Game 6 - Red Sox
Angels 5, Red Sox 4
Mostly because I'm full on cheap drafts and exceedingly crappy oversalted "Tex-Mex" hotel food, I come here today to celebrate Josh Beckett. I'm glad he's on my favorite team. He's a cocksucker in the most positive sense of the word. Winning teams need cocksuckers, and the Sox have a few - Beckett, Dustin Pedroia, Jonathan Papelbon, Kevin Youkilis. Mayhaps they need a few more.
That said, would've been nice if Beckett had backed up his exquisite cocksuckery with a few clutch pitches. (I assume if you're reading this, you're aware of yesterday's bench-clearing festivities. And for the record, I'm quite agreed with the consensus that the Angels reaction was completely excusable given their collective mental state. I also have no problem with Beckett's actions, which may place me in the minority.) Bobby Abreu, for all his bendy softness, won against Beckett yesterday, and his 2-run single, in conjunction with the Sox' otherworldly inability to deliver in the clutch, doomed the Sox to another pisser of a loss.
More flinty cocksuckery, less clutch flailing, mmmkay?