Ghosts
As we all know by now, after Aaron Boone hit the 11th inning home run to beat the Red Sox, he was interviewed and said, “Jeter kept saying, just wait till the ghosts show up.”
The Ghosts have started dropping like flies... well, like the ghosts of flies.
We hardly noticed the first ghost fall when Papi laid to rest Bernie Williams' 10th inning shot from '99.
We can draw the Bellhorn/Dent parallel, three-run kill shots from previously feckless middle infielders.
What do Amy Applebaum and Jeffrey Maier have in common? They both said it was a home run. What sets them apart from one another? Amy's parents raised her to tell the truth and Jeffrey Maier is a lying little piece of @#$*.
What do Dan Morrison and Randy Marsh have in common? They both blew the call on a tag out in the base path. What sets them apart from one another? Randy had the good sense to get some help and Dan, well, I don't know about that fella. Of course, let's not forget Larry Barnett's non-call on Armbrister in '75. Barnett was booed upon introduction in the Fens till his retirement, 24 years later.
When the debris started showering down last night I was again back at Game 5, 1999, reminiscing about Phineas T Bluster's outrage, OUTRAGE!, at the behavior of the Boston faithful. And I was reminded of the time I sat in front of an Upper Manhattan couple, the type of people who typically sit in the company's box, who found themselves in the bleachers at Fenway, appalled at how the fans comported themselves. I calmly turned around and asked them to sit in the bleachers at the Stadium and give me a full report.
The larger point is that, while the Yankees have been a great team for a decade now, the fact is that one of the things that propels any dynasty forward is the lucky bounce, the fluke play, the fortuitous call. That's just the way it is. To be sure, the Sox have been the makers of their own misery, but this year they've eschewed high tops and bad calls and weird bounces for clutch hits, heroic performances and goofy calls in their favor.
Last night, after the madness, Matt suggested I must be a mess about Game 7. I'm not. On Saturday I watched the Red Sox become the first team since 1910 to be down 3-0 and win Game 4 in extra-innings, at the time the longest playoff game ever. On Sunday I watched them become only the third team ever to win Game 5, on the strength of the Cookie Monster's second walk-off hit of the day, after being down 3-0, while breaking their 22-hour old record for the longest playoff game ever. Last night they became the first team ever to force a Game 7, riding Curt Schilling's bloody ankle through seven innings of one-run ball. I have grown accustomed to watching them make history.
Derek Lowe has battled all season, struggling to find the touch that had transformed him from an All Star closer to an All Star starter with a 20-win season and a no-hitter on his resume. He's been so unreliable all season that he was supplanted by the Death Wish Kid as the #3. He miraculously pulled 5 1/3 innings of 3-run ball out of his ass last time out, laying the groundwork for the Sox first win of the series. Don't expect to see much of him as the Sox are almost sure to employ the starter by committee approach, with DWK and Wakefield in the wings.
I'll spare you my weekly anti-Brown rant. Earlier today I turned a co-worker and asked, "Are you guys really starting a 39-year old with a bad back, who didn't get to the third inning in his last start, on three days rest?" And Javier Vasquez is your emergency back-up?
Tonight we hunt Boone.
The Ghosts have started dropping like flies... well, like the ghosts of flies.
We hardly noticed the first ghost fall when Papi laid to rest Bernie Williams' 10th inning shot from '99.
We can draw the Bellhorn/Dent parallel, three-run kill shots from previously feckless middle infielders.
What do Amy Applebaum and Jeffrey Maier have in common? They both said it was a home run. What sets them apart from one another? Amy's parents raised her to tell the truth and Jeffrey Maier is a lying little piece of @#$*.
What do Dan Morrison and Randy Marsh have in common? They both blew the call on a tag out in the base path. What sets them apart from one another? Randy had the good sense to get some help and Dan, well, I don't know about that fella. Of course, let's not forget Larry Barnett's non-call on Armbrister in '75. Barnett was booed upon introduction in the Fens till his retirement, 24 years later.
When the debris started showering down last night I was again back at Game 5, 1999, reminiscing about Phineas T Bluster's outrage, OUTRAGE!, at the behavior of the Boston faithful. And I was reminded of the time I sat in front of an Upper Manhattan couple, the type of people who typically sit in the company's box, who found themselves in the bleachers at Fenway, appalled at how the fans comported themselves. I calmly turned around and asked them to sit in the bleachers at the Stadium and give me a full report.
The larger point is that, while the Yankees have been a great team for a decade now, the fact is that one of the things that propels any dynasty forward is the lucky bounce, the fluke play, the fortuitous call. That's just the way it is. To be sure, the Sox have been the makers of their own misery, but this year they've eschewed high tops and bad calls and weird bounces for clutch hits, heroic performances and goofy calls in their favor.
Last night, after the madness, Matt suggested I must be a mess about Game 7. I'm not. On Saturday I watched the Red Sox become the first team since 1910 to be down 3-0 and win Game 4 in extra-innings, at the time the longest playoff game ever. On Sunday I watched them become only the third team ever to win Game 5, on the strength of the Cookie Monster's second walk-off hit of the day, after being down 3-0, while breaking their 22-hour old record for the longest playoff game ever. Last night they became the first team ever to force a Game 7, riding Curt Schilling's bloody ankle through seven innings of one-run ball. I have grown accustomed to watching them make history.
Derek Lowe has battled all season, struggling to find the touch that had transformed him from an All Star closer to an All Star starter with a 20-win season and a no-hitter on his resume. He's been so unreliable all season that he was supplanted by the Death Wish Kid as the #3. He miraculously pulled 5 1/3 innings of 3-run ball out of his ass last time out, laying the groundwork for the Sox first win of the series. Don't expect to see much of him as the Sox are almost sure to employ the starter by committee approach, with DWK and Wakefield in the wings.
I'll spare you my weekly anti-Brown rant. Earlier today I turned a co-worker and asked, "Are you guys really starting a 39-year old with a bad back, who didn't get to the third inning in his last start, on three days rest?" And Javier Vasquez is your emergency back-up?
Tonight we hunt Boone.
3 Comments:
good huntin, boy. it's top of the 11th, i'm a nervous wrecck. will join yall in a few hours, that is, the 3rd...
IC
Congrats.
Of course, if 1986 is an indication, the inevitable WS meltdown will be monumental.
johnny damon rules!!!
brown and vasquez are teh sukc!!!
lisa
translation for bill -
1) johnny damon did a very good job hitting with runners on base.
2) brown and vasquez did not pitch very well.
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