Big Time

He did it again.

(photo: AP)

Big Papi had been quiet over the last seven games (5-for-29), but it was only a matter of time before he broke out big again. Last night he had the game-tying and game-winning RBIs in a game that the Red Sox could not afford to lose.

There are players who fail to deliver when the pressure is on, but Ortiz is not one of them - he actually seems to thrive on it. As a DH, he can't save the game with his glove - he knows that the bat is all he has, and he welcomes the opportunity to show what he can do:

"Well, those are situations that I want to get into, when I have those guys in scoring position," said Ortiz. "Then anything can happen -- especially one out, men on first and second, tie game. You had a good pitcher on the mound, but I'll take my chances."

His game-winning hit had Fenway chanting "MVP", but, as ever, Papi was quick to give credit to his teammates, notably Manny:

"He wants to win," Ortiz said of his close friend. "He's very into it. He comes to the field every day with an unbelievable attitude"

and Jonathan Papelbon, who has been lights-out over the last ten games (2 earned runs given up in 13 1/3 innings). Ortiz even went so far as to use the 'C' word:

"That kid, man, I'll tell you; this guy is something else. Somebody said on the TV when I was [swinging the bat], this guy looks like he's been pitching 20 years. Let me tell you, the attitude that he has when he is out there and the concentration ... I tell you, he's going to be the future Roger Clemens of this ballclub. I'm telling you that right now."

So, the Sox are one game behind the Yankees with three to play. Forget about what Cleveland and the White Sox get up this weekend (that's Plan D or F or Z). The Sox control their own destiny here - a sweep would clinch the division, two wins would mean a one-game playoff and one win, well, one win would probably mean "Enjoy the winter and see you in Fort Myers".

I'm not quite ready to start thinking about Spring Training, so enough of my yakkin' - whaddaya say? Let's boogie!

Another Perfect Day

Unless you are looking to get beaten around the head with a Wade Boggs model Louisville Slugger bat, I suggest you don't ask me how last night's AL East games went.

You have been warned.

Too Much Information

This is what was in my head when I woke up this morning:
"S-A-C-C-U-C-C-I ... Saccucci is the name to try",

quickly followed by:
"5-0-8 8-8-0 0-0-0-0 ... Lincoln Mercury of Raynham"*.

I guess that's the price you pay for watching both ends of a day-night doubleheader. Any day now I'm expecting to wake up singing "The wonder of it all...". I think tiredness is part of the reason, but I also think that it's my brain's way of trying to process another 3-run lead that got away.

Just because everyone has said that this race would go down to the wire doesn't mean that the Sox have to follow the script. To be honest, I wish they would just throw the damn script away - I love a bit of drama, but in this particular instance I would be more than happy for the Sox to take a 2-game lead into this weekend's series with the Yankees. They had a chance to move towards that goal last night, as for the first time in about two weeks the Orioles decided to stop playing like a beer-league softball team and put 17 runs up on the board against the Yankees, but the Sox were unable to make it count.

So now we're back to the original script. Neither the Sox nor the Yankees will be more than two games up come Friday, so it looks like we're heading for Act V.

Ladies and gentlemen: please fasten your seatbelts.


* For those unfamiliar with these commercials, imagine the worst jingles you've ever heard, then multiply that by about ten. I'll miss watching baseball over the winter, I'll miss NESN, I'll miss Don and Jerry and Eric Frede, but I won't miss the world's most annoying commercials.

O Come, All Ye Faithful

Whilst surfing the Internet working from home today, I came across this:


I of all people should not be surprised by familiar things in other languages, but it was funny to see something that I've looked at a thousand times transposed into Spanish.

¡Vayamos los Medias Rojas!

I'm Only Sleeping

For once, a rainout worked in my favour: not only was I able to head back to bed at 1am and get some much-needed rest, but I also get the chance to see a Red Sox doubleheader tonight for the first time.

For somebody like me, who for years was used to the rhythm of English football (i.e. one game a week), a September doubleheader is about as good as it gets. Only 10 hours 'til first pitch ;-)

Hide In Your Shell

It's that time of year again, when a degree in mathematics is needed to work out the endless possibilities that this 6-month season of baseball has thrown up. It's a time when nerves are frayed, nails are bitten and - despite the joys of 2004 - one's mind is haunted by the memories of certain light-hitting infielders.

If you were to ask me if I've enjoyed the 2005 season so far, I would probably say that I have. But there comes a crunch time when every game can mean the difference between October baseball and October golf, and 'enjoyment' becomes a relative term. The big picture (a great season despite adverse circumstances) becomes a little blurred as I focus on each crucial half-inning, willing the Sox on to bigger and better things. I want this team to reach the playoffs, not out of some misguided notion of entitlement, but because I've invested more time and emotion than I care to admit in following it over the past six months. And as with any commitment on that scale, I want this relationship to last as long as is possible.

There will be no brash predictions or trash-talking here in the French chapter of Red Sox Nation, since the gods of baseball tend to frown on such arrogance. Instead I will retreat quietly into my protective shell, connected to my fellow fans in only the most virtual of ways. And from inside my little hideout I will continue to do the one thing that I have been able to do all season: cross my fingers and root for the Sox.

It doesn't seem like much and yet, as a fan, it's everything.

Red sums up the feeling best:

It's the single most important week of the season. It's must-win, take your vitamins, have an extra slab of meat with your eggs time. It's coming back home to Fenway, where the grass is greener, the air just a bit sweeter, and everything just seems to go our way.

Ready? Alright.

Here we go.

Beautiful Day

The sun is shining and it's a gorgeous autumn day here in Paris. On my way into work I put some perfect pop on my mp3 player and finally made a start on my backlog of books.

Anything else you'd like to know or talk about? No? Nothing at all?

Me neither.

Not The Same

If anybody had any doubt that the use of steroids (and the accusations of use) are a major embarrassment to Major League Baseball, and that MLB still has no real idea how to deal with the fallout, I suggest we play a little game. It's like those games you find in kids' magazines, where you have to find the six differences between two almost identical images, except in this instance, it's two game reports:

Report #1: ESPN.
Report #2: MLB.com.

See any difference?

Well, the box scores are identical, as are the winning and losing pitchers, but the second report makes you wonder if Bill Ladson was at the same game as the AP reporter. According to the AP (and Thomas Boswell, who suggested that it was almost as big a story as the game itself) there was open hostility to Bonds and nasty signs all over the ballpark, but I challenge you to find either of those things mentioned anywhere in the MLB.com report.

Bonds would like us all just to leave him alone - he says Congress has other things to worry about (hmmm, how convenient...) - but he shouldn't worry, because Major League Baseball has already embarked on a cover-up that would give Richard Nixon a run for his money.

It's one of those days that makes you proud to be a fan of this great game...

Rant And Rave

So, Alex Cora flied out twice with the bases loaded, Edgar made another horrible error (scored an infield hit, but he dropped the ball), Hanley Ramirez got screwed by


[Editor's note: we apologise for this break in transmission. This is due to an infection by the virus W32.penn@ntr@ce, which has caused our server to freeze in "Rant" mode. Our technicians are working to remedy the problem - regular service will resume shortly.]

So, as I was saying, last night the Sox played the game that everyone in Red Sox Nation was hoping for. They didn't just beat Tampa Bay - they kicked the crap out of them in a 15-2 blowout, in which the heart of the order (Ortiz-Ramirez-Nixon-Varitek) went a combined 16-for-20. The four of them combined for 5 home runs and 12 RBIs, 8 of which came with 2 men out, as if the team were trying to prove that it was doing everything but panicking.

A blowout like this is the sort of game that usually sends me to bed early, but last night I stayed to the end. There were a couple of specific reasons for that - I wanted to see if Trot hit for the cycle (he fell a double short) and I wanted to see Hanley Ramirez' first major league at-bat (he got screwed on ball four, ending up with a backwards 'K' in the scorebook) - but more than that, it was to experience a feeling of serenity that rarely occurs when watching the Red Sox in September.

So, please forgive me if I endulge myself a little and enjoy the moment, because I know it won't last.

The ones that you love lead you nowhere

Right now I feel like the submissive partner in some twisted, not-good-for-your-mental-health relationship. Every day I spend far more time than I should analysing my relationship with my significant other, worrying about how they're doing, what I might have done to upset them, how long their temperamental spell of meanness is going to last. And every night, I deprive myself of sleep to come crawling back on my hands and knees, apologising for the things I'd said or thought or even just thought about saying, only to get slapped in the face once again.

Apparently, my significant other is fine:

"We're fine," Boston first baseman Kevin Millar said. "One thing we don't do is panic. One thing we don't do is get negative. We believe in each other ... pick each other up. That's all you can do."

I'm not panicking, but it would be nice to for them to back up their whispered sweet nothings with the occasional show of affection. I'm not asking for the impossible - just a win here and there would be enough.

All I ask

The 4,000 miles and 6 time zones that separate me from Major League baseball meant that there was one single Red Sox this past week that didn't have a start-time with "a.m." in it. Of course, Murphy's Law dictated that the game in question was yesterday's gem at Fenway. I got as far as 7-0 in the second inning before abandoning ship to go watch ER with Mrs. Iain. An hour-and-a-half of blood and guts (and the lovely Abby) just about managed to wipe out the Sox' ugliness. Since the Yankees also lost, the standings remain the same, so I'm with Johnny Damon on this one:

"With the Yankees losing, we can somewhat go out there and forget about this but we need to go down to Tampa and play well."

You heard the man - go forth and sweep...

A life of surprises

That old cliché about never leaving the ballpark because you might see something you've never seen before? Well, there's a reason clichés become clichés, and that's because generally they're true...

Dontrelle Willis completely dominated the Phillies for 8 innings today, taking a 2-0 lead into the 9th inning, before it all went pear-shaped. The Phillies then sent 14 men to the plate in the inning, scoring 10 runs and leaving the Marlins and their fans to look on in disbelief. The Marlins shot themselves in the foot with four errors in that one inning (plus a misplayed ball to center field that was only not scored an error because nobody touched it), and the Phillies scored 10 9th-inning runs for the first time in the club's history.

The play-by-play went like this:

Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Defensive Substitution: Juan Encarnacion remains in the game as the right fielder.
Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Defensive switch from right field to 1st for Jeff Conine.
Top 9TH B:0 S:1 O:0
Jimmy Rollins singles on a ground ball to left fielder Miguel Cabrera.
Top 9TH B:4 S:1 O:0
Jason Michaels walks. Jimmy Rollins to 2nd.
Top 9TH B:0 S:1 O:0
Bobby Abreu reaches on fielding error by second baseman Luis Castillo. Jimmy Rollins scores. Jason Michaels to 3rd.
Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Pitcher Change: Todd Jones replaces Dontrelle Willis, batting 8th.
Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Offensive Substitution: Pinch runner Endy Chavez replaces Bobby Abreu.
Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Pat Burrell singles on a fly ball to center fielder Juan Pierre. Jason Michaels scores. Endy Chavez to 2nd.
Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Chase Utley singles on a bunt ground ball to pitcher Todd Jones. Endy Chavez scores. Chase Utley to 2nd. Pat Burrell advances to 3rd, on throwing error by pitcher Todd Jones.
Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Offensive Substitution: Pinch runner Shane Victorino replaces Pat Burrell.
Top 9TH B:1 S:0 O:0
David Bell singles on a fly ball to center fielder Juan Pierre. Shane Victorino scores. Chase Utley to 3rd.
Top 9TH B:2 S:0 O:0
Mike Lieberthal singles on a line drive to center fielder Juan Pierre. Chase Utley scores. David Bell to 2nd. Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Offensive Substitution: Pinch hitter Ryan Howard replaces Ramon Martinez.
Top 9TH B:0 S:1 O:0
Ryan Howard reaches on fielding error by first baseman Jeff Conine. David Bell scores. Mike Lieberthal to 2nd.
Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Offensive Substitution: Pinch hitter Michael Tucker replaces Ugueth Urbina.
Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:0
Pitcher Change: Ron Villone replaces Todd Jones, batting 8th.
Top 9TH B:0 S:1 O:0
Michael Tucker singles on a ground ball to right fielder Juan Encarnacion. Mike Lieberthal to 3rd. Ryan Howard to 2nd.
Top 9TH B:1 S:0 O:0
Jimmy Rollins singles on a ground ball to center fielder Juan Pierre. Mike Lieberthal scores. Ryan Howard scores. Michael Tucker to 2nd.
Top 9TH B:3 S:3 O:1
Jason Michaels called out on strikes.
Top 9TH B:1 S:1 O:1
Endy Chavez singles on a line drive to center fielder Juan Pierre. Michael Tucker scores. Jimmy Rollins advances to 3rd, on throwing error by center fielder Juan Pierre.
Top 9TH B:0 S:0 O:1
Pitcher Change: Randy Messenger replaces Ron Villone, batting 8th.
Top 9TH B:0 S:1 O:2
Shane Victorino out on a sacrifice fly to center fielder Juan Pierre. Jimmy Rollins scores.
Top 9TH B:1 S:1 O:3
Chase Utley grounds out, pitcher Randy Messenger to first baseman Jeff Conine.

If you're a Marlins fan scoring that, you can add the line: "Thank God it's finally over". In a close NL Wild Card race, this is the kind of game that can take the wind out of the sails of one team and provide unexpected momentum for its opponents. It will be interesting to see what happens in Miami tomorrow night.

Two sets of rules?

I missed this when looking over the scores this morning, so I logged on to MLB.com to see what happened. The Rogers Centre is pretty well miked, so everybody watching could hear exactly what Johnson said to Fielden Culbreth after not getting the strike call on Frank Menechino, and it was pretty clear he said some stuff that you're not supposed to say out there.

The Condensed Game was put together using the YES Network's feed, and I almost jumped out of my chair when I heard the end of a sentence from home town apologist Michael Kay following the ejection. We didn't hear the whole sentence, but the end went something like this: "...throw out Randy Johnson in the middle of a pennant race, that is hard to understand..."

Erm, could you just run that by us again, please, Michael? So, in your narrow little Yankeeography view of the world of baseball, an umpire is supposed to ignore the fact that a starting pitcher came off the mound to 1) argue balls and strikes, and 2) shout expletives in his face, simply because the team is in a pennant race? The umpire did his job, which is more than can be said for Randy Johnson. Be pissed at Johnson for failing to keep his temper in check, but don't start using the old "it's a pennant race - he shouldn't have ejected him" line. What the hell has the pennant race got to do with anything? As far as I'm aware, there is only one rule book, and those rules apply from March through October - there are no special rules for teams in a pennant race, and there are no special rules for the Yankees.

I don't know if Johnson will be sanctioned for yelling at Culbreth. If I were Commissioner, I would suspend him just for being stupid enough to get himself thrown out in the first place, but, hey, no-one's asking me...

Okay - rant over. Please continue talking amongst yourselves.

Words of wisdom

Kristen has a few, erm, words of encouragement for the Red Sox.

This cracked me up:

Manuelito: I'm not sure who you think you're fooling with your disappearing outfielder act but we ARE going to notice if there's a $20 million hole in left field who becomes a black hole of suck at the plate. Dude, you are Manny Freakin' Ramirez. You do know this, right? You can't just...go away. This is not Colorado. We are paying attention. For the love of Teletubbies and gummy bears, start hitting the goddamn ball. Sheeet.

"This is not Colorado. We are paying attention": Red Sox Nation, distilled into a single killer line.

Well, Manny came up in the bottom of the tenth last night with the game tied at 2, one out and the bases loaded. He didn't start hitting the goddam ball - instead, he let the goddam ball hit him. A walk-off HBP. Not sexy, but it's one win closer to the Promised Land.

Don't look now

The Red Sox - through a combination of bad luck, bad injuries and just bad baseball - are a train-wreck of a baseball team right now. And as befits horrible train wrecks, those who pass by are, to a greater or lesser extent, averting their gaze:

• Beth is discussing tomatoes with Edw
• Sarah is "Being Lynn Jones"
• Andrew is musing on the MVP award and the "perfect constitution" that is the MLB rule-book
• Reb is looking on the bright side of life
• Sam is sharing some Rod Allen gems

And me? Me, I'm rooting from afar right now. My heart still belongs to the Red Sox and I'm pulling for them all the way, but it's hard enough watching Johnny Damon throw like a Little Leaguer / Gabe Kapler sustain a season-ending injury on the basepaths / Curt Schilling give up two runs on the first five pitches he throws without adding to the pain by getting up at 1am to do so.

I'll be watching the day game on Sunday, but between now and then, for the sake of my mental and physical health, I'll be taking another couple of days off. Oh there'll be baseball alright, some of it for high stakes, but at the end of the day, I'll still be able to get a good night's sleep.

Wasted Wake

Tim Wakefield gave up one earned run on three hits over eight innings - striking out a career-high 12 in the process - and all he had to show for it was an 'L'.

The Sox are still 3 games up in the AL East, but this one hurt. Wakefield threw one bad pitch all night and that was the ballgame. For the neutral observer, it was a fine pitchers' duel, but it was no fun to be on the nail-biting, losing end of it.

I love this game, but I swear it will one day be the death of me.

Dark day

2:46pm CET, 4 years ago: In memoriam.

Group therapy

Friday's game was ugly - and I mean cover-your-eyes, hide-behind-the-sofa ugly. I sat through all 3 hours and 40 minutes of pain, which were made bearable only by the virtual presence of the members of the Surviving Grady message board.

Given my geographical location, Major League baseball is generally a solitary pastime for me. I can't go to games, and nobody I know would want to come on over at 1am to watch them on MLB.TV, so I'm resigned to pulling up a chair in front of the PC and silently screaming and yelling at the screen. There are, however, certain games which require company, games which will eat you alive if you sit and watch them alone, and Yankee games fall into this category.

Much is made of the Yankees / Red Sox rivalry (too much, according to some), but not all of it is hype. Every time the Sox play, I want to see a win, but this is especially true of games against the Yankees - there's a history with these two teams which underscores these games, be it in April or October. On paper, it's just another notch in the 'W' or 'L' column, but it often feels like much more - the results are magnified, the errors uglier, the home runs more triumphant. This intensity means that it's hard for me to watch these games alone, and so I find refuge on the message board. I have to admit to being a tourist on there - I only stop by occasionally, because watching the game and commenting on it simultaneously means having to have the MLB.TV window reduced down to its smallest possible format, and a 3" window on a 17" monitor is a waste of good space.

I've met none of the people on the message board - it will happen one day, and I guarantee that the beers will be on me - but I read their blogs religiously, and I know that I will find a bunch of people who take these games seriously, people who are as nervous and intense about the games as I am, hanging on every pitch, every bloop single, every call to the bullpen. Despite it being the company of strangers there's a sense of shared experience which makes the game all he more enjoyable when it's a win, and if not pleasant then at least bearable when it's a loss. Of course, even wins can be fraught with tension and issues, but they become our issues, not just mine, and that makes it easier to get through the nine innings.

So, I'll hopefully be back on the message board tonight: it's Wakefield against Randy Johnson. Knuckles and Big Units - the possibilities for innuendo-laden jokes are endless. Bring it on...

Pinto mojo

Baseball Musings' David Pinto has seen walk-off homers by David Ortiz in his last two outings to Fenway. He's going back to Fenway on Thursday - depending on the outcome of that game, I might well see if I can get him to give me some lottery numbers for this week!

Split personality

Whilst watching the replays of David Ortiz hitting yet another walk-off home run for the Red Sox, I was struck by the amazing change that he undergoes as he rounds the bases. He's all smiles as he arrives at home plate (the actual sequence goes: big grin, hat-flip, leap, mob scene):

but here's what he looks like at the plate:

You can almost hear the two of them thinking - Jose Molina: "Oh shit, he did it again"; Big Papi: "Right over the plate - oh man, that ball in goooooone!"

Kristen has a great post on Ortiz, which nicely outlines how he is perceived in Boston and how he is perceived by opposing fans.

I had a conversation with Sebastian (Yankees fan) and Marianne (Orioles fan) this weekend about David Ortiz. My contention was that he was just a giant love-muffin who was undoubtedly a champion hugger who could also hit a piece too. "No," they assured me, "He's fucking terrifying."

"Really?" I said. "I mean, I know he can hit. But he's so smiley and huggy. Is he really scary or just scary good."

"Dude," Marianne said, "If you watch him from an opposing viewpoint, he'll make you wet yourself."

"Huh," I said, "I just kind of want to hug him forever."

"He makes me cry," Sebastian said, "He's so fucking scary."

I'd noticed this prior to last night - the way Ortiz comes to the plate, the menacing "Go on - try to throw it by me" look he has on his face as the pitcher looks in for his sign, the way he spits on his batting gloves and smacks his hands together between pitches, as if to say "OK, now we're ready to rumble".

September is upon us, and the Red Sox are eyeing the playoffs. They have a lot of problems to deal with, but David Ortiz is not one of them. As the pressure mounts over the next three weeks (and beyond) Terry Francona must be truly relieved to be able to write in the no. 3 spot: "The Greatest Clutch Hitter in the History of the Boston Red Sox, David Ortiz, #34".

Labor Day

Kick back and relax - the beer's on Boomer...

First things first

First base is where it's all at for the Red Sox right now - Thursday night it was all Millar, last night it was all Olerud (or The Magic Helmet, if you prefer).

The Yankees lost to Seattle, which puts the Red Sox back 3 1/2 games ahead in the AL East, with Baltimore coming up this weekend. For those of you looking further ahead, the E# is 27: even if the Yankees play way better than they have done so far this season and go 20-9, an 18-12 finish would clinch it for the Sox.

Play of the day

Nope, not Kevin Millar's 2-HR, 3-RBI game - although we like that a lot - but rather Doug Mirabelli's stolen base in the bottom of the seventh inning.

I've watched the play and still can't for the life of me work out how Mirabelli managed to get almost to the bag before drawing a throw from the pitcher. The only reasonable explanation that I can come up with is that Jesus Colome is deaf and blind and that Travis Lee is a mute.

In the end, the stolen base counted for nothing, as Mirabelli ended up stranded at third, but it was worth the effort, if only to see the look of disgust on Lou Piniella's face and to get another gem of a quote from Terry Francona:

''I don't know how they didn't see him," Sox manager Terry Francona said. ''Because I felt him."

How can you not love this guy?

Start as you mean to go on

It's something that minor league players must dream about, that moment when you step up to the plate in your first major-league at-bat, and I'm sure they all have a dream scenario. Sometimes that dream scenario falls flat on its face with a weak grounder to second base, but one in a blue moon the reality lives up to the dream. The only thing that could have made the moment better would have been a come-from-behind grand slam, but I'm betting that Hermida will settle for this line right now:

AB 1
R 1
H 1
HR 1
RBI 4
OBP 1.000
SLG 4.000
AVG 1.000