Jon Lester and the streak
A battle’s raging at Fenway.
Between two nations. The United States. And Canada.
And it’s being semi-live blogged. Right here. Right now.
It’s a battle for a 2-game winning streak.
Top of the 5th. 4 to 1. Jon fricking Lester.
But today’s game isn’t just about Jon fricking Lester.
Today’s game is also about Jacoby fricking Ellsbury.
My feelings on Jacoby’s three-run homer can be best expressed by the chorus of the song “Defying Gravity” in Wicked.
I don’t know how to classify this post since I’m sober and enjoying the sunshine between game shots. Seriously. Only half watching the game. That’s because I’m trusting you, Jon Lester. TRUSTING YOU.
It is a beautiful day and I have a porch. And I plan to use it.
But I can’t resist watching Lester pitch… he’s making me nervous today, for some reason.
Sweet. Jon, I’m glad your last name is Lester and not Lackey.
Sunshine. Porch. Tequilla. Blender. But no Margarita mix. I do have lemons. Hmmm…
Right. The game. Coming up on bottom of the 5th.
And Crawford bats. He’s 0 for 2. Surprise.
Make that 0 for 3. Not surprised.
He’s … Crawful. <- get it?
Hi, Destroia. Make Litsch work for it, baby. Crap.
Well, that was fast.
Coming up on bottom of the 5th. And a sunshine break. 3:12.
Yay! A Papi single! I like this laying in the sunshine only to come inside every time something good happens. It’s like the exact opposite of a John Lackey game. 3:27 p.m.
A Lowrie single! Jed, maybe I judged you too harshly. Maybe you’re not a nambi-pambi DL list junkie…
3:28. Maybe I should go outside again with my lemoniquila (it’s this new drink I’m inventing) before Drew messes this up. Crap. Someone at door. Company. Company and baseball games… dangerous combination. Maybe she knows what to do with lemons and tequilla… Hi, Hannah. Yeah, you can’t stay. I’m watching baseball.
A walk?! Loaded bases?! And… crap.
Salty walks up to the plate. Sunshine break. 3:31.
Crap. I can’t do it. I can’t just walk away when the bases are loaded. Crap. Salty. That reminds me. I need salt. Okay, Salty, let’s knock one out of the park.
Come on, Salty… if we can just make it to Jacoby…
YESSSSSS! A single. And a purpose for Salty. A purpose, people. 6-1, baby. With Jacoby fricking Ellsbury at the plate to start the next inning. This shot (which is much more effective and less gross then the lemonquilla) is for you, Salty.
Top of the 7th. Sunshine break. 3:38.
3:43. Daniel Bard makes me nervous. You know, because he’s not Jon Lester. or Josh Beckett. That double play was sexy. Hi, Dustin.
2 outs. Walked onto first. Runner at second. Please don’t mess up Lester’s work, Bardy-boy. One strike. Just one strike. Awesome. Loving you, DB. Well, liking you. I can forgive but I cannot forget…
Of course I care about the Braves, Daniel. Kind of. Um…
I care that YOU care.
You know what would be nice? To see Crawford hit something.
I hate to complain. Really, I do (when it’s 6-1), but we’re hitting. We’re hitting again, Tito! Except for that guy you spent a bazillion dollars on. What’s with that?
And you know what is really, really, really gross? When you blend lemon juice, ice, tequila and brown sugar.
3:56. Come on guys. Do it for America! Show Canada that they’re… um… north?
Oh, look… Carl the Crawdad is out. Crawdad. Crawful. Crapford. What say you, internet?
Hello, inning 8. See, old school Sox fans will remember this is where we screw it up. This is why we, as fans, tend to be slightly… what’s the word… paranoid? Cranky? Frazzled? Because the old school way to lose isn’t by playing a crapcombo (like the entire first week of baseball this year)… it’s by playing kickass baseball, then screwing it up for NO. REASON.
But see, I have new school pep and optimism. So I’m not even thinking about those days. Not even thinking about them.
You know, brown sugar should not be mixed with alcohol.
Hello, Doubront. So we meet again.
Does anyone else think the ump has it out for this guy? Totally a strike.
Okay. Um. Well, that one was fair. Okay. At least two of those were strikes, damnit.
That’s okay. Just six more outs and we have a streak, Doubront. A streak. Do it for the troops.
Another walk?! Why do you hate our troops, Doubront? Why?
Crap. The announcer says “Bobby Jenks, they might use him to close this game.”
No. No. No. No. No. No.
That’s right! Out on third (thanks, Youkie-Bear). Who do you think you are, Jacoby Ellsbury?
4:11. 2 outs.
Bobby Jenks. Oh. My. God. No one reads my blog posts! Okay, several of you do, but CLEARLY not Curt Young.
I’m not being a very good hostess. But it’s okay. Because the girlfriend I am currently hanging out with isn’t actually watching the game. In fact, she hasn’t stopped talking for two innings.
So I think it’s okay if I ignore her completely for these last two innings, right?
Bobby Jenks will be fine. I’m so, so, so confident.
Oh no. The world stopped for like five seconds. My husband was just hit by a pitch. How DARE you, Shawn Camp. How DARE you?! 4:23 p.m.
Ack! Ack! What happened? Gonz scores? Youk scores? And… I… miss… it… crapola.
Was saying goodbye to my friend… and…
I will never let friends inside my house again.
Okay, that’s not true. But I will only be available during commercials.
My phone is ringing. But I won’t answer it. Oh, no…
Okay, guys. Streak of two. Two streak. Hot streak. Winning streak. Let’s go.
What’s a good pun for a two streak? A double streak? Crap.
It’s okay. We’ve got this. We may not have puns, but we do have a 2-streak. Almost.
Dear Bobby Jenks,
Can I call you Jenks? Okay. So, it’s the 9th inning. Which means three outs and we have our FOURTH win. Not one win. Or two wins. Or three wins. But FOUR wins.
Four. Just a few wins away from people at my office leaving me alone.
I know that doesn’t mean much to you, your office is a dugout, but really, after your fantastic failure the other day (one might even call it epic, epic failure), you’ve got to be experiencing some ragging yourself.
So you know what? Don’t do it for me. Don’t throw those 9 strikes just for me. Do it for yourself. Do it for America.
Jenks, do it for me.
Oh. Hi, Dan Wheeler. THIS is what happens when I’m not paying attention, HANNAH.
We… we won. We won?
We are the champions!
We are the champions…
of TWO games!
Back to the happy music…