Stung

(Photo from Yahoo! Sports)

I liked it so much better when we played the Orioles every day. Really, that was fun. And I must again submit my plea to Major League Baseball that hits can carry over so we can take a few of our 23 from Sunday against the O's and put them to better use last night against the Rays who, tiresomely, insist on being a giant pain in the ass. Again. Some more.

Look, I understand that it's all cute and feel good-y and whatever and gosh darn shucks do people like that Evan Longoria kid and all that but more often than not, I feel like I end up shaking my fist at the sky and yelling "Zobrissssssst!" in the manner of not a few of the patrons of this here blog. Because we are enemies, the Rays and I, and Ben Zobrist just has the most cartoonish name with which to express our comic book-like struggle.

But see, we knew this was going to happen. We knew there was no way we were going back to the status quo this season with the Sox and Yankees beating the crap out of each other until only one was left standing. Not after last season. Not after The Ascension of Tampa. They seem to have gotten a taste of that whole winning thing and they appear hungry for more. (You'll forgive me for the dramatic prose but it's Shark Week and I really can't help it.)

Side note: know what's more fun than watching the Red Sox blow it in extra innings to the Rays when the eventual outcome was all but certain? Watching a show about shark attacks complete with bloody stumps, 911 calls and massive amounts of red food coloring.

So the way I see it, I'm glad Shark Week is lasting for another couple of days - right through the remainder of the Sox/Rays series. That way, in case the carnage on the field gets too difficult to bear, I can turn my attention to the animal kingdom variety and make myself feel marginally better by discussing with anyone who'll care to listen how a ray wouldn't stand a chance against a testosterone-riddled bull shark. Don't think I won't do it.