Just one game.
So, we’re fine. Really.
So Jon Lester serves up a career-high three home runs and all we take with us is the whiskey. Add in the sad Bard song (<-see the pun) and we have a 9-5 Shakespearean tragedy, complete with high expectations and King Lear-esque collapse. You know, without the dead daughters. But with a completely useless and completely expensive Crawford.
Stretched similes aside, it’s not what we wanted. It’s not how we wanted to kick start our momentum, but, being it’s game 1- let’s look on the positive. And there’s a lot to jig about, despite some poor mound choices by Curt Young and Tito. (I have, in this game’s report card, decided to blame Curt Young because Lester is too pretty.)
Namely, David Ortiz. With his history of slow starts and, frankly, stressing me out, I was like a tween at a R-Pat sighting when he knocked that ball out of the park.
And Jacoby. Was it just me, or was he the only Soxy who PLAYED the whole game? Once again he showcased his early-years-not-horrible-years-Damonesque marathon capabilities for steals that were as fun to watch as they were useful to the scoreboard. 4 out of 5 at bats? Yay for not being injured.
And the Masher. Gonzalez himself (let’s think of some good Gonzalez puns, k, and… go), stole a base (I’m told the second of his career) and proved he was worth the cash.
And K-Youk. He’s always hot. Always. He missed me. I can tell.
And, let’s not forget about the last time we lost the opener. 2007. That didn’t end so badly come Soxtober. And in 2004, when we lost the opener.
So let’s ignore Crawford (who became the first player to strike out there times in his Sox debut since my least favorite Sox player LUGO) and, as Salty told the Boston Globe, “get over it.”
Best moment from last night, Papi aside?
Julio Borbon and Nelson Cruz going after the ball.
Onward soldiers. And no more Chuck Norris jokes. Apparently He doesn’t like them.
Oh, and don’t drunken blog. You might get phone calls.