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

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Can't Win 'Em All

I really have no reason for that picture, other than the fact that it makes me happy like puppies and sunshine and finding $10 in my pocket.

Now, it's not that I'm not unhappy about the outcome of the game. Obviously, I would have preferred to win. I would also prefer to have J.D. Drew decide to pull his weight and not float around on that 0-fer-the-evening inner tube he's got going on there all too often. But, I mean, the way I figure it, the pressure's on the Yankees. They just got smacked around to the tune of 16-0 by the Tigers and find themselves in a now 7 game hole. It's not insurmountable, of course, but it's difficult.

I'm not taking anything for granted as there are always things to worry about. Like, you know, the fact that Manny's back has apparently decided to go fucko bazoo. Which is maybe contagious as Bobby Kielty had some back spasm issues of his own so maybe there's a new rule that no one is allowed in left field without an Outbreak Hazmat suit or maybe an iron lung?

Anyway, tomorrow is a new day and I find it hard to believe that Josh Beckett is going to take this whole series lying down. Especially since he'll be facing off against his idol, Mr. Ass the size of a Buick himself, Roger Clemens. And if there's anyone who will relish showing up his idol, it's Josh Beckett. Which doesn't mean that I don't wish that we could somehow timeshare Trot Nixon back for the day considering how he used to OWN Clemens but I'll take what I can get. Especially since I'm pretty sure Trotter is in Cleveland cheering on his old time bros against the Evil Empire.

Now, did anyone else notice Julian Tavarez and Eric Hinske chatting it up on the bench this evening? What can they have been discussing? Nothing good, I'm guessing. Best way to keep Manny from bringing Tinker Toys onto the field? Color schemes for home hunting blinds? Recipes for people stew? Considering Tavarez's, well, crazy, and Hinske's penchant for always vaguely looking like he's on happy drugs, this is a sitcom in the making. I'm fairly certain people would rather watch that than the next episode of Sox Appeal, NESN. Now get on it.

Back at it tomorrow. Here's hoping Beckett's in a take no prisoners kind of mood.