percival, so good night, nurse. In bed Im still pissed off. Its a demoralizing loss, with little good to point to, and against a club thatif were really contenderswe need to beat. Were now 03 against them, and were plainly a sub.500 club on the road. Were eight back. I try not to overreact. Part of it is that Id been waiting so long to see them play, and they played badly. Its just one game, and its a fourgame set. Pedros going tomorrow. The seasons long. Breathe. July 16th I must admit the second half of the season got off to an inauspicious start last night in Anaheim. The Red Sox, who rarely do well on the West Coast (at least during the regular season), put on a particularly vileshow against the Angels, losing 81. Derek Lowe, although victimized by poor defense behind him (not for the first time this year, either), did not exactly cover himself with glory, either. In other news, the Sox sent down the onbase machine known as the Greek God of Walks in favor of a middle reliever whose last name is Martinez. Any resemblance to the Sox starter of the same name simply does not exist. This could be a long road trip. SK And heres how we start the second half by losing to the Angels (big) and sending onbase machine Kevin Youkilis back to tripleA to make room for a mediocre pitcher. The conventional wisdom once more clamps down. You build an expensive multimilliondollar racing machine and give it to a clodhopping middle manager with a cheek full o chaw. This is dopeyball, not moneyball. Disgusted in Maine, Steve SO I feared the vengeance of the disappointed fiend.Franconastein Now the papers have Nomar going to the Cubs for prospects we then ship to Arizona for Randy Jo. Seeing as were eight games out, all this talk seems frivolous and offtarget. We just need to play better. Now. But the AllStar break is a good time to panic. Houston, right at .500 despite signing Clemens, Pettitte, Jeff Kent and Carlos Beltran, fires exSox skipper Jimy Williams. Seattle, dead last in the West, continues its fire sale of highpriced veterans, tagging John Olerud, one of the best hitters of the era, for reassignmentmeaning, essentially, theyre cutting him, hoping a contender like the Sox will want his stick (and Gold Glove at first) and pick up his salary. Tonights another 1005 start, and despite my history, I decide to stay up and watch this one to the end. The Yanks have already lost to Detroit, Mike Maroth onehitting them, so we have a chance to make up a game. Mannys not starting, andone day too lateFranconas figured out the right lineup Trot in right, Kapler in left, Ortiz DHing, Millar at first, Pokey at second. Its the same lineup Trudy proposed last night before quitting on the game. How much is he getting paid? she asks. Kelvim Escobars throwing 95, Pedro 94. Homeplate ump Matt Hollowell is squeezing both of them, and Nomar takes advantage of it, leading off the second with a firstpitch homer to leftcenter when Escobar tries to get ahead with a fastball down the pipe. Heres how much Hollowells squeezing them in the bottom of the inning, Pedro issues backtoback walks to their number six and seven hitters. With the tight strike zone, both pitchers counts are rising. In the bottom of the fourth, Pedro has Guillen 02 with two down and decides to challenge him. Guillen catches up to the fastball and sends it to deepest center. Johnny goes back to the wall and leaps. Jerry thinks he has the ball when he comes down, but Johnny takes off his glove and flips it to show its empty. Pedro looks tough, despite the umpiring. In one stretch through the middle innings, he strikes out six of his last seven batters (in one cruel atbat, he throws five straight changes to Jeff DaVanon, then gets him on a 32 fastball down Broadway), but with two down in the sixth he walks Guillen, who steals second (thats smallball, running with two out and a decent hitter at the plate) so Erstads single brings him in. Its a onerun game and Pedros thrown 115 pitches. This ones down to the pen. In the top of the seventh, Scot Shields gets a gift thirdstrike call against David Ortiz on a pitch up and in thats been a ball all night. Ortiz turns on Hollowellhes not the first to have words with himand by the time Francona can run out and get between them, Hollowells tossed him. Ortiz wants a piece of him, and Sveum, bench coach Brad Mills and Papa Jack have to help Francona restrain him. Hes still mad when they bull him over to the dugout. He yanks two of his bats out of the rack and flings them in the direction of home plate. They nearly hit two other umps standing on the firstbase line. Its a dumb movehell probably end up getting suspended, and we need his bat. At the same time, Jerry and Sean agree that Hollowells been so bad that it was just a matter of who was going to blow up on him. Curtis Leskanic gets two quick outs in the seventh on two hardhit balls, then gives up a single to Eckstein before being pulled for Embree. Like last night, Embree gives up a hit to the first guy he sees. Its first and third for Garret Anderson, and Im having flashbacks. Hes 1 for 10 lifetime against Embree, but that doesnt comfort me. He grounds to the hole between first and second, a tough play for a mortal second basemanan adventure for a Todd Walkerbut Pokey makes it look routine, and once again Im glad we have him. He could go 0 for 200 and Id still want him out there. Its a fourgame series, and Scioscia wants two innings out of Shields. Shields has his fastball popping, but for some reason tries a curve on 32 to Kapler. It hangs belthigh, and Gabe puts it into the third row in left for his second of the season, and weve got some breathing room. Timlin sets up, with McCarty at first, and gets a brilliant play from Pokey on a chopper, snagging a shorthop a foot from the bag at second and gunning Guillen. Foulkes the recipient of a tumbling shoestring grab by Kapler on his way to a onetwothree ninth. We win, and look good doing it. Im surprised to see its 117 its been a tight game all night, well played if poorly umpired, definitely worth staying up for. The Angels are a good club; it took everything we had to win this one, and thats satisfying. Lets come back and play this way tomorrow. July 17th Saturday night, and by the time we switch over from the hilariously stiff They Are Among Us on the SciFi channel, the resurrected El Duque and the Yanks have beaten Detroit and Wakes given up three runs in the first. Colon walks the bases loaded in the second, but Johnny flies out. Vladimir Guerrero, looking like an MVP candidate, bombs a high knuckler onto the rocks, and its 40. Not only is Manny not playing, Bill Mueller is nowhere to be seen, and because its Wake throwing, Mirabellis catching, meaning (with the shift of Bellhorn to third) weve added Kapler, Pokey and Doug to a lineup already struggling to score runs. A scary play in the fourth, when hefty Jose Molina lines one at Wakes head. He ducks, and it nails him in the back, just above the 9 in 49, and ricochetsstill playablehigh into the air. Nomar snares it coming across the bag for a pop out, but Tims still down. On the replay it catches him solidly, and I think hes got to leave the game, but he takes some warmup tosses and stays in. On his first pitch, Adam Kennedy cranks a flat knuckler into the rightfield seats. In the fifth, Johnny gets one back with a linedrive homer down the short rightfield line, but thats it. New guy Joe Nelson relieves. 57, he features The Vulcan, a breaking ball gripped between his middle and ring fingers so his hand is split like Spocks livelongandprosper sign. In the sixth, Nelson loads them, and Francona, considering this one finished, calls on Jimmy Anderson, who throws two straight wild pitches, then gives up a single to Garret Anderson. Its 81 and 1230, and Im done. July 18th The final last night was 83. All I missed was a pair of solo shots by Johnny and Big Papi. Todays a 105 Pacific time start, meaning I wont have to stay up till onethirty. And Mr. Schills on the hill, though I must say Im getting a little grumpy with the club only winning his and Pedros starts (theyre a combined 131 since midMay). Wake and Lowe have been shaky, sure, but weve also given up 40 unearned runs behind them. Mannys sitting again, with Kapler filling in in left, McCarty at first and Bellhorn at second. Good news, though the Tigers have beaten the Yanks, so we can get back to seven with a win. As the game gets under way, the TV presents us with a mystery. Anaheims a fine team, were a marquee club with a large following, and its a beautiful Sunday afternoon, yet the outfield sections are halffilled and there are empty rows all around the ballpark. Do the Angels fans deserve this team (this day, this game)? In the first, David Ortiz powers one off the wall in leftcenter. Mike Scioscias resting everyday left fielder Jose Guillen, and veteran Tim Salmon cant get over quick enough to back up the carom, giving David a gift triple. Righthander John Lackey, a number four starter at best, strikes out the side, and comes back in the second to strike out two more. Schillings cruising too, and then in the third he hangs a curve to hefty Bengie Molina, who puts it into the leftfield stands for a 10 lead. Lackey bears down, snapping off a curve that gets lefties like Tek and Trot and Bill Mueller; by the fifth hes struck out a seasonhigh 7. Entering the sixth, both pitchers have given up two hits, but Schillings pitch count is rising. With one down, Johnny works a walk. Bellhorn follows with a single through the right side. Maybe Lackeys tired, because his fastball to David Ortiz is kneehigh and in, right where David likes them, and Big Papi golfs it over the fence in right. With his next pitch, Lackey drills Nomar in the elbow. The ump warns both benches, and Scioscia hustles out to argue. Its stupid, since the warning hurts us more than them. Now if Schilling retaliates, he gets tossed. The ump should wait till we even things up, then say, Okay, boys, thats enough. Lackey flags. He loads the bases and gets out of it only because McCarty hits a bullet to Figgins at third. For some reason Scioscia leaves him in, and Kapler greets him in the seventh with a leadoff homer on another kneehigh, 90 mph fastball. Johnny doubles down the line, and, too late, Scioscia goes to Scot Shields. Ortiz singles Johnny in for his third hit and fourth RBI of the day, then scores when Nomar triples off the scoreboard in right. With a 61 lead, Schilling goes after Guerrero in the seventh, blowing him away with a 94 mph fastball down the pipe.


He strikes out the side, like Pedro signing a win. Hes up to 100 pitches, so Im surprised when he comes out in the eighth. He Ks Salmon, then plunks Molina (who hit the home run earlier) right in the ass. Molina looks out at him with both hands openwhats up? Schillings had great control all day, and theres no doubt this ones payback. With the warning in place, the ump should toss him, but, inexplicably, doesnt. Scioscia storms out of the dugout and plants himself in front of the ump, one hand on his hip, the other jabbing the air as he unleashes a stream of profanity we can easily lipread. The ump tosses him, and while its unfairmaybe because its so unfairwe laugh. Timlin closespoorly, opening the ninth by giving up backtoback singles to Figgins and Garret Anderson and a run on a sac fly by Guerrero (about thirty feet short of the rocks), but finally gets out of it with a pair of ground balls, and were off to Seattle to face the terrible Mariners. Manny Ramirez is daytoday with sore hamstrings (any number of sportswriters seem to think hes malingering, but lets see some of those overweight juiceheads get out there and run around left field for a few days) and Tim Wakefield took a fearsome line drive in the back last night, but we split four with Anaheim in their house, and to me thats a great escape. We may even have picked up a game on the Yankees, who continue to strugglego figureagainst the Tigers. Still, the Red Sox look maddeningly lackadaisical, a befogged team of grizzled male Alices in baseball Wonderland. But Schilling was great again today. As my younger son would no doubt say, hes so money he doesnt know hes money. Two more like him and never mind the World Series; the Red Sox would be ready for the Super Bowl. July 19th Another 1005 start, another sleepless night. The Yanks have already lost to Tampa Bay, and when Tek breaks a 11 tie with a threerun bomb off J. J. Putz in the eighth, it looks like well be six back. Arroyos thrown brilliantly, striking out 12 (including 11 straight outs by strikeout at one point), and the only run Seattle scored was due to some typical sloppy fielding. Because Schilling went so deep yesterday, the pen is rested. Embree and Timlin set up and combine to let in a cheapie, abetted by Bill Mueller winging a doubleplay ball past Bellhorn into right field, but Timlin gets a big strikeout with two in scoring position to end the inning. Foulke comes in to close. With one down, he gives up a solo shot to Miguel Olivo. They sure dont make it easy on us, I tell Steph and my nephews. All the other adults have long since gone to bed. Edgar Martinez is next. At fortyone, he cant run, so all Foulke has to do is throw him three low changes and hes meat. Instead, Foulke throws him an 88 mph fastball over the heart of the plate. Edgars been killing this pitch since he was fifteen, and doesnt miss. Johnny and Kapler both leap at the wall in rightcenter, but its gone, the Ms have gone backtoback, and the games tied. Unbelievable, I say. The boys are angry and want Francona to take him out, but we dont have anyone else. Embree, Timlin, Foulkethis is our Ateam. Foulke gets the last out on a long fly to right, then struggles so much in the tenth that the boys quit. Its 115 in the morning and we have to get up early tomorrow. Overall, Foulke throws 41 pitches. After starting the year 10 for 10 in save opportunities, hes 4 for his next 9, and that shaky streak started against Seattle, that Sunday game when Raul Ibanez took him into the pen and McCarty bailed him out in extras with a walkoff job. In the eleventh, McCarty, leading off, gets on on an error. Kapler bunts too hard down third, and they get the force at second. Again, weve got no smallball. Kapler takes second anyway on a wild pitch, but Bellhorn looks at a very wide strike three, and Johnny flies to left. Since Foulkes gone two, we have to bring in Leskanic. He gets behind Olivo 31, and Olivo singles through the hole. Dave Hansen wants to bunt him across. Curtis does the job for him, walking him. Then, in what must be seen as team play in Japan, on the very first pitch Ichiro bunts them over. Francona intentionally walks Randy Winn and pulls the infield in for Bret Boone. On 01, Boone hits a fly to leftcenter. Its deep enough to score the run, so the fielders ignore it and jog in as the ball clears the wall for a walkoff grand slam. Its 145, and Im so pissed off that Im glad they lost, because they suck. (Seeits not we now, its they; the loss is so deranging that for a few minutes I have to separate myself from the team.) They didnt hit or field for Arroyo. The threerun shot by Tek was a gift. All they needed was six outs, against the worst team in the league. I want to blame someone, and the obvious target is Foulke. But I know that closers blow games. Even Eric Gagne blew one the other day. And while its true that the pen hasnt looked good lately, Theo hasnt helped matters by picking up retreads like Anderson, Nelson and Leskanic. Mendoza, who should be covering some of these middle innings, is taking up a roster spot but may never pitch another meaningful atbat in the majors. But Theo didnt give up backtoback jacks. Its just a loss, a brutal, latenight, extrainning loss of a game we should have won, a game we needed (since we need all of them now), and theres nothing to do but eat it and go on. July 20th Its also the kind of loss that makes you nervous the next time the games on the line, and tonight we get a nightmarish rerun of last night when Lowe has to leave early with a blister and Seattle chips away at our 81 lead until its 97 in the ninth, with two on and no out and Foulke sweating buckets. Seattle has 18 hits, including 4 from Ichiro (along with 4 stolen bases), but has left 14 on. Because of last night, I dont believe in Foulke at all. He could give up another walkoff job to Boone here, and Id just shrug. Because Im still pissed off at him (at them). The Yanks have already won, so a loss would drop us 8 back, and I think, fuck it. 7, 8, 9it doesnt matter. If we keep losing on the road like this, we dont deserve to be in any race. Foulke doesnt try to nibble like last night. He leads with his fastball to get ahead, then goes exclusively to the change. He strikes out Boone. Strikes out Edgar. Strikes out Bucky Jacobsen for the game. For an instant, as the ump rings up Jacobsen, Im excited, but I cool off just as quickly. We barely squeaked this one out, and it should have been a laugher, after an eightrun fourth (David Ortiz with a threerun bomb, then Manny going backtoback). Same problem as always no middle relief. Leskanic let two of Lowes runners score. In his one inning, Timlin gave up a run. Nelson allowed two runs and only retired one man. Mendoza sat on the bench and watched. Kim was in Columbus with the PawSox. I have no idea where Theo was. July 21st SO Thanks for the tickets for tomorrow and the weekend. This sixgame home stand is crucial, after the ugly road trip. A bad time to stumble, since the Yanks are faltering as well. Kevin Brown pitched against the PawSox last night and looked good, so he may be back sooner than we might wish. SK Last nights win was just about as ugly as they get. Ill take .500 on the road, especially on the West Coast, but we had a chance to come back 42, and in much better shape. Im reading Moneyball now, and its really a jawdropping book. Lewis asserts, with no reservations whatever, that Art Howe is no more than the ventriloquists dummy on Billy Beanes knee. Which leads me to wonder if that is now true in Bostoni.e., if Terry Francona is the dummy on Theo Epsteins knee. And, if Epstein is following the Beane paradigm, then our team is in middling good shape assuming Theo is planning trades before the deadline. Beane feels good if he can go into the second half of the season six or less back. Still, I dont buy into everything the book suggests, either from the standpoint of strategy, and certainly not from the standpoint of business morality. SO My main argument with Moneyball is that the modest success of the As is based on Mulder, Hudson and Zito, and its pretty much a matter of luck that they came up at the same time and fulfilled the scouts expectations. So many prospects dont, but these three did. Otherwise, the norunning, nofielding, big OBP club has trouble scoring when it doesnt hit threerun home runshey, just like us! Billy Beanes always crowing about his genius, but look at the Twins, whove put together a better, steadier club with even less money. Theyve lost core guys like Eric Milton and A. J. Pierzynski, yet they keep on keepin on. And for a solid club that knows how to play the game, Ill take the smallball Angels any day, even with their terrible starters. SK I disagree. They were a certain type of ballplayer, picked for talent and affordability. And in the case of Zito, the scouts hated him. He was Beanes pick. All that aside, this years Red Sox team is a sick entity right now, and I hate it. I keep going back in my mind to one of those games versus the Angels. Were down by at least three runs, and maybe five. There are two out, and the Angels pitcher is struck wild. There are two on for us and Pokey at the plate. He puts on a heroic atbat, finally drawing a walk to load them for Johnny Damon, who swings at the first pitch he seesthe first motherfucking pitch he sees!and lines out to center. The fielder didnt even have to take a step. Thats just deerintheheadlights baseball. Something going on around here, what it is aint precisely clearbut Im not lovin it. SO Its the twentyfirst, meaning Theos got ten days to close his deals. I think weve got to land a quality arm, probably a starter who lets Arroyo be the middlerelief ace (a huge advantage, since no one out there has a Mendozatype guy, and Nelson and Anderson are firestarters). But Im not holding my breath. Firstpitch hitting is a killer, but Johnny obviously thought the guy was going to groove one to try to get ahead (like Foulke last nightany of those guys swings at that 88 mph doubleAquality fastball and its See ya!). SK I thought of that, but its still a bonehead move. One of the things Lewis points out in Moneyballcourtesy of Bill James and the sabermetrics guysis that batting average goes up seventyfive points if a batter takes the first pitch and that pitch is a ball. He also reminds the reader of Boggs, who always took the first pitch, and Hatteberg, who mostly does. SO What hurts is watching all these opportunities go by, and thats also a product of the OBP thing. Speaking of guys who always took one Roberto Clemente. The AntiNomar. [Nomar is a notorious firstpitch hitter, regardless of the game situation, just as the Great One never swung at a first pitch.] Do you believe were tied for the wild card? Seems impossible, the way weve been playing. Almost wish the DRays would reel off another eleven straight to shake things up. Somnambulism, baby, thats where were at. At least tonight I wont have to stay up till 145 to watch us tank. No, only till the sixth inning, when Tejada breaks a 33 tie with a basesloaded single to left. Pedro, whos been missing his spots all night, nearly gets out of it, but Johnnys throw on Javy Lopezs short sac fly is weak and up the firstbase line, and its 63. Earlier, Johnny misjudged a Tejada liner into a triple, leading to their first three runs, and later, in a whacky play, he relays a David Newhan shot to the wall in center toward Bill Mueller (who started, bizarrely, at second, with Youk at third), but Mannyin another classic Manny moveintercepts it, diving, then relays it to Bellhorn (who started at short), and by the time Mark guns it to Tek, Newhans in with the easiest insidethepark homer youll ever see. Its 84 and the Faithful boo. Melvin Mora follows with a single, and Peteys done. Mendoza throws a third of an inning and gives up two hits, and Malaska has to save him. Then Jimmy Im the Boss Anderson comes on and gives up his usual two runs before recording an out. Its a 104 final, and with the Yanks stomping Toronto, we drop to 8 back. The only Sock who comes out of this one looking good is Gabe Kapler, who made a tumbling catch in right in the fourth, then hit a threerun shot onto the Monster to tie it at 3. The rest of the team looked like theyd gotten about three hours of sleep, which they did, since their plane got in at three in the morning (shades of Opening Day). Meanwhile, lots of roster moves right before game time. Pokey to the DL with a pulled ribcage muscle, Youkilis up from Pawtucket. Joe Nelson down, Malaska up. And to have a backup for Nomar, Theo picked up journeyman shortstop Ricky Gutierrez from the Iowa Cubs. Ladies and gentlemen, your 2004 Iowa Red Sox! July 22nd SK Im off to Los Angeles. Im leaving this crucial home stand to your guidance, and probably a good thing. They looked so mizzable last night, didnt they? Its a daynight doubleheader today, and since Wakes scheduled to start and the Yanks are coming in tomorrow, we cant shift the rotation to cover the extra game. We dont announce a starter till late morning Abe Alvarez, a lefty from doubleA Portland (Jimmy Im the Boss Anderson is designated for assignment). 59, Abes pipecleaner skinny and looks about seventeen. He wears his cap cocked to the side like C. C. Sabathia, but throws softfastball topping out at 88, slow curve, change. He has trouble finding the plate in the first and gives up three runs, two on a Monster shot by Tejada, who is just murdering us this series. Its hotsweaty hot, heatstroke hotand were in the sun. Over the course of the game I buy ten bottles of water for Steph and the nephews. We squirt them in our hats and down our collars and at each other. Hey, frozen lemonade! Hey, sports bah! Ortiz hits two triples, a kind of miracle, but doesnt score either time. Melvin Mora lofts a shot toward the Sox bullpen that Trot has the angle on, but at the last second he gets alligator arms and shies away from the wall, and it goes over. The Faithful boo himvery rare. We also boo villain Karim Garcia every time he steps in. Its his first visit to Fenway since he jumped the bullpen wall during last years ALCS to punch and kick a groundskeeper his buddy Jeff Nelson was already assaulting. Youre a goon, Garcia! we holler. When he strikes out midway through the game, the crowd behind the Os dugout stands and jeers at himmaybe the most satisfying moment of the day. Abe Alvarez leaves with the score 51. He hasnt pitched well, but hes battled, and for a doubleA guy the beefedup Os are a tough assignment. Francona goes to a tripleA guy, Mystery Malaska, who gives up a run. Millar, whos been booed every atbat since he hit into an early rallykilling DP, crushes a tworun shot to bring us within three, but in the ninth Francona goes to Mendoza (our washedup guy), and Mora pounds a tworun bomb to put the game out of reach. All afternoon weve been watching the New YorkToronto score, 00 in the third, the fourth, the sixth. Its been stuck in the eighth for more than an hour, as if theyre purposely withholding it. Now that weve lost, it changes to a 10 Yankees final. Were nine back, the deepest hole weve been in all year, and 26 against the Os. After the game, as were fighting traffic on Storrow Drive and then 93 and 95, the Sox option Abe to Portland, making room for Ricky Gutierrez. Trudy wonders how much they paid him for the guest spot. Between games, Bill Mueller, who went 0 for 5, decides to shave his head for luck like Trot and Tek and Gabe. And the league office informs David Ortiz that hes received a fivegame suspension for throwing his bats the other night in Anaheim. For the nightcap, the Os roll out their kid pitcher with a high number, 61, Dave Borkowski. Gutierrez gets the start at short, Youk at third, McCarty in left. McCartys a revelation. We know hes got a great glove as a first baseman, and an arm that can top 90 mph. In the first, he puts those together, snagging what ought to be an easy sac fly and nailing speedy leadoff man Brian Roberts at home with a perfect onehop peg. It kills what could be a big inning, and in our half, with two down, he slices a basesloaded single to right to give us a 30 lead. Wakes crafty tonight, or maybe the Os are tired. Both teams are listless, and its a quick one. Youk hits a solo shot into the second row of M5. Timlin sets up with a onetwothree eighth, then Embree gets a doubleplay ball in the ninth, and a strikeout to close it. A neat 40 final, and its only 930. Its a win, but losing two of three to the Os before the Yanks roll in is disheartening. Like Steve said, theyre miserable, and Im miserable, and the rumors that well trade Nomar while we can still get something for him are more miserable still. July 23rd The crowd around Fenway before game time is typical of a YankeeRed Sox game more loudmouth drunks, more shutterbugs and gawkers, more shills handing out free stuff, but at eight and a half back its hard to muster any showdown spirit. Call this one a grudge match, with the Sox trying to save some face. WEEIs K posters say SCHILLING IS THRILLING, and we hope he has enough to beat retread Jon Lieber. Outside Gate E, a guys wearing a Tshirt that says DAVID ORTIZ FAN CLUB with a picture not of Big Papi but of Esther Rolle as Florida in Good Times. On the back it has what I hope is a fictional quote from him This is not hot sauce, this is not barbecue sauce, this is the Boston Red Sauce. Steph and I are the first in and man the corner for BP. A lot of the Sox have their kids with them in the outfield, wearing miniature versions of their uniforms. Jeter and ARod throw, and Jeter backs up till hes right beside me. Hes wearing Nike spikes with the logo of the leaping Michael Jordan. Now, the way Michael Jordan hit, I ask, isnt it bad luck to wear his spikes? I wouldnt know, Jeter says dully, as if he doesnt care. After BP, we roll around to the Sox dugout. It takes a while, since the aisles are clogged with newbies and Yankee fans who cant find their seats. They stop and stare at their expensive eBay tickets and then up at the poles of the grandstands, as if having difficulty reading numbers. Keep it moving, we say. We make it to Steves seats in time for the anthem, which is live and not Memorex (as it has been in the past), the proof being the guest Irish tenor botching the wordsthe last twilights gleaming, the rockets red glares. Nice job, Dermot. As the game starts, again I have this sense of letdown. Its Friday night, a packed house, Schilling on the mound against the Yanks, but weve played so poorly lately that its sapped the drama out of the matchup. We still chant BALCO when Sheffield steps in, but halfheartedly. When he takes Schilling out, hooking a Monster shot, all of that changes. Maybe its a sense of fair play, honest outrage at Sheffield getting away with his steroid use, or maybe its just hurt, but for the rest of the game, whenever Sheffield or Giambi come up, we greet them with LIFETIME BAN, LIFETIME BAN and Marion Joones! Marrrriooonnn! Liebers hittable, and in the second Trot doubles in Nomar, then Bill Mueller launches one into the bullpen, and were up 31. Millar tacks on a solo shot in the fourth, and with Schilling only up to 54 pitches, were looking good. In the fifth, Mr. Schill gives up a leadoff single to Posada, then another to Matsui. Enrique Wilson flies one to left that looks like trouble, but it quails and Manny hauls it in on the track. Kenny Lofton follows with a ripped single to right. It should score the runner, except the runners Posada. Trot fires a onehopper to Tek. Posada beats the throw, but Teks got the plate blocked. We can hear the plastic clack as Posada knocks into his shin guards. Tek spins and tags Posadas shoulder, and hes out. No, hes safeump Tim Timmons is calling him safe. Tek looks down at the plate openmouthed with shock. Schilling races from his backup position, pointing. Francona trots over from the dugout. The crowds been booing the whole time, but the arguments quick and civil, Timmons laughing, as if theres no way he could be wrong. Our neighbor Mason later sees the replay upstairs. He was out, he says, but it was a tough call. Yeah, I concede, youd have to be a professional umpire to make it. The run throws Schilling off, and he loads them before overpowering Jeter (who looks lost at the plate) and getting a force on Sheffield. In the sixth, ARod takes Schilling to 32 and then fouls off a few fastballs before singling up the middle. Giambi goes to 32 and fouls a few over the second deck, then walks on a curveball that stays upterrible pitch selection. Posada goes 32, fouls off a couple, then singles through the right side. Bases loaded, nobody out, and Schills pitch count is in the high 80s. He works deliberately to Matsui and gets a hard hopper to Millar at first. It should be a double play, but Millars throw to Nomar is high and off the bag to the infield side, and Schilling doesnt get over to first fast enough. Nomar holds the ball rather than risk throwing it away. 43 Sox, runners at the corners. Formerly washedup Ruben Sierra pinchhits for Enrique Wilson. Schilling has him 02 quickly, and Sierra has to fend off a good inside pitch with a protective swing. Its a nubber down first, a swinging bunt. Millar fields it on the run. It looks like hes got a play right in front of him at home on Giambi, but he glances back at firstSchillings assumed hell go home and hasnt coveredand has to eat the ball. The Faithful boo. When Lofton sneaks a soft double past Millar that McCarty would have stopped, we boo harder. Thats it for Schilling, a frustrating end to a promising start. Usually our defense backs him up better than this, but if he cant get a fastball past the intestinal parasiteweakened Giambi, then he didnt have it anyway. Timlin comes on, and washedup Bernie Williams rips a double into the rightfield corner, scoring two. 74 Yankees, and more booing, curses, then a disappointed (disapproving) silence. When Millar comes up in our sixth, the crowd boos him lustily. He hit a home run his last atbat, Steph points out. You can see Millars pissed off in the ondeck circle, focused, his teeth clenched. He rocks a Paul Quantrill fastball onto the Monster for his second solo shot, and when he crosses the plate, though the kids in the front row do the werenotworthy salaam, his expression hasnt changed. In the seventh, Johnny singles, then scores on Teks double to leftcenter when Matsui boots the ball. Ortiz walks, and weve got first and second, nobody out, and Manny up. So far Mannys 0 for 3 with 2 Ks, but we rise and chant his name, expecting deliverance. He grounds into an easy 643 DP, and the crowd mutters. Formerly washedup Tom Gordon then hits Nomar in the shoulder, but Trot flies to center. Curtis Leskanic comes on in the eighth, causing some consternation, and throws a onetwothree inning. Then Millar (cheered now) leads off with a blast onto the Monster to tie the game, his third homer of the night, and the place is louder than its been since the playoffs. Were watching a great game, fuck the Yankees, fuck the standings. We stand and cheer through half of Bill Muellers atbat, but Millarjustifiablydoesnt come out for a curtain call. Billy singles, and since hed be the goahead run, Kapler pinchruns for him. With nobody out Bellhorn needs to bunt him over. Is there anyone on the bench who can bunt better? No, not with Ricky already done and Pokey on the DL. Bellhorn fouls off two, then hits a weak grounder and has to hustle to avoid being doubled up. Simple fundamental baseball, I say. Little League baseball, Mason says. Johnny doubles. Instead of Kapler scoring, Bellhorn is held at third. We still have two shots at getting him in, but Tekbatting second for some crazy reasonchases a slider from Gordon in the dirt on 32, as does Ortiz, and we go to the ninth tied at 7. Foulkes in to hold it. After several questionable ball calls by Timmons (and no argument at all by Francona), Sheffield arcs one toward the Monster that looks gone. A couple fans in the front row reach down, and it hits ten feet from the top for a double. ARod singles him inits that simple, a poor pitch by Foulke, a good swing by the Mariner shortstopI mean the Texas shortstopyou know what I mean. Its 87 for Mariano Rivera in the ninth. Timmonss blown call at home has been big all game, but its massive now. Mo has no problem getting Manny, Nomar and Trot, leaving Kevin Millar in the ondeck circle. As he stalks back to the dugout with his bat, I call, Great game, Kev, but his face is still clenched and he ignores me. Were nine and a half back and behind the White Sox in the wild card. Thats not drama, thats desperation. July 24th Together the Sox and Yanks have spent over 300 million dollars on their rosters. Is Bronson Arroyo versus Tanyon Sturtze really the best they can do? Todays the family picnic, and its raining at the beach, so all of Trudys aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews are crammed into the one main room of the cottage to watch the game. Theyre lifelong New Englanders from Woonsocket and Westerly, and watching the Sox is like watching home moviesit gives them a chance to remember how Uncle Vernon rooted (optimistic all the way to the last out) or Trudys grandfather Leonard (watching TV with the sound down because he hated the announcers, a transistor radio pressed to his ear, and he would never go to the games). We watch Arroyo get behind hitters, and get behind twozip. I go out to shoot some hoops, and as Im dribbling around, a shout comes up from the house next door Fight! Fight! My nephew Sam comes tearing out. Uncle Stew, theres a benchclearing brawl! We run inside just in time to see the replay. Arroyo hits ARod on the elbow with a pitch insidenothing new Arroyos second in the league in hit batsmen. ARod jaws at him right out of the box, though the pitch wasnt up or behind him; in fact, it hit him on the elbow pad. Tek says something to ARod. ARod says, Come on, and Tek shoves him twohanded in the face, then ducks and grabs ARod around the upper thigh and lifts him, bulling him backwards. The whole room cheers and laughs. What kind of idiot challenges a guy in a mask and shin pads to a fight? Obviously hes never played hockey. The benches clear. Its a harmless scrum except for Sturtze getting Gabe Kapler in a headlock from behinda bad move when youre on the opposing teams side of the scrum. No idea how their starting pitcher ended up by our ondeck circle, but David Ortiz is nearby and wont see his teammate treated this way. He grabs Sturtze and flings him to the ground. In the replay, as they fall, gravity gives Kapler some revenge as his knee lands in Sturtzes crotch. Trot piles on, but by then things have settled, and theyre pulled apart. Teks ejected, as is ARod, and Kapler. Sturtze has a bloody scratch near his ear, but stays in the game. In the dugout, Kaplers pissed. He grabbed me! he shouts, demonstrating. (Later I discover that Kenny Loftons been tossed, though only he and the ump know what he did.) The games on Fox, and the idiots in the booth say that maybe this will change New Yorkers minds about ARods lack of toughness. I keep looking for evidence in the replays (because they show it ten times), but all I see is Tek shoving him in the face and lifting him off the ground. They also say this is a case of the Red Soxs frustrations boiling over, except ARod started it. They run a montage of SoxYanks brawls going back to Fisk slugging Munson after their collision at home. In every clip, the Sox are whipping their asses. When orders restored, the Sox come back over the next couple innings to take a 43 lead. Sturtzes gone and Juan Padilla is on. In the fifth, theres a terrible call on Johnny at second when Enrique Wilson drops a popup in short right and throws late to second for the force. Johnny, whos always a gentleman, says, No! and hes right. Francona comes out to argue, and no doubt hes arguing about last nights blown call at home too, and Timmonss awful work behind the plate. Francona actually gets excited for once, swearing and spitting at the umps feet, and gets tossed. Hes in the clubhouse to watch the Yanks come back in the sixth. Wilson slices a spinning Texas leaguer over third. Posada pokes a low wallball and is meat at second on a perfect throw by Manny, except Bellhorn sets up too far behind second (not expecting Posada to try it) and waves at the inbetween hop. Matsui doubles to put them ahead. Arroyo battles for two outs, but Cairo hits a quail off the end of the bat that floats over Bellhorn, and its 64. Dave Wallace visits the mound. Bernie Williams singles. Brad Mills, as acting manager, pulls Arroyo for Leskanic. Curtis threw well last night. Today he cant find the plate. He walks Jeter (0 for his last million and groveling for a walk) to load them, then walks Sheffield to bring in a run. He goes full on Wilson, who singles to right, scoring two more. 94. He walks Posada, and thats it, hes gone (0 IP, 1 H, 1 R, 3 BB), and Mystery Malaskas on to face Matsui. On 32 Matsui takes a strike down the middle for the third out. Before this, I considered Matsui the most professional of the Yankees, but what is anyone doing taking a pitch on 32 with a fiverun lead? Thats bush, and even in the bush leagues will earn you some lumps. Nomar leads off the Sox sixth with a ripped single. When Padilla goes 20 on Trot, pitching coach Mel Stottlemyre goes to the mound to calm him down (and stall). Padillas way off the plate, as if hes afraid of lefties, and walks Trot. On a 11 count to Millar, Torre interrupts the flow of the game by bringing in Quantrill. Its the old Cuban slowdown, but even in the PanAmerican games, where the umps let you do anything, I cant remember two mound visits on consecutive batters in midcount. After a fiveminute delay for warmups and commercials, Millar singles to load them. On 31 Bill Mueller has a fat pitch to hit but skies it to center for an unsatisfying sac fly. Bellhorn strokes a wallball double, and its 96. Johnny singles to left97. Because Tek got ejected, Mirabellis batting second, and we dont have a backup catcher, so we cant pinchhit Youkilis for him. Mirabelli Ks, and Torre brings in Felix Heredia, who walks Ortiz to load the bases for Manny. Stottlemyre visits the mound again (their fourth visit this halfinning). Heredia goes 32 on Manny, whos hit like crap this series, then misses with a pitch a good foot up and out. 98, and Nomars up, but look, whats this, its Joe Torre plodding out to the mound. Another fiveminute delay while Scott Proctor of the Columbus Clippers warms. Homeplate ump Bruce Froemming, whos built like Violet in Willy Wonka after she turns violet and the OompahLoompahs roll her away, makes it easy for Proctor, giving him a first strike call on a ball nowhere near the zone, and after all the waiting and screwing around, Nomars pissed and just swings at anything (hey Joe, the tactic worked!) and strikes out to end what has to be the longest inning Ive ever seen. One hour and seven minutes, according to Foxs clock. While I think the YankeeCuban National Team stuff is crap, and definitely unsporting, its legal. But its also the homeplate umps responsibility to control the game, and in the rule book theres a powerful clause that says the umpire can penalize any behavior that he independently deems makes a mockery of the game. The classic example is running the bases backwards. I would submit to the league office that the slowdown not only makes a mockery of the game, it makes for bad TV, since thats the only thing the league office seems to care about. Steroids, what steroids? (In other sports, not only are players banned, but their teams victories are retroactively forfeited and their championships taken away, their records expunged. Just a warning, Sheff, in case we ever have a real commissioner again.