Thursday, August 14, 2003

Game 120 - Red Sox (or, Down the Stretch They Come)

Red Sox 7, A's 3
Record: 69-51

It's always nice to start the day with a fist pump. Because this game was a 10:05 pm start, and because I'm still catching up on my sleep from the long weekend, I awoke this morning nervous about the result. I showered, shaved, and wandered downstairs to check the ESPN Ticker. I held my breath as the scores rolled from Tennis (I mean, honestly, does anyone in North America give a flying frig about tennis?) to NFL to AL, and then waited some more as the Yankees/Royals (nicely done, KC), Twins/Indians, and Tigers/Rangers scores scrolled by at an agonizingly slow pace. Finally, Red Sox 7, A's 3 showed up, and I tore off a quick fist pump in the general direction of the cat.

'Bout goddamn time the offense reawakened and Derek Lowe kept the team in a game. The flaky hurler only went 5 innings, but he made some big pitches to Erubiel Durazo with the bases loaded in that last inning, throwing three straight nasty sinkers to get out of a 3-0 hole. Manny hit a massive homer to snap a ghastly slump, and Kevin Millar did the same. The bullpen was really good, reaffirming their status as an above-average relief corps. Whoda' thunk that two months ago?


75% of the season done, and the Sox are in a dead heat for a playoff berth. 1 more against the A's and the underacheiving Ted Lilly (an afternoon game, actually, so I'll know the result before I go to bed) before 3 at Seattle. The slumping Yankees, losers of 4 of 5, take on the Orioles. I'd like an order of the same O's team that took 3 of 4 from the Sox, with a side of nagging injuries to Jason Giambi and David Wells, please.

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