The sound of one hand clapping

What's that old saying about familiarity breeding contempt?

Newman yesterday summarized the pessimistic feelings that have enveloped many fans. "It is either eat the tickets and the bill, or sell them for face or less and make at least some money back," Newman said.

"To be honest, at this point, I have no interest in going to games at Fenway this weekend and wouldn't mind giving them away for free."

Even stuck this far away from the Sox, I've not stopped watching the games, even in the middle of the night, so I have trouble imagining a situation where I would actually thinking about giving away tickets for free. It's a fact that the Sox are playing terribly right now, but isn't that precisely the reason you should be going to Fenway right now, rather than opting out? This is our team, for better of for worse, and although there's been a lot more 'better' than 'worse' recently, you can't just turn your back when things look grim.

I guess everything is relative. If you live in or near Boston and going to Fenway is a regular occurrence, then maybe it's no big deal to eat those tickets. I've been to Fenway four times, period, so they would hold a greater value for me than the average Red Sox fan. Still, if this disenchantment allows other, more enthusiastic fans access to tickets at a reasonable price, then it's not entirely a bad thing.

I just wish there weren't 4,000 miles of ocean separating me from Fenway.

From bad to worse

Just shoot me, please. Put me out of my misery.

In hiding

OK, I'll admit it - having bemoaned the 4am West Coast start-times late last week, I'm now using them as a handy excuse not to have to sit through the misery of current Red Sox games. This weekend's sweep by the Seattle Mariners didn't quite go unnoticed here, but I have to admit to seeing just one of the three games. The game in question was last night's disaster, but even then I spent the last four or five innings with only half an eye on the game, and the other eye and a half on a book I didn't have time to read on vacation.

You know that things have reached a potential all-time (or at least season) low when a novel about "a Japanese man caught up in a puzzling quest for a somewhat mystical sheep" is actually more interesting than the Sox game du jour.

As advertised

This is the kind of box score we hoped we'd be seeing when the Sox signed Josh Beckett: Beckett-to-Timlin-to-Papelbon: add one to the win column.

Last night it looked like somebody had sneaked into the clubhouse prior to the game and replaced Josh Beckett v.06 (a.k.a. Fat Head) with Josh Beckett v.03 (a.k.a. Young Gun Who Threw A Complete-Game Shutout Of The Yankees. In The Bronx. In Game 6 Of The World Series).

Beckett was almost untouchable, throwing strikes - lots of them - exactly where and when he wanted, which is something we'd forgotten he could do. He had to leave the game in the seventh with a cut on his finger, but until that happened it looked like he could pitch 8 or even 9 innings - up until that point he'd thrown only 70 pitches, including a 4-pitch fourth, which had me wondering if I was having middle-of-the-night hallucinations.

Outside of the obvious headliners - Beckett and Ortiz - huge props should go to Alex Cora for breaking up a double-play in the 7th which allowed the winning run to score, and to the Wily Mo-Doug Mirabelli tag-team, which cut down a run at the plate in the bottom of the same inning. If either of those plays is not made, the Angels probably win the game.

It was a good team performance, with key interventions from the stars and the bit players alike. These one-run games are not good for the nerves, but they are proof that the Sox still have a little life left in them.

Way Out West

West Coast games are God's way of reminding you that, although you enjoy the privilege of being able to log on to MLB.com when you want, life in the baseball desert can still be tough at times: the Sox are on the road, so there's no NESN feed to comfort you and the games begin at 4am CET, when only insomniacs and the truly insane are up and about. Even Red Sox fans find the 10pm ET starts tough, so you can't even comfort yourself with the thought that all of Red Sox Nation is watching the game with you.

It is indeed a lonely time, especially when you're watching the Angels steadily chip away at a four-run lead that looks more precarious with every passing inning. And you realise that you haven't seen the Angels at all this season and have therefore forgotten about their pesky hit'n'run, bunt-'em-over, steal-a-base baseball. And you'd forgotten about this guy, who you don't want to see up at the plate in any situation - no outs, two outs, bases empty, bases loaded - especially since your starting pitching is having trouble finding the strike zone.

So you grit your teeth, hang in there and hope that the Sox do likewise. And, lo and behold, somewhere around 7:20am, when it's just about time to get the coffee on and start thinking about getting ready for work, they do just that.

It's not exactly Game 7 of the World Series, but after the week the Sox have just had, it's enough to put a slight spring in your step and a little smile on your face. One small step for a team, one giant leap for Red Sox Nation (East).

From Here You Can See The Sea

Perspective. Balance. Stability. Sanity. If you're looking for any of the above, click here.

I was disappointed that the Red Sox lost the series against the Yankees - and did so in singularly dire fashion - but it's in cases like these that the 4,000 miles that separate me from Boston are a help rather than a hindrance. I didn't get caught up in the hype prior to the series, which as Beth herself said, was unavoidable:

I swear, right now it feels like this entire region is just going to sink into the Atlantic ocean. The buzz in the air--everywhere--is palpable. It's so pervasive, this subconscious hiss of excitement and apprehension, that it feels like somewhere, Osama bin Laden is out right now getting some snacks for the cave tonight.

And, although getting swept in a five-game series at home by the Yankess felt like getting repeatedly smacked around the head with a very large shovel, I haven't been tempted to jump out of any high windows since Sunday night. I took last night off because I'm actually physically drained from those five games - notably Friday's killer doubleheader - but I'll be back tonight to see how the rest of the season begins to pan out.

Beth goes with wonderful lines from Auden to express how this season might feel:

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

She also references a Globe column by Bob Ryan, which says much the same thing, albeit more prosaically:

The truth is that in this perverted sports climate, the other team is never just allowed to be better, even for a day, let alone a series or a season. No, no. Blame must be affixed. Heads must be severed.

Once upon a time, losing brought a brief period of sorrow. Now it brings rage. The rest of the season, I fear, will not be much fun.

The truth is we need to sit down and figure out what sports are all about. We've lost our way.

This doesn't mean that it doesn't matter, because clearly, to tens of thousands of Red Sox fans across the world - including myself - it does, however much others may scoff. Roger Angell said it best:

It is foolish and childish, on the face of it, to affiliate ourselves with anything so insignificant and patently contrived and commercially exploitative as a professional sports team, and the amused superiority and icy scorn that the non-fan directs at the sports nut (I know this look -- I know it by heart) is understandable and almost unanswerable. Almost. What is left out of this calculation, it seems to me, is the business of caring -- caring deeply and passionately, really caring -- which is a capacity or an emotion that has almost gone out of our lives. And so it seems possible that we have come to a time when it no longer matters so much what the caring is about, how frail or foolish is the object of that concern, as long as the feeling itself can be saved. Naiveté -- the infantile and ignoble joy that sends a grown man or woman to dancing and shouting with joy in the middle of the night over the haphazardous flight of a distant ball -- seems a small price to pay for such a gift.

What it does mean is that mass hysteria is possibly not the most suitable response to a series sweep by the Yankees.

We are forever reminded that baseball is a marathon, not a sprint. If so, then the Sox have just tripped up and fallen flat on their face whilst narrowly tailing the race leader. They may have enough strength, energy and motivation left to regroup and make up the lost ground between now and the end of the race. Or they may not, and this season will go down as a relative disappointment. But, either way, it will be our duty - if not always our pleasure - to stick by them and see how it all turns out.

In the meantime, I really need to get my hands on that Mnookin book. I think it could soothe an aching baseball soul.

"If looks could kill...

(Photo: Getty)

...I'd need a license for my face." Guy in the red shirt.

Song of the day

The guests have gone, so we'll tidy up the room, turn the covers down and gaze at the moon:

Pass the tea and sympathy
For the good ol' days long gone
Let's drink a toast
To those who most
Believe in what they want...

Love letters

Dear Sox,

We've still got a good thing going here - you know, a long-term relationship built on a lot of good times, and a future full of promise. But since Friday you've been pissing me off big-time, so consider my status right now "sleeping on the couch." I'm still here, but I'm gonna do my thing for a little while and let you get on with yours. When you get your act together, we'll talk about a return to the good old days.

Thanks for listening.
Iain

Less is more

I could wail and gnash my teeth and wonder about the impending apocalypse, but instead I'll let The Soxaholix say it in a nutshell.

The sum of its parts

8 hours and 40 minutes of baseball +
27 hits +
15 walks +
15 runs +
0 wins

I'm not even going to comment - it was as ugly as the wrapup says. Round about the 4th inning we entered Bizarro Baseball World, a world in which Tavarez is able to pitch 2 1/3 solid, scoreless innings, but Hansen and Timlin combine to give up 7 earned runs in one single frame.

With a bit of luck we'll stay in Bizarro Baseball World for today's game, meaning Bobby Abreu will suddenly stop hitting the crap out of the ball, Johnny Damon will get a standing ovation from the Fenway crowd and then go 0-for-5 and A-Rod will actually make a couple of good plays at third. If we're really lucky, our starting pitcher might actually bring his balls to the park and pitch eight innings of "Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!" baseball.

It's not to late to salvage the series, but we've really got to to start playing like we know what we're doing out there.

Stat

The only thing that you're going to win if you go 0-for-16 with runners in scoring position is the "Oh My God What The Fuck Are They Playing At?" Award.

Guess who's coming to dinner?

The weekend is almost upon us, and with it comes a huge five-game series against the Yankees. Thanks to the joys of rainouts and good scheduling, three of the five games are day games, so there's a good chance I'll get to see most of the series.

A 5-game series between these two clubs is a big deal at any time, but at this point in the season, it could be huge, both in terms of possible changes in the standings and in terms of psychological advantage down the stretch. Having lost a fugly game to the Orioles yesterday, I can imagine that the Yankees will be coming into Fenway even more fired up than usual. And it will come as no surprise to learn that the Yankee organisation - well, the YES Network, at least - sees this as a huge series too. When Jaret Wright left yesterday's game after 3+ innings, there was definitely a sense of "This does not bode well for the upcoming series."

Personally, I can't wait for the two teams to go at other. It's been a long time since we last saw the Yankees, and despite all that has happened in the intervening period, there are still only 1 1/2 games separating the two teams, so anything could - and probably will - happen. The überoptimist in me thinks we can win four or five, but I'll definitely take three wins for a series victory. However, one should bear in mind these words of wisdom from Red:

I'm going with 3-of-5. If we win with Johnson on the hill, however, anything becomes possible, including a sweep, six Papi home runs, and Tom Waits parachuting into Fenway during Saturday's game to sing "Bone Machine."

Keep your eyes on the sky, folks...

Sad sack

No game today, so I'm reduced to watching the Yankees / Orioles game and rooting for Baltimore. I am officially a sad bastard.

Question for the Fenway faithful

Your club is in a pennant race with just over forty games left in the season, you're in the eighth inning of a one-run ballgame against the team with the best record in baseball, you have the top of the order coming up and maybe a chance to tie the game. Why in God's name would you want to take part in a damn wave?

What is this? Did we all go to sleep and wake up in Milwaukee? Maybe between now and the start of this weekend's series against the Yankees the front office can organise a sausage race or home-run fireworks or some other such ballpark 'entertainment', just in case the above-mentioned game scenario is not enough to keep people's attention focused on the field.

Before you ask - yes, I am tired, and yes, I am pissed off about losing another game to the bloody Detroit Tigers, and yes, I do want to slap Brandon Inge silly every time I see his face on the screen. And if you have a problem with that, then we can step outside and talk about it, OK?

Good, glad that's all cleared up.

Fuggedaboudit

Well, the Red Sox did their public service thing last night, helping the poor old Tigers to snap a five-game losing streak.

This was a game that you never felt the Sox could win. When Curtis Granderson laced the first pitch of the game into right field and took about 2.3 seconds to get to third base, it was like "Uh-oh, it's gonna be one of those games," and it was: Beckett dug himself a hole that he never climbed out of; Manny and Papi couldn't get anything going against Robertson; Rudy Seanez threw a bunch of wicked curveballs for strikes before deciding to serve up a fastball - and two runs - to Vance Wilson; and a potential comeback was snuffed out Dale Sveum-style by DeMarlo Hale in the eighth. Yup, one of those games.

I have no idea what Hale was thinking when he sent Manny - maybe he thought it was Coco out there - but he was out at home plate by about half a mile. There's no guarantee that the Sox would have gone on to score a bunch of runs, so, as Tito said, you can't lay the blame for the defeat at the third base coach's feet:

"I mean, in hindsight, we would like to have Wily Mo in there with the bases loaded," Francona said, "but I think that's the first time all season someone has even asked me about a decision that De[Marlo] made. He has done an incredible job, but sometimes we all try to do a little too much."

That play pretty much summed up a game that was never really within reach of the Sox' desperate grasp. The most coherent reaction I could muster was "Bleurgh", which, for 4:30am, wasn't too bad. Time to forget the game, get some sleep and get back out there in the morning. After all - to coin a phrase - tomorrow is another day.

Good news, bad news

Bad news first: today I was back at work after three weeks' vacation. 'Nuff said.

Good news: Tomorrow is a public holiday, so that helps ease me gently back into the swing of things.

Good news II (via Beth):

You scored as Batman, the Dark Knight. As the Dark Knight of Gotham, Batman is a vigilante who deals out his own brand of justice to the criminals and corrupt of the city. He follows his own code and is often misunderstood. He has few friends or allies, but finds comfort in his cause.

Batman, the Dark Knight 75% Maximus 63% James Bond, Agent 007 63% The Amazing Spider-Man 58% Captain Jack Sparrow 46% Neo, the "One" 46% The Terminator 38% Indiana Jones 38% Lara Croft 33% William Wallace 29% El Zorro 25% Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com

Extra Innings Extra

If you were looking for proof that there is a god - in baseball, at least - then you need look no further than today's game at Fenway.

Exhibit A: Sixth inning, two outs, Sox down by four and Manny - hitless on the day and with his 26-game hitting streak on the line - at the plate. Instead of going after a pitch to try to extend the streak, he battles Chris Britton over 11 pitches to work a walk, which sets up Wily Mo's two-run double and then gives Mrabelli the chance to tie the game with his two-run home run.

Exhibit B: One out, top of the ninth. Brandon Fahy tries to stretch a double into a triple and becomes the victim of Manny's seventh outfield assist of the season. Instead of a man on third with one out, the Orioles suddenly have two out with no-one on. Cue extra innings.

Exhbit C: Bottom of the tenth. Bruce Chen walks the first two hitters he faces, which brngs up Manny for an unexpected fifth at-bat. Manny takes a called strike and then pokes the next pitch into left field, where it's bobbled by Brandon Fahy. Streak extended, ballgame over. Baseball gods smile and take a bow.

The only way that the afternoon could have ended better would have been if Fahy had fielded the ball cleanly to hold Kapler at third and then after two outs Wily Mo had singled home the winning run to complete the cycle, but even I am not foolish enough to ask the gods for that kind of ending. Not yet, anyway - we need to save some good karma for next week's series against the Yankees...

In the nick of time

I spent the last two weeks in almost total ignorance of what the Red Sox have been getting up to, and from what I have read, that's no bad thing. However, in honour of my return to the land of the living, the Sox decided to kick some Oriole ass, which I have to say was most pleasant to watch, especially after a long drive back from the mountains in the pouring rain.

I was doubly pleased with last night's game, as it allowed us to witness the dawn of the "Mike Lowell: Superhero" era - long may it continue.

Today the Orioles send Kris Benson to the mound, against whom Manny has a career batting average of .818. Methinks Mr Ramirez is looking forward to the game...