Games 68 through 70 – Red Sox
Red Sox 6, Nationals 3
Red Sox 11, Nationals 3
Red Sox 9, Nationals 3
Record: 42-28
The pesky real world has intruded upon both sides of the MLC family this week – at least Whit’s got an excuse. Me, just overworked, underpaid, and prone to drinking too much after softball games. I also haven’t seen more than a fragment of any of the games that have comprised the Sox’ recent run of success, which is all the excuse I can offer.
In years past, I’d trot out the pseudo-excuse that my bloginterregnum was clearly benefiting the Sox, winners of 6 straight against woeful NL East opponents. Now, hey, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Not that my delicate hands are capable of fixing anything, anyway. Though I did hook up a DVD player earlier in the week, and it works. Wait. Where the hell am I going with this?
Anywhere but towards too much focus on the Sox’ on-field play of late is where. The longest winning streak of the season has been a product of mediocre opposition and solid play from nearly all important contributors – with the massive caveat that Julian Tavarez and Rudy Seanez have pitched themselves right out of that category over the past several weeks.
Rookie stud-in-waiting Jon Lester “Bangs” struck out 10 Nats in 6 innings of 3-hit ball last night, and looks for all the world like he’s the Sox’ no. 4 starter for the rest of the year, regardless of whether the front office thinks he’s ready. Quietly, Theo’s mandate to build the farm system’s pitching depth is beginning to pay massive dividends, with first Jonathan Papelbon and now Lester showing early indications that they’ll be elite pitchers. Craig Hansen and Manny Delcarmen look for all the world like they’ll be called on to carry significant weight in the season’s second half, and even David Pauley held his own in 3 emergency starts in the last month. In a division with significantly flawed pitching staffs, the Sox kiddie corps may well make or break the season.
In sum for this short, rambly, pointless post: winning is good. Life is too busy, and too short to be so busy (that’s a thinly veiled message for a good friend of mine), and I should probably cut back on my alcohol intake.
Not gonna happen this week though, as the Sox and the New York Metropolitans tangle with one another in a few short days. If that won’t spur us to new blogheights, I don’t know what might.
---------
I composed this before viewing Whit's most recent, Willis Reed-esque offering. Suffice it to say that the slagging of the far superior Junior Circuit is noted and ascribed to the fevered imagination of painkiller-addled mind.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment