Game 85 – Red Sox
Devil Rays 5, Red Sox 4
Every morning after a Sox game, I scan the blogosphere to take the temperature of the assembled wackadoos and compare it to my own. I hit SoSH, Joy of Sox, Surviving Grady, and one or two others, seeking validation in numbers. Or at least seeking to waste 15-20 minutes.
Most seasons, a middling stretch like the one in which the Sox are currently enmeshed would be cause for great gnashing of teeth and self-flagellation from the faithful. This year, though, the Soxnoscenti are mourning the loss of Hazel Mae, promoting books, quibbling about Jacoby Ellsbury’s slump, and bemoaning Manny’s off-field behavior. In short, doing everything but panicking about the team’s chances.
The team seems to have the same vibe – a laissez faire, let it be backbeat supported by the notion that when the time comes, all they need to do is turn on the jets, concentrate for a few weeks, and they’ll coast into the postseason. That’s a dangerous game, boys and girls, played and lost by better teams than this one.