Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Mother of All Train Wrecks

American League Division Series - Game 1

White Sox 14, Red Sox 2
White Sox lead, 1-0

The last time the Sox absorbed a double-digit post-season beatdown, they woke up the next morning, went to the ballyard as if nothing had happened, and won 8 straight. I'm just saying.

Sad to say, that's the only bright spot from yesterday's wire-to-wire asskickery. Matt Clement came up tiny, just as he has for most of the season's second half. The offense tried several times to ignite, but sputtered impotently when it mattered. The bullpen, well, the bullpen pitched to its level, which is to say it was mediocre to craptacular. And that, dear friends, is a recipe for a nasty, brutish and short stay in the post-season. (Dead English guy reference in honor of the newly released Calvin and Hobbes compilation.)

I can't shake the feeling that I'm watching the patient die here, that the Sox are simply so spent from the season and the post-championship overexposure that they're just running out the clock, blissfully aware that they've only got to close their eyes and all the stress will go away. Maybe they'll prove me wrong this evening. Maybe monkeys will fly out of my ass.

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