Thursday, August 30, 2007

Ol' Dirty Bastard

Game 134 - Red Sox

Yankees 5 (and counting), Red Sox 0 (and no chance for even a single tally)
Record: 80-54

I'm in the middle of a doozy of an argument with myself right now. On one shoulder, I've got Kevin Bacon in a military uniform yelling, "All is well. Remain calm". On the other shoulder, Bill Paxton's whining, "Game over, man. We're screwed." And, of course, the former viewpoint is correct, with a 5-game lead and 28 to play - and 18 of those 28 at home. The 4-game annihilation of the White Sox, as it turns out, offered a desperately needed cushion for the Sox. That doesn't make me feel any less like taking a Louisville Slugger to J.D. Drew's kneecaps.

What a shitty, shitty display by the Sox for the entire 3-game set in the Bronx. I've tried for 2 days to work up an equanimity that fits with the still-true facts regarding the Sox' commanding lead in the division, but goddammit, I'm failing miserably. I'm a cranky, disgusted, scowling bastard.

Nice work, motherfuckers. You've managed to make a 5-game lead piss off the entire Nation. That's quite an accomplishment. I'd say that Baltimore should be ready to bear the brunt, but that would mean I was saying something I didn't believe. Douchebags.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh. That feels sooooo much better. Glad I didn't wait to vent. Now you, gentle reader, get to bear the brunt of my lunacy, rather than my wife and kids. Thanks kindly for your service on behalf of stability on the homefront.

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