Misery Loves Company: Two Guys Watch Baseball

Game 126 - Red Sox, or Somewhere, Don Meredith is Softly Singing

A's 8, Red Sox 6
Record: 71-55
AL East: HAH!
Wild Card: 2 GB Oak

In every season I can remember there's been a distinct line of demarcation that defines the date when I believe the Sox season is over. Last night marks that line for this season. They're done. Toast. Fork. Etc. I can't for the life of me figure out why they can't get over the hump, but these two crushing losses to Oakland put the finishing touches on yet another disgusting August swoon. 4-9 in August. 4 and fucking 9! 16-17 since the All-Star break, while Tampa Bay (!) is 19-14.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to give up on the Sox. That would be far too painless and comfortable, and my New England Puritan hairshirt-wearing heritage won't stand for it. And who knows, maybe they'll make a run in late September to forestall their actual mathematical elimination, as they often do. Now, though, I can watch the games safe in the knowledge that they don't matter, that the Sox are not going to the playoffs. So, the losses won't be as tough, although the wins won't be as sweet, either. Sox baseball in August, it's like Prozac.

(I'm not even going to get into the 17 men they left on base last night. That simply wouldn't be safe for my heart or my office furniture.)