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Papi, my Papi
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“Obviously it’s not what I wanted to do. Do I want it to be better? Yeah, I wanted it to be better yesterday,” Lester said. “I just have to take the same mind-set that I’ve been taking, the same work ethic that I’ve been doing the past four years and just go out and pitch. I sat here last year and said it’s going to get better eventually, and I still believe that. I don’t think it has anything to do with the month, or the time of year or anything. It’s about executing pitches, and I wasn’t able to do that today.”
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Bad news and more bad news.
Let’s try to focus on the positive, k? Jacoby’s not broken. That’s something.
Did you guys see this load?
Sorry. I forgot. We’re focusing on the positive.
Like how Ortiz made us leap out our seats… just like old times.
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“That was a real good swing,” manager Terry Francona said. “I actually thought he was going to hit the ball out of the ballpark. You’re always looking for reasons to be encouraged.”
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“I just have to keep swinging the bat, man,’’ Ortiz said. “Just battle every day and hope things start to turn.’’
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Here’s for positive thinking: Lackey’s back!
Happy Soxing.
L
Adults don’t have Youk posters on their mirrors.
I am 26-years-old. That’s adult, right? It’s more than adult on paper. It’s practically thirty, really, and thirty-year-olds should have adult dwellings, yes?
As real-life buds know… I just moved into the new house. It’s all mine. (well, half of it. It’s a duplex). It has adult things like a garage, washer-dryer, fenced in yard, creek, driveway, yard…
I have an adult job, adult car payments and now an adult house.
Why then, does it look like a teenager lives there?
It could be the occasional stuffed animal. Or… and this is a big or, it could be the incessant Sox paraphernalia. Seriously, it’s in danger of looking like a college dorm room. It’s bad. And yet, I can’t bring myself to get rid of any of it, even (especially) the pink stuff.
Joel offered some advice while carrying couches for me Saturday- “confine the Sox stuff to the bedroom.”
Okay, sure.
Clippings, old Sox calendar pages with images of Yaz, of Williams… and the Youk. All the Youk paraphernalia. And the hats… the hats. Add that to my adult furniture, my antique secretary with the glass windows… and it looks like Jimmy Fallon took over his grandma’s bedroom.
Whether I confine it to one room or just scatter it like Green Monster vomit all over my house, it’s excessive. And I’m painfully aware of it.
I’m 26-years-old, I tell myself. An adult.
How does one compromise fanhood with style? Because when you walk into my house, I really don’t want you to think a seventeen-year-old lives here. My face and pigtails make my age difficult enough to buy… I get carded at movies, after all… don’t card me in my own house…
Any suggestions?
Tek, Check!
This weekend was good for the spirit… unless you were a farmer. Double losses for Kansas, 8-3 and 8-6, respectively Saturday and Sunday.
Saturday was especially pretty,watching Beckett battle his way (literally) back to the top. Unfortunately- didn’t get to catch it live (moving day! In the new house!), but did catch the highlights… including the five home runs- including… let’s see if I can say it without tearing up- the TWO from Tek.
Even my other favorite guy got play:
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“I believe we have good depth on the team,” said Lowell. “But it definitely feels good when guys that haven’t gotten at-bats have quality at-bats and help score some runs. This was a nice win for us. Hopefully we can finish off the series tomorrow and then we head off to Minnesota on a good note.”
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And finish it out they did…
“It just goes to show if you make pitches, you get outs,” said Beckett.
Bill Hall came out swinging… and swinging. 0-3 yesterday. He did prove himself a triple threat defensively, however, playing shortstop, right field and left field yesterday.
Yeah, Clay gave us a few worries… and Jacoby made me forget to breathe there for a sec… but it just feels good to win again, no? Beckett bombed opening day- and played through 7 innings Saturday… I’m holding out hope for Clay to put his first day behind him.
Tonight’s game marks the premiere of baseball at the Twins’ new Target Field.
Hopefully Lester can pull a Beckett…
In sad news- Lowell? Retiring?!
“No, I don’t [look ahead], because this probably is my last year,” said Lowell.
Hope it’s in a Sox uniform…
L
Kansas, Schmansas
4-3… Kansas?
Problems Defense.
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“It’s tough,” Bard said. “Wake did a heck of a job. (John) Lackey did a heck of a job (Wednesday against the Yankees), and we haven’t gotten them wins. I carry a lot of that on my shoulders. I’m going to keep trucking, not let it affect me too much. I feel like I’m still making pitches. I’m not going to look at it as anything more than that.”
Problems Offense.
Six of Boston’s nine starters are hitting .250 or lower through the first four games.
Oh, Jason Bay…
Okay, that might be a little dramatic. It’s not like our boys aren’t trying…
There is some good news…
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“Francona strongly hinted that backup catcher Jason Varitek [stats] will make his first start of the season tonight…
Francona would prefer that Varitek catch right-hander Josh Beckett [stats] tonight and have Victor Martinez catch right-hander Clay Buchholz tomorrow.”
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Tek’s back, baby. And, we’re assured Lowell will see some play this weekend.
Can Beckett step it up from Sunday?
Can Ortiz hit and NOT be ejected from a game (even thought I’m with him on that strike zone)?
Will JD Drew hit another homer? Will anyone but me notice?
Will I ever forgive Daniel Bard?
Find out tonight in Kansas City.
PS- The Yankees lost. To Tampa. 🙂
L
Same to you, Manny
Manny just can’t get us out of his head.
“He hates Boston more than any other city…”
Move on, Manny. Because we are soooooo over.
Okay- thanks to LEESHA for pointing out the hoax- (I really can’t stop laughing)
But here’s something interesting that’s true- this article on Manny’s next impending breakup.
A strikezone ‘the size of a thumbtack’
By now everyone’s heard about Joe West.
Thanks, Michael, for shooting me the 411 yesterday.
If you haven’t, check out that link from the Times. I think Tyler Kepner sums it up nicely. As does Nick Scala in a delightful column headlined, “Hey, Cowboy Joe, What’s your hurry?”
Joe West, umpire extraordinaire, decided to steal his own headlines yesterday by criticizing both the Red Sox and the Yankees. My favorite part is where he calls the pace “a disgrace to baseball… pathetic and embarrassing.”
I think it’s interesting that his comments came literally hours after some seriously suspect calls by his own, ie: Angel Hernandez. Maybe if Hernandez had… oh, I don’t know… taken more time… we would have had a different ball game Tuesday.
I have a theory that Mr. West has forgotten what we watch baseball to see. Watch him. Watch certain other umpires. Anyone else get the keen idea they think they’re performing for us? That we’re just on pins and needles to see what they, the glorious umps, will do next? Oh, awesome, kids! It’s time for the Joe West show! You know what TV guide would call that show? PATHETIC and EMBARRASSING.
Yes, Stankee-Sox battles tend to swell… but don’t we expect that? We should. This isn’t our first Empire standoff. And look at the commercial breaks! So many of these contests hit national television, and, as Kepner points out, commercial breaks are extended accordingly. That means networks make more money- but it adds to the length of the product.
It’s not that West doesn’t make a good point. Maybe they should be encouraged to move plays faster- but the fact that these comments came from West of all people, and after some exceptionally horrendous umping by Hernandez… I was irked. And I think he could have chosen a few better workds than “pathetic and embarrassing.”
I wasn’t alone. Yankees, players and the fans, seem to have taken particular offense to West’s terminology.
“If he has places to go, let him do something else. What does he want us (the players) to do, swing at balls? … He has a job to do. He should do his job. We don’t want to play four-hour games, but that’s what it takes. We respect and love the fans and do what we have to do, and that’s play our game,” Mariano Rivera said to the New York Post.
The Post warns Rivera should expect a strike zone the size of a “thumbtack” when he meets West next… but consequences aside- what do you think?
Speaking of Rivera- you kids see what he said about Ortiz?
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Take Mariano Rivera. The best closer of all-time said the thought of facing Big Papi in the ninth inning of a close game still makes him uncomfortable.
“David’s always dangerous, always dangerous,” Rivera said before recording his second save of the series. “You don’t want to face him in a tough situation.”
Rivera paused and laughed.
“I don’t know what the big deal is,” he said. “It’s two games. It’s ridiculous – for me, anyway.”
—————————————————————————–
Ignore the part where Tomase calls Rivera “the best closer of all-time,” k?
Oh god, it could all be a ploy.
Keep the faith, Boston, Ortiz is going to come back with a vengeance (I hope).
And… there’s always Lowell…
Tonight’s Kansas City match-up brings back the knuckleballer himself. I’m excited to see what Wake’s going to bring to the mound without his catcher…
Stop nailing rocks at my husband’s head, damn it.
Dear Terry Francona,
Tell me the truth. Is it because I stepped out for those two minutes? Gwen needed a cigarette break. I was gone two minutes. Less than two minutes. A minute and a freaking half, Terry.
Is this Gwen’s fault? Is this the tobacco industry’s fault? Is this my friend Joel’s fault for poking me in the face during the 8th inning?
Curtis Granderson. Oh, Curtis Grandersnake. Curtis Grandersnob. Curtis Grandershit.
No, Lackey outpitched Pettitte. That was fun to see, Terry. Kudos to team Theo. You kids had a plan. And this week, your plan was 1-2.
And Ortiz… oh, I’ve never jumped up and down like that for a single. I think he still has it. I’m keeping the faith, just like you said, Terry..
It was fun to watch for awhile, Terry. You had all the makings of a classic Sox standoff. The characters were there (Hah, Pettitte, Jacoby), the setting, even Nomah.
Where did it turn into a bad Nicholas Cage movie?
Oh, Paps…
What is going on with him, Terry? It’s okay. You can tell me. Is it trouble at home? Is it the pollen? Is it because I’m not in Boston? It’s because I’m not in Boston, isn’t it? Is it because I wore a sundress instead of my Yankee-hater shirt? Because my friend Melanie said I looked cute in the sundress.
And did you see that ass nail a rock at my husband?
No wonder he was hitless! A ball caught him in the freaking head.
And WHAT is up with JD Drew? That’s a problem. That’s a big problem. Do you know that’s a problem, Terry? Are we on the same page here?
You know who I miss? Jason Bay.
Yeah, the Mets lost last night… (to the Marlins. Yay) but their opening day was pretty… and I couldn’t have been the only one wishing he was up next in the batting order last night. He misses us too. I can tell.
Excuse me, I have “Break” by the Script in my head for some reason…
How’s he doing, Terry? Did he ask about me?
At least it’s an off day. Because I need a day.
Could you work on your pep talks? Get up with that Sacco kid. Bet he’s got some ideas. Find out whatever they said to Park before shoving him to the mound, then get Sacco to say it in his “Screw ’em” voice.
Thanks,
Lauren
PS: Have you read this? Can you confirm or deny? Is Jason Varitek still alive? Thanks.
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You know what would make us feel better? I know what would make us feel better.
In the grand scheme of things, it’s just two games. Two games against the Stankees’ offense. That’s about as rock hard as it gets. It will only get better from here. And, the next time we meet, we’ll have a lot more to talk about, Yanks.
In other news, Red Sox just surpassed the Mets in over-all value, says Forbes Magazine.
Go Posada yourself.
So, the Sox Posada-ed themselves last night. 6-4 Stankees.
Is my verb catching on yet?
It might be an easier sell if Trunkneck would err in his offense.
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Let’s see, last night I…
Watched the majority of the game by myself at an unfriendly bar… friends were an hour late… then they had to leave in the bottom of an unfriendly 8th, leaving me with a half a pitcher of beer and a poor temperament.
Almost threw mustard and a mason jar at this guy who thought he was being clever but was actually just being a cookie cutter Braves fan (sorry, Alice)… and probably didn’t know the difference between NL and AL, because he said something weird about Curt Schilling.
Won $5 from drunk guy at bar who said, “no, he won’t steal. It’s too early in the game.”
Was laughed at for jumping up and down by myself in the first inning.
Was laughed at for screaming across bar at television by myself in subsequent innings.
Was schmoozed by drunk ass at bar who thought that, because he was familiar with swanky terms like “Bambino” and knew what happened in 1986 that we were soul mates. For the sake of organization, let’s call creepo Pancakelips.
Was asked not to be offended when subject of foiled mason jar attempt “explained” to me that even I could “clearly see” the Sox win Sunday had been a fluke, and, “come on, really, if someone had told you Beckett would have bombed, would you have still predicted a win?” “Yes,” I say, “I believe in Youk-driven offense.” “Yeah, well, you’re obviously not a real Sox fan. Real Sox fans believe in the pitching staff,” he says. (that’s when condiment incident #2 happened. Or didn’t happen. Thanks to careful intervention by Bartender Don.)
Texted wayyyy too many Sox fans to make up for the giant empty chairs next to me.
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I REALLY need to meet some Sox fans.
My friend Nicole and I are going to start a club. But that’s irrelevant unless you live on the mountain… do you? Please say you do…
Lessons: Beware your pitching staff.
That’s right, folks. As I (ahem!) predicted, our defense isn’t what it appeared to be last week. Anyone else wonder where Lester was last night?
With the Beckett contract extension, the Sox should be set, right? At least that’s what was touted earlier this week. The trio of Beckett, Lackey and Lester is supposed to dazzle us, right? We’re 2 out of 3 and I’m not dazzled.
First innings, at least, go well…
An interesting tidbit- Lester has started Boston’s second game of the season three times and has yet to make it past five innings in those games- a 0-2 record with a 9.00 ERA.
Ortiz, Ortiz, Ortiz. We talked about this, remember? Remember than time last year… when you were in a slump and I said, “Okay, Papi, you hit this out of the park and I name my first kid after you?”
Well, there’s a puppy named Elliott Ortiz who proves you still had it. Get it back. I know it’s only two games… but after last year… get it back!
And JD Drew- okay, I let you slide on Sunday, but seriously, where is your bat? My husband can’t do it alone…
Scut. 😦
Finally- umpires- Really? Let a few slide Sunday because, after all, we did win… but check this visual of the exchange between Okajima and Nick Johnson.
Shows a clear strike out- unless, of course, you’re home plate umpire Angel Hernandez.
Silver soxy lining- Jacoby! He’s fun to watch, free tacos or no free tacos. And, thanks to an obnoxious idiot at the bar last night, he won me $5, so I can’t complain. There was serious speculation about his hitting abilities Sunday- but I think he stood out last night with that double steal. He’s the guy you want on base- because you know he’ll advance no matter what, and you know he’ll be a hell of a lot of fun to watch as he’s running.
And, okay, Victor Martinez… that guy I want to dislike because my poor Tekky’s in a dugout… yeah, okay… he was kind of awesome…
Keep those Yankee jokes coming. Surely you can think of some by now…
Here’s hoping Lackey’s worth the salary!
Yours,
L
Dear Terry Francona,
Please share this with your pitching staff. When your pitcher starts hitting batters with fastballs and walking Yankees into runs, pull him sooner. PS- Maybe you could get Masterson back if you traded both Okajima AND Delcarmen. Food for thought. Share with Theo. You can pretend it’s your idea.
And perhaps Ortiz and Lowell could trade places for awhile? Thanks.
Yours,
Lauren
How evil is your empire?
Okay, new goal: to come up with 100 decent Yankee jokes by next B-Y series. Let’s use tonight as inspiration, shall we?
Here’s some suggestions to get you started:
How many Yankees does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
It doesn’t matter. They don’t know what electricity is.
What is the first thing a Yankee girl does when she wakes up the morning?
Walks home.
Why don’t the Yankees have batgirls on the field?
They would be too busy grazing.
I know you can do better than that.
Shoot your jokes to me at ohnolauren@gmail.com or head to the comment section.
And, if watching Posada’s carotid artery throb out of his neck tonight doesn’t do it for you, check out this tidbit from today’s USA TODAY on payrolls for added motivation:
The only Sock in the top 25? That would be Lackey at #12. Thanks to Joy of Sox for alerting me to this little gem.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be…
~L
Fever Pitchin’
Being a Sox fan isn’t all “Sweet Caroline.”
Especially if you’re a girl.
Especially if you live in North Carolina.
I’m going to take advantage of the off-day to let you in on something that shocked me. Apparently, guys don’t like talking about sports.
Really.
Met a guy at a party. Guy had on Sox hat. Sox hat was sole reason for talking to guy (big ears).
Guy says, “I’m a Sox fan.”
I say, “Awesome.”
I give guy 20 points inside my head and my phone number. Seriously, when I see a Sox hat, my phone number writes itself on napkins. It’s a flaw I’m working on. Sox hats and guitars. My phone number appears like magic. I don’t even remember asking for a pen.
I say, “Love what happened with Nomar(h) a few weeks back.”
Guy says, “What is No-mah?”
I take my phone number back.
Seriously.
And this is not the first time this has happened.
I have (in retrospect) scared even the most laid back (maybe especially the most laid back) guys off with my “sox-speak.”
Ask my friend Joel in Charlotte. Friends have, on occasion, said my Sox-monopoly of conversations has been an unwelcomed turn-off. Joel actually warned someone about me this one time. I heard him. Apparently sox-monopoly isn’t cool?
I know. I am as shocked as you are.
I can’t remedy this. I’ve tried.
Guys just don’t get it.
That first date question, “So, what are you into?” is dangerous. I say, as casually as I can muster (and I can muster casual. I can so muster casual, especially during off season), “Oh, you know, painting. Crocheting. (pause) Oh, and I like the Red Sox.”
Then they’re dumb enough to say, “Oh, really?”
Because they’re under that illusion (at least for a few minutes), that a girl into sports is hot. You don’t really think that. Especially not when the girl can out-Sox you. And trust me, I can.
Even though I know better, I find myself taking that “oh really?” as an invitation to word-vomit statistics and Kevin Youkilis fables, and before I know it, an hour has gone by, and the wide-eyed guy across from me at the table has already asked for the check.
This has (unbelievably) happened more than once.
Okay, this has happened more than twice. Possibly more than a dozen times.
It makes it hard to foster multiple dates. You know, with the same person. Because even if you call me, I am unbelievably critical… and I have caller ID. And, while I still think dating is overrated, I did make that New Year’s resolution to (at least try to) take guys more seriously… it’s still the New Year…
The new, mature, adult Lauren has decided there is only one real cure for the Sox-word-vomit. To go out with an actual Red Sox fan.
This has never happened. Seriously. It’s hard in Boone, NC. And my definition of a Sox fan is a bit specific.
I have been on dates with people who -say- they’re Sox fans. But they’re just in it for the t-shirts. My friend Michael put it best the other day- calling them “pink hats,” in it for the Nation. Nothing turns me off more than a “fan” who doesn’t know how to spell Youkilis. Seriously. Couldn’t you google it before we go out?
Certain -people- I have gone out with in recent weeks, really don’t get it. And I mean, REALLY don’t get it. Worse than lame ex-boyfriends who purposefully cheer for the Yankees out of spite (yes, I’m talking to you).
For example, after I’ve ALREADY word vomited my adoration for K-Youk (holding back as much as I can, of course, and, if you know me, you know how hard it is for me to keep anything inside), and they pretend to think that’s cute, or hot, or whatever (key word pretend. I see through you), they try to make plans with me for Tuesday. You know, Tuesday after Easter. Game Day. Yanks vs Sox day.
Really?
Plans that don’t include a bar with MLB network?
Really?
Do I LOOK like the kind of girl who wants to sit through the non-Maggie Smith Clash of the Titans remake when Fat Tire is on tap less than a mile away at a bar with Sat tv?
Apparently. It must be the pig tails.
Speaking of movies…
Have you NEVER seen the movie Fever Pitch? Because maybe you should. It is Drew Barrymore’s only redemption. That and ET. And… Babes in Toyland (got it free at McDonald’s a trillion years ago, okay? And it was the greatest film Keanu was ever in. But that’s a tangent. And I’m trying to stop it with the tangents. That was New Year’s resolution #2. Starting it now. Do you remember Much Ado About Nothing with Kenneth Brannagh? That was better. But Keanu sucked. Okay. Starting now).
“I didn’t know you were -that- kind of fan,” they say.
Really?
Have you seen my car? The flags/magnets/stickers/plate frame weren’t adequate indicators?
So, random guy, if you’re wondering why I didn’t text you back yesterday… wonder no longer.
Now that I’m doing this mature, responsible, adult thing of trying to take the opposite sex seriously (sorry guys, but it’s hard. You can be so ridiculously needy. And comical. And so many of you have ears that are disproportionate to your faces) and trying not to go out with guys just to get a free meal (and I’m a reporter, so I can barely feed myself without such handouts. Feel extremely special if I answer my phone for date #2. I’d actually rather read magazines on the Parkway than listen to you talk about that time you and the frat brothers streaked down King Street and how Family Guy has “actual, relevant commentary”), I find myself going on multiple dates with some real losers, just to prove I don’t make up random flaws (I’m not talking about you, of course).
Am I making any sense?
It’s early. And I haven’t had baseball since Sunday. Or coffee since twenty minutes ago.
I have to drive back to Boone today, and, more importantly, find a bar that carries MLB network before 7:15. Any suggestions? No? Look for me. I’ll be the girl in the 20 jersey throwing condiments at the television and cursing. Probably sitting by myself, naturally, glaring at guys who try to pick me up (can you at least wait until a commercial?) and drinking PBR. Unless I can convince one of my unsuspecting friends to chaperone. And… by 7:15 they’ve read this blog and know better. Prob even Nicole. 🙂
I miss Jason Varitek.
If you haven’t read this, you should. It would be funny if it weren’t so very sad.
Burnett vs Lester tonight, kids!
And- to start your day on a high note:
Yours,
L
PS- I would almost eat meat for this. Almost.
Too Soxy for my Shirt 