"Hell may have no fury like a woman scorned but heaven hath no sweetness like a sports fan vindicated." - Samcat

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Welcome to the Jungle

Image hosted by Photobucket.com
(photo from Boston.com)

The Giraffe slides!

Here’s what I think: I think Wade Miller has incriminating pictures of everyone on the Sox offense. Otherwise, I’m not sure they’d keep bailing his ass out of jams like that with big bats of their own. I mean, I know you gotta want to win and Eye of the Tiger and all that rot, but dude, your starting pitcher gives up three runs in the first inning BEFORE RECORDING AN OUT, and you gotta be thinking, “Fuck this noise. Let’s go get six-dollar pitchers of PBR at Jacob Wirth’s. Wade’s on his own.” Seems the regulars would petition Tito to throw the B team out there so they could get some rest and take some “medicine” for their “poked eyes,” rather than slug away, trying to dig Wade’s ass out of its considerable hole. But, hey, I’m not a ballplayer. And just because I’m willing to give up on Wade Miller doesn’t necessarily mean his teammates are. I guess we’ll just consider ourselves the beneficiaries of their intestinal fortitude.

Intestinal fortitude which was displayed to no better effect than by a one Mr. Tony Graffanino. Amy came into our shared cube at work this morning and said, “Did they win?”

“Yup,” I said.

“So Wade Miller stopped making girls cry?”

“Nope,” I replied, “Wade tried his damnedest to reduce everyone in six states to tears but Tony Graffanino of all people saved his ass.”


“Uh huh. 4 RBIs, a three-run home run, a stolen base, a headfirst slide, some great defense. He was on fire.”

“Wow,” Amy said, “Dear potential employer. My name is Tony Graffanino and I would like to be considered for the position of starting second baseman for the Boston Red Sox. Please see my resume.”

“Pretty much,” I said.

Poor Bellhorn. I do so hope he’s enjoying the Witness Protection Program.

As for Wade, I just don’t know what to do with this guy. I want to like him, I really do. But he does not make it easy. Possibly he’s self-loathing and he can sense that when he gets through the first inning unscathed (which did not happen last night, mind you), the hearts of New England baseball fans start to warm to him just a little and he can’t have that. So he Hoovers it up for an inning or two making us cry, scream, throw things and dub him “Tic Tac Nuts.” I used to think that Bronson would win the dubious honor of “Pitcher Jason Varitek is most likely to bitchslap with his mask.” But now I’m thinking Wade’s making a strong showing of his own. The guy scares me, is all. And I see him being a real weak spot if we have to go deep into October with him. Although, to be fair, Derek Lowe, a similarly folicularly challenged individual, was a thorn in our sides last year and all the guy did was win the deciding games of the ALDS, ALCS and World Series. Slacker.

Oh, and just for a moment, can we all express our desire to see Bill Mueller recovering from these “back spasms” and back on the field? There’s speculation that he’s injured which is why he made that error the other night, (You know, if that game had happened. Which it didn’t. So…what?). So let’s hope he’s back to form soon. Heh, heh, shut up Beth and Amy. Bill Mueller, back on the field. Want to see it.

Tonight Matty looks to recover from his last start in which he served up hits like they were on Blue Light Special. He faces someone named Joaquin Benoit which sounds less like a baseball player and more like an understudy for a Spanish Shakespearean soap opera actor. I’ll go Matty.