4:23. At work. Explaining to someone the tradition that is Tim Wakefield.
So, betting time. I’ve got all my imaginary money on a win. That’s approximately 127,450 imaginary dollars. Imaginary dollars that I was saving for my imaginary boat and my imaginary high-interest mutual fund. It’s all I have left after purchasing my imaginary island last week with my imaginary savings. If I lose it, I’ll be marooned.
What do you think, Soxies? Is today the day that Father Time… um… Father Tim will deliver double hundreds?
See you in a few hours!
6:15. Getting off work. Step closer to being able to watch entirety of actual game…
HILARIOUS story about Alex Rodriguez on Deadspin (thanks, Jeb!).
New York Yankees star Alex Rodriguez played in an underground, illegal poker game where cocaine was openly used, and even organized his own high-stakes game, which ended with thugs threatening players.
Check it out while you tailgate.
7:15. Okay. Carlos Carrasco. There’s something funky about the video on MLB.tv today… anyone else experiencing this? Checkerboards? No? Just me.
Jacoby chops to first. First out.
I wish they would stop spitting in public. It’s embarassing.
This is frustrating already. two outs. Sorry, Pedroia. I thought it was a homer too.
Gonz has an extremely dramatic single. Jacoby would have made that a triple. But whatever. The crowd goes silent as Youkie steps up to the plate. Okay. I may have assisted with the mute button on my computer…
Okay. They’re picking on Youkilis. The announcers say they’re picking on Youkilis. STOP PICKING ON YOUKILIS.
Thank you. With that complete and utter fail, Cleveland, you stopped. And helped my husband have one hell of a double. Okay, sound. You can come back again.
Papi at the plate. This MLB feed is really going to annoy me. I can tell. Base hit! Youkie! Gonz! 2-0 lead. 2-0. I like how this is going. Yes. Go team 200. That’s what I will call you all today. Team 200. Do it for Wake. Do it.
Carl Crawford, buddy, pal, friend, let’s widen the cushion, shall we? Let’s spread out that cushion like a picnic blanket. Like throat coating cough syrup. Like… like a home run.
Out. Okay. Um. First inning. Two runs. Okay.
Top of the second. 7:29. Travis Hafner. at the plate. Strike two.
Youkie in the shortstop spot (????) throws him out.
Carlos Santana who has shifted from catcher to first base? What a weird game.
Okay, announcers. I don’t want to know how well the batters hit against Timmy. This is not helpful information for my pro-200 mindset. You will go on mute again. Mute, I say.
Steeeerike. First K of the night.
Knucklin’. Knucklin’ your way to 200. Knuckleballs look so silly. I wonder how they look coming at your face. Judging from the confuzzled expression on Konerko’s face, not pleasant.
Throws it in the dirt again.
Um. Let’s not do that.
Tim turned 45 yesterday? Why didn’t I know that? I would have thrown a party.
A-Gonz shoves in the out.
7:35. I am so tired, guys.
Bottom of the second.
Not. A. Good. Sign for my awakeness…
Cleveland, I’m sorry your pitcher lost his last five starts. Really. And I’m sorry that tomorrow it will be six. Heidi Watney, I really don’t care about this. Thanks.
Reddick. Base hit. At the wall. Dramatic single. One out. But Joshy on first.
That ball almost hit Baltimore… wayyyyyy on the bottom of the wall list.
Marco Scutaro kind of looks like this guy I went out with this this one time. Not sure why I’ve never noticed that… my, what an awkward memory.
Good swing by Marco Scutaro? Um, Remy, a good swing is going to be when it’s out of the park and we’re two runs scarier.
Full count for Scut. See, I’m not worried- because Jacoby’s up next.
Fly to center… catch. Out.
Whatever, let’s see you, Jacoby.
Ball one. Okay. We can walk there. That’s fine. My computer keeps freezing on ridiculous expressions in the audience. Like this guy in a pink plaid shirt with his mouth open. He is clearly a Cleveland fan.
No offense, Bheise. You would NEVER wear that shirt.
In the air to right. Makes the catch. Ends the second. Okay. That’s fine.
0-2. Top of the third. Tim Wakefield is about to be a badass. You’ll see.
Any minute now.
Pop out. Jacoby’s all over it.
Any minute now.
He just smirked. Was that a badass smirk?
Yes. Yes it was. Second strike out for Tim Wakefield.
That’s KK, for those of you paying attention at home.
Ground ball. Easy out.
And then Scutaro kicks it.
Scutaro kicks it?
Scutaro kicks it.
Bunt. Out at first.
Okay. Scut… you better go shake Gonz’ hand.
Up the middle, base hit for Pedroia… our 5th hit of the night, by the by… on a new 5 game hit streak… Okay.
25 game streak broken by the White Sox. That one hurt.
Gonz tries the bunt. Not so much with the success.
Pedroia tagged out. Pedroia!
“That’s a helpless feeling for a baserunner, when you take off too soon,” announcer said.
Caught stealing. Bah.
Gonz grounds into the shift. Obvious out- but he runs for THAT one, notice.
Shut up, Heidi! Youkilis is batting.
Ball and a strike. I just love the Youk chant. It’s like a moan, really. Ball and two strikes. Two outs. Come on, baby. I believe in you. Want me to clap? I’ll clap. I can do that. Hell, it worked in Peter Pan.
Clearly, you are not Peter Pan. End of inning.
39 pitches for you, Timmy. 40th… a strike. And a fast ball.
Okay. Breathe. 200. 200. Just repeat that. You know. 200 times.
Hopefully this won’t take 200 tries.
Ball bounces. Ridiculously.
Clearly witchcraft. 2-2. Tie game.
Yeah, Salty. I think you SHOULD talk to Tim Wakefield. Maybe you should talk to him longer. NO outs. 2-2. 8:05 p.m.
Wild crazy pitch puts the guy to third.
Okay. Wakey. Okay. Let’s just calm down.
This inning is gross. Let’s start over. Or. Um. End it. Or something. Wake?
52 pitches. Tonight a year ago collision at the plate with Santana? Yeah. Let’s not repeat that. I’d rather Wake just strike you the frick out.
Like he just did. Making it KKK.
55 pitches. Okay. Let’s give that lonely out some friends. Two, to be specific.
Thank you. Sit down.
And, in the announcer booth, we’re talking about Tito bobbleheads. I really, really want one. Is that wrong? Will you buy me one?
“Where’s his finger so I can dislocate it again?”
That’s a bit much, announcer. A bit much.
A bobblehead night?
Doesn’t make the catch- Ortiz stopped at third, double for Crawford. Lovely. Kismet.
Second. Third. ZERO outs. ZERO.
BASES LOADED! BASES LOADED!
But BASES LOADED!
Come on, Marco.
Come on, Marco. Stephen King is watching.
I mean, it’s not a grand slam… but… at least we avoided a double play.
2 outs. Carl at third. Marco at first. Jacoby at the plate. Scut steals.
Anddddd we start the bottom of the 6th with an out.
And about fifteen yawns from me.
And two outs. Blast.
That was a dramatic fail… and we’re on first.
Of course, it may be moot, because Marco’s up.
Out. That was fast.
Top of the 5h. 8:30 p.m., but it feels like midnight. Wake… can you do this quickly? Thanks.
Thanks. 1 out.
Crap. And one on first.
2 outs. Okay. Okay. Guy on second. Whatever, guy on second. Wake promised this would be fast.
First and second. Okay. And Asdrubal is up to the plate.
3 outs. Thanks be to Fisk. I’m so sleepy, guys. So sleepy…
Gonz and Pedroia are trying to wake me up. It’s sweet. Thanks, guys. But it’s not working. Youk is going to load up the bases. He will.
And the fifth crashes. Like I am about to…
Tim Wakefield. Please?
Oh no. Alfredo Aceves is warming up.
Oh no. Wakey, you can do it. I believe in you…
200. 200. 200. 200. 200.
Tim. 200. Tim.
He is stressing me out. Are you watching this? Is anyone watching this?
Tito looks stressed out. And Salty, I hope that’s stress, because you are causing some plate scariness with your not catching.
Okay, One on first. One on second. two outs.
Oh. AND IT IS TIED AT THREE-THREE now.
Tim is gone. And I have this sinking sleepy feeling that this is only the beginning of our journey to 200.
Top of the 7th. I am too tired to yell at you, Randy Williams.
It looked fair to me too, Jacoby. It is 9:20.
3-3. top. 8.
This game will clearly last forever.
Youkie. Fix it.
Ball four. Leadoff WALK.
Tony Sipp. Whatever.
Mike Avilles pinching. This is the first time I’ll really see you in action, Mike. Can I call you Mike? Papi. Oh, Papi. Swing and a miss. ‘Course.
Zero outs, Aviles on first.
Aviles steals second. This Aviles, he’s alright.
Pop out. Papi.
Carl. Can I call you Carl?
Seriously. Ties cause me to lose sleep. Fix this, Carl. Be a buddy.
Out on strikes.
Okay. Um. Aviles is still in scoring position. One out left. So. Um. Salty?
Oh no. Justin Masterson tomorrow. Oh no. I am so conflicted. I loved him so.
Right. Back to the actual game.
13-1 Yankees? Really, White Sox? REALLY?
Salty. Yes. Salty.
This game is stressful. I know what will make us ALL feel better:
The 9th. An out.
Crowd on its feet. Wish we were there.
Hi, Darnell McDonald.
FAIL, Darnell McDonald. Go. Sit. Down.
One out left.
ONE OUT or extra innings. And I can’t stay awake, people.
Jacoby, if you CARE about me at all…
OHMYGOD. You… you love me… you… you really love me…
I love you too, Jacoby. I love you too.
“Just want to try to drive the ball.”
You did, Jacoby. You did.
I love Paps’ victory face. I love it.
“We’re going to compete until the last out,” Jacoby said.
It’s the BEST July ever. Really.
“We’ve been playing good ball. We just have to keep it rolling. We don’t have that big of a lead in the division, so we have to play good baseball,” Dustin Pedroia said Sunday after the Red Sox wrapped up one of the best months of July in team history by beating the Chicago White Sox 5-3.
Clay Buchholz has a stress fracture. As a gal who has had many… they super-suck. And sometimes take awhile to diagnose.
The right-hander was moved from the 15-day to the 60-day disabled list Sunday to make room for new acquisition Erik Bedard, and he will see a back specialist Monday in Los Angeles. If the move to the 60-day DL is dated from when he went on the DL June 19, he will have to miss at least a few more weeks.
Nixing one hypochondriac trade for another.
The initial word that Harden was dealt to the Red Sox led to several predictable jokes about his health. The trade was nixed after medical information was given to the Sox, forcing them to turn to Bedard, a guy with a similar mix of talent and risk. It’s a lot to ask of Mike Reinold and the Sox medical staff, adding a known risk on top of the current situations they’re dealing with.
The Gritty… um… The Gritty-er.
We’ve still got lots of baseball left. Plenty of time for dreams to die…
Hi, Buck Showalter. You have lots of time to read this now that you’ve been banned. Get your Kleenex ready.
“I definitely think they need to go back and do their homework,” said Orioles left-hander Michael Gonzalez, who was suspended three games and fined $1,500 for throwing behind Ortiz on Sunday. “We’re already appealing it. I think (MLB needs) to go back and go through the whole series as opposed to just going through one game and seeing how everything fell into place.”
See, apparently, if you whine enough, you get to play. Gregg and Gonzalez get to play until their appeals are heard. Their whining, you see, has already been heard. A lot. Like a firetruck siren. Ohmyfrickinggod. Oh good. He’s not done.
“They’ve hit (52) guys on the year; we’ve hit (19). We hit one guy with a changeup, and they hit the (four) guys that they hit. So, I don’t know, I don’t agree with it,” Gregg said. “The way the process went down with the umpires, you know, it’s their job to handle the games, keep them under control. That’s their job. I will appeal my suspension and see what happens. There’s not a lot to say about it.”
Right. Because insulting the umpires is a sure-fire way to win an appeal…
“It was definitely frustrating. They obviously lead the league in batters hit. Obviously, a few of those seemed intentional,” Gonzalez said. “They’re hitting our star guys, and you’re going to get frustrated as a pitcher. Those are your guys. It’s kind of a family thing, and they were getting hit. Yeah, anyone’s going to be pretty mad about it.”
Mad about it? Like how Ortiz reacted? Remember how aghast you were at that? I do. I blogged about it.
Ohmygod just pop an anxiety pill already, okay? Stop ruffling your tail feathers. You are an insult to birds.
I am so tired of writing about whining and bitchiness. I feel like I’m writing a gossip column for the barbie pepsquad at a middle school. Jesus, Bucky. I knew you were irritating, but I had no idea your salty tears would flood the world.
Speaking of salty, salty tears… David Price is pitching tomorrow. You may recognize him from my hate list. My, how hate lists change. Don’t worry, David Price, you’re still on it.
On to business. Real business. Damn, it will feel good to play fricking baseball.
“It was an incredible first half, but the most important part is the second half. That’s the one that determines if we’re going to the playoffs or not. Hopefully, we come back on the same page and hopefully the guys on the DL will come back healthy.”- David Ortiz
PS- Oh no! Cleveland just beat the Orioles! Ohio, prepare for a monsoon! Of salty, salty tears.
Thanks to the wet stuff, we’ve got a double header with Buchholz and Beckett at the mound, respectively.
But hey, we also got a rest day. Kind of.
A wet, icky rest day. A much well deserved wet, icky rest day.
And the Stankees? They got another loss to Seattle, Lauren’s new most favorite non-Red Sox, non-Marlins team.
So Red Sox, today I’m going to ask you to play your socks off. Don’t do it for me. Do it for Seattle. And the stankcrushing they have done for you.
Ahhhhhhh… ALE. It’s lonely at the top… but someone’s got to be up here. Nice view, though. I think I can see Cleveland…
We meet this Verlander guy we keep hearing so much about today… I hear he’s okay.
And… oh no… oh no… Jenks could be… back soon…
PS- Super important decision to make. How exactly should I vandalize Jeff-the-Tigers-fan’s cubicle Monday? I was thinking real brooms, but I don’t know if that’s dramatic enough. I might paper his desk in pictures of brooms. I don’t know. But I feel like my conscience is telling me it should involve brooms…
Oh! And Bard has an excuse for sucking lately! (kinda) Wait, when was that sucky game? So, spread the word if you’re in the DC area.
And, by the way, as of 10 a.m., our 4-streak is tied with Arizona as the number one streak in baseball…
Tied for… first? But… didn’t you say that couldn’t happen, April commentators? Didn’t you say that would be… wait… let me make sure I get this right… Orioles? The Baltimore Orioles? Were you… wrong?!
Was that title long enough?
Because I meant to say “were you really-really-really-really-really wrong? And when we said ‘it’s early, sports commentators,‘ and you were like, I’m going to make fun of your hopes and dreams for a few hours on every blog and radio show I can find and inspire your coworkers to leave brooms on your desk, it was, in fact, too early to make broad generalizations?”
So, imagine that’s tacked onto the headline for this piece. And yes, if you’re feeling nostalgic, click on some of those links.
I think the following commercial fits recent Sox activities to a tee. Ahem:
See, Detroit? You’re the kid. And that VW symbol? It’s really a B. And Cleveland, you’re the adult guy at the end. And Jorge Posada, I’m sorry but every blog post is NOT ABOUT YOU!
So yes, ladies and gentlemen, the Tigers were, no doubt, losers. But the real losers this week? Not Detroit. No, not even Cleveland. The REAL losers were sports commentators and bloggers who were making fun of us in April.
And Buck Showalter.
Oh-oh-oh- and Jorge Posada.
And Johnny Damon!
And Dominique Strauss-Kahn!
Wait… what were we talking about again?
Right. The Red Sox.
Go us! The Yankees play at 10:10. Stupid west coast games. Say they manage to lose…
First alone, baby.
So, kiddies, stay up late for me and cheer on our Washington brethren, okay? Because I have to get up at 5 a.m. to shoot a Memorial Day ceremony.
Oh, and could someone ask the rain to stop? Because I want to wear a sundress. Thanks.
PS- April sports commentators, you might find this helpful!
Guys-guys-guys! For the next few minutes at least… we’re tied for FIRST in the ALE! FIRST! And we have 27 wins to the Yankees’ (as of 3:29 p.m. est) 26!!!!!!! Quick! Somebody take a screen shot!
Would it be politically insensitive of me to make a white man small pox joke? Probably, so I’ll refrain. But there was some mad Indian stomping with highlights too numerous to list during the work day.
A THREE RUN homer by Salty. Stellar defense by Lester. 14 runs to their 2. 20 hits to their 7. Sutton has 3 hits. David Ortiz. Doing what Papi does.
Score. Score. Score. Plus 11.
It was a lovely, lovely day to be a fan of the hottest team in baseball.
Soooooooo… instead of pointless analysis, let’s pump up our egos further, shall we? My southernism experiment went so well… let’s do it again. But, instead of talking about how Bard poo-pooed on our parade, let’s pep it up. Like, why Jon Lester, I do declare, you done delivah-ed a sermon on the mound.
Cleveland fans, feel free to participate.
Don’t know what a southernism is? Click here.
Or ask Sports Attitudes.
“I think I won here in the playoffs,” he said, straight-faced. “It’s not my first win at Progressive Field. Those wins (in October) are bigger anyway, aren’t they?”
“Nah, not a big win at all,” Beckett said sarcastically on his way out of Boston’s clubhouse.
How can you NOT love this man?
In less than an hour, the “ace,” Jon Lester hits the mound- and remember how we’re .5 behind? Not if Lester can help it.
Here’s to hoping he can help it! It’s all about execution.
“I’m just not executing pitches,” said Lester of his last outing. “I’m not going to change anything, not going to the drawing board. It’s just a matter of executing pitches. I haven’t done that the last three starts.”
Let’s also keep an extra-protective eye on Pedroia- set to make his first start since the ankle hiccup.
PS- Cockiness aside, who doesn’t love Asdrubal’s name?
PSS- Lackey watch 2011 update: The Lackluster sloth of the mound could be back as early as June 5. What do you think, people? Can Lackey change? Can anyone really change? Once a flake always a flake? Can we learn to trust Slackey? We’ve been hurt before…
PSSS- Jenks watch 2011 update: Never fear, Tito‘s got our backs. Tito says he’ll likely pitch for the minors before being allowed back on our mound. Crisis averted. FOR NOW.
PSSSS- I love you, Jason Varitek.
PSSSSS Having a lousy Wednesday? This image might help. Click here.
And… vintage Jason Varitek takes a ride on the time machine.
We missed you, Cap.
THESE are headlines I LIKE to read.
And that’s just what I found in the first two minutes.
There’s a lot to talk about today. But it’s late/early. And the captain is back.
And right now… that seems like all that’s important…
Captain, there’s no one quite like you… and there never will be…
PS- Thanks for the A-MAZING southernisms. I feel better. Bard can live now.
Keep ‘em coming. I’ll announce a winner… sometime.
#2 in the ALE. .5 behind the Stanks. I’d say we’re gunning for them, but I think the Yankees will Posada themselves no matter what we do…
Is that catching on yet?
I’m not sure how to type the word “south” in a southern accent. They say it in almost three syllables here. It’s like Say-Ow-Th (the TH is totally a syllable, but soft) and fast. Like butter.
Anyway, one of my favorite things about the southern dialect isn’t the southern dialect itself. It’s the things the southern dialect says.
These cutesy sayings. You know, like “I do declare, Youkie-Bear, why, aren’t you just a tall drink of water?”
But not all sayings are complimentary or pleasant.
Like, “Why, Daniel Bard, you just poo-pooed all over our parade.”
Not to be taken literally, of course.
What a horrible parade that will be.
But you get my drift.
So I was thinking… the best way to describe last night is with a southern phrase I haven’t thought of yet.
Something that sounds like a disastrous country song on a Hallmark card of tragedy.
I thought I would get your ideas. So, implore your inner southerner to explain in cutesy southern speak EXACTLY WHAT THE FRICK HAPPENED LAST NIGHT.
You know, like *ahem*: We were just two sandwiches short of a picnic. One fry short of a Happy Meal. Bard’s as full of wind as a corn eatin’ horse. Bard, you could even depress the devil. You’re as mad as a mule chewin’ on bumblebees. We fell harder than a drunk into a tree. The game was so ugly that its mom had to tie a pork shop around its bullpen just so the dog would play with it.
My theory is, that *ahem* just like a cool glass o’ sweet tea (I’m working on it, OKAY?), this will provide cathartic rays of sunshine on our Tuesday.
So, hit the comments and get cutesy.
Because last night? Was SO not cutesy. So let’s fix it with southern sass. SportsAttitudes, I see you being good at this.
Winner gets a prize. It’s called respect.