Rollin’ the Dice
Stop! Collaborate and Listen… Dice is back for a brand new edition…
Back by request (a whole TWO of you admitted to enjoying my live blogging and a whole ONE of you requested for me to do it again)- blogging live from the Red Sox capitol of North Carolina, ladies and gentlemen…
Chapter 1: Bottom of the First.
The first pitch. Base hit. Great. Wait-wait- who is that? Is that Jason Varitek? Oh, my love… how I’ve missed you.
Okay. This is in no way an endorsement, but Shin-Soo, you have a terrific name. 7:20 p.m. Shot one. Yikes.
7:21. Shin Soo, you suck.
“I mean that was right straight down to the center of the plate…”
We get it. Shut up. 7:23. Shot 2.
Sidebar: Is there ANYONE out there? Bet Cleveland tix are cheap… full count, Dice Baby. Full count. 7:25.
Anyone hear that? Announcer totally just pronounced Ramirez Rah-May-Riz.
“Did you like the sound of the coins from Super Mario after that homer? I sure did!”~ Jeb via Facebook.
Jerk. Awesome. See what you made me do, Jeb? Transfer all this negativity and Cabrera got hit. That was YOUR fault.
That deserves another shot of whiskey. I am a great bar tender. I can pour.
Oh look, Crawford did something. Okay, Tito, I’m ready for relief pitching. Remember Masterson? I looooved Masterson.
Chapter 2: The Second Inning
Youk (Can I call you Youkie again?) I love you. Okay, I still love you. Andddd a promo for Heidi Watney. I want to be her more than you want to do her.
Yay, Papi! 7:36. Bring it, baby. Yessssssssssssss. And another shot! Is this shot 3? I’m glad I’m not driving. My puppy is glaring at me. I don’t think she likes J.D. Drew. Ellie May Ortiz, I taught you better than that!
Hi, Tekky-tek-tek. Look at you all warming up. Being amazing. Captain, my captain. Right. J.D. Drew. Batting. Pay attention, Lauren. Slice those fouls. Slice them good! Oh, Tek. My Jason Varitek. Drew! I never doubted you. You should shave.
And ladies and gents we have the main event. Hear that booing? If I was in Cleveland, I’d give you buckeyes something to boo about. Actually, I’d probably be frozen in enamored celebrity. I love you, Jason Varitek.
7:40 p.m. I am wearing my Jason Varitek shirt. The neat thing about being home is I can change according to the batting order. That’s ball four. Load the bases! Load them because coming up we have…. Scut. Crap.
(That’s a yeah with profanity).
1-2 with our favorite base stealer at the plate. “He’s been up in the zone with a lot of his pitches,” announcer says. Yes. That’s right. Criticize a non-Sox bullpen. Oh, Dice-K. You look so sad in the bullpen. Knowing how Tito has been operating, you’ll have way too many innings to redeem yourself. Hi, Jacoby.
Aaaaannnnddd the game is tied. Huzzah. 2-2. 7:46. Celebratory shot.
Crawford, you were expensive. I will drink water now. Now would be a reeeallllyyyy great time for you to prove all those pro-Crawford diciples correct. Or just walk to first. That’s fine too. There’s a song… “I don’t care how you get there, just get there soon…” Full count. Can I call you Crawdad? There’s a different energy to this game. An old school positivity. Anyone else feel it? It’s not about the scoreboard. I think it’s all about Tek.
That’s okay, Crawford. I’m feeling so good I’ll let that slide with only a passive aggressive glare at my computer screen.
Bottom of the second. The Dice-K experiment is waning. Hi, random four red sox fans in the stands. You look desperate. 7:58 p.m. I keep getting distracted by phone calls. “Come out,” they say. “I have whiskey here,” I say. “That’s pathetic,” says she (who I promised never, ever, ever to name on my blog). “So’s your face, I say.” It’s nice being popular.
Dice-K, you could be popular too if you’d stop walking people.
“And the Indians regain the lead.”
Had enough, Tito? Oh, good. Shin-Soo Choo again. Oh good. A playback. Of that first homerun. Yes, thanks, announcers, I wanted to see that again. Striiike! “That was almost the identical pitch he hit for the home run,” announcer said. Yessssss. Double fricking play. That’s your small pox, Indians. Oh, wow, I didn’t mean that.
I like Native American movies. And westerns. And Legends of the Fall. And Brad Pitt. Old Brad Pitt. Not scary-brandgelina-I-have-levies-on-my-back Brad Pitt. 8:05 p.m.
“After that inning a long conversation with a translator between Jason Varitek and Daisuke,” announcer said.
See that, Salty? Pay a-fricking-ttention.
Okay, they’re messing with my Pedroia. That’s how fights happen, people. 8:06 p.m. “I don’t think it got the bat,” announcer said about that rogue ball. No, it got Dustin Pedroia. Look at the playback. Playback. You know, that thing you keep doing to Shin Choo’s homerun?
You better not hit Gonzo. That’s what I’ve decided to call him now. I like it better than Masher. Gonzo. Like in the muppets. Off the wall! See that? Just like Gonzo in the muppets! He was off the wall too.
The Indian head on the hat kind of looks like a middle finger. I never noticed that before. It’s okay, Youkilis. I love you even when you don’t hit fastballs. Don’t do it again. Hi, Papi.
Hmmm. Our two stalwarts both out. Two on base. Two outs. And up comes J.D. Drew. Who, if you didn’t know, will be followed by JASON VARITEK. Come on J.D. I’m feeling it. Are you feeling it? Let’s feel it together. 2 and 2. 2 outs. 2 on base. aaaandddddd… it’s up high. This is a stressful at-bat. “It’s almost like it surprised Santana a little bit,” announcer said. J.D. Drew just waved at me. Did you see that? Strike out. I think I distracted him psychicly by accident. It happens.
Annnddd bottom of the third. And I am making tea. A side note- the Bruins are 3-1. Sweet. Yeah, that’s right, Santana. Sit down. (I love your name too)
Dice-K is rolling some snake eyes. About freaking time. Dice-Dice-Baby. You have earned me wearing your shirt for this inning. 8:23. Back to back Ks for Dice-K. Why the turnaround? Bet it has something to do with JASON VARITEK.
Awesome catch by Crawdad (that’s not working, is it?)! Starting to feel you, buddy. And we’re in the fourth.
Chapter 4: The one where where Jason Varitek is going to hit a homerun. Really.
Jason Varitek…. I think you’re swell. Play for us forever, k? Awesome fight in the stands. And if you hit Dustin Pedroia again, Cleveland, you might see one on the field.
Was it worth it, weird fan who won the foul ball fight? You look like a Yankees fan.
It’s okay, Tek. I see what you were doing there. What a noble captain. Trying to bring yourself down to their level. But you can be real with me, Tek. Next time. Is it just me, or is this guy trying to hit Scut with a rock? 8:30 p.m. Frick. Two outs. Double frick. Three outs.
Bottom of the fourth and an out. Hi, Heidi Watney. I’m like an Irish you. It’s uncanny. We could be sisters.
Laporta breathes funny. 8:40 p.m. Annnnddd Varitek catches you out, weird breather.
They look cold. Okay. That was a very good pitch. Called a ball, but it was solid. 8:44. Ball four. Third walk “served up by Dice-K.” Hey, Tito- have a thought. Let’s have another Tek talk stat. Anddddd Gonzo ends the inning. He works hard for the money, he does.
Chapter 5: The one where Varitek is going to get a homerun.
Crawdad (working on the name) look at you stealing bases and racing to third. I like you. It’s clearly not love at first sight, but I think we might have a romance, you and I. I might let that happen. Just don’t tell Youk. ‘Cause… you know. 8:51.
With that Youk foul, you can see just how empty the stands are… Okay, Kevin. Kevy. Can I call you Kevy? Do you need a backrub? Because I am just a few states away.
This Perez guy looks petrified of Ortiz. Crap. 3-2 Indians. Moving to the bottom of the 5th. 9:01.
Out after out. Pedroia’s playing this game, people. And Reyes is in the Pen. Reyes has not impressed me, so let’s start scoring runs in the next inning, k, Tek? One on first. Dice-K looks tired. 5 innings is more than I expected. That was a pretty strike. Thanks, Tek. (And Dice-K. I guess you helped) Crap. Base hit. First and second. Andddd OUT. This was Pedroia the Destroia’s inning.
Chapter 6: The sixth inning. The one where Tek has assured me a homerun is happening.
Drew strikes out. Which is okay. Because number two isssssss JASON VARITEK. Annnnnddddd a pop out.
I’m not agreeing with some of these strike calls tonight. Thoughts? Methinks there’s something wicked in an ump’s mask. 9:23. It’s interesting. All the Cleveland fans can say is BOO. The scattered Boston fans are so articulate. With the earlier “YOU SUCK, SANTANA” and the “GO BACK TO YOUR RESERVATION” (which doesn’t make sense, because wouldn’t Cleveland BE their reservation?) Boston is better at words. Of course, apparently Cleveland doesn’t need articulation because we just struck out. Bottom of 6th.
Annnnddddd we have Reyes. Nervous, anyone? Batter should have been nervous because he just got hit with a rock. Time to start warming someone up in the bullpen, Tito… And a wild pitch at the Breather. A Tek peptalk? Yeah, okay, Young, sit down and let Tek talk. You did enough talking Saturday with JOHN LACKEY. And breather is hit by a pitch. Okay, Tito. Wheeler? You give me Wheeler? Hah. Hannahan is petrified. See that dodge? Maybe this is why Reyes is here. To scare the living poo out of Hannahan. Trying to bunt. Yeah right. Trying to shield. “Reyes just can’t throw strikes.” Thanks, announcer guy. Four pitch walk to load the bases. Okay. So bullpen. Yessss?
Get it? Because Reyes was a trainwreck? No pressure Wheeler…
If we lose because of this inning, I’d hate to be Reyes back in Boston… Cubs catcher fan’s got nothing on you, home skillet.
Brantley’s just thrilled he’s not up against Reyes. He wants to keep his limbs. Of course, Wheeler’s aiming for his toes…
Do not make me choose between you and Youkilis, ump. Don’t do it. Tell ’em, Tito! This is crap.
And a three run homer. 2-7 Cleveland.
Two outs. Wheeler, this is not your fault. Well… that rock you just launched at Santa, that was your fault. And… well… that homerun was kind of your fault… This is BOTH of your faults!
Tek, don’t you have something you want to say, hmmm?
Well, that sucked. Onward to 7.
The one where Jason Varitek is going to get a homerun. In fact, everyone will get homeruns. And Jacoby will steal home again. And Jason Bay will…. sigh… I’m okay. Crap! What the frick, Jacoby?
And Crawford makes first. Word. I think he’s talking to himself. That’s neat. He can talk to himself if he keeps hitting. Fine by me. But we’re jiggers in Boston, Crawdad. Not talkers. Frick. Pedroia! You know better! All up to you, Gonzo. Let’s start things off with a homer, shall we? A triple would be nice. Pedroia just threw his gatorade in the dugout. Did you see that? He has less hair than last year. Speaking of arbitrary aesthetics… One of Hermann’s ears is pointier than the other one. 10th pitch the charm? Foul, foul, foul. I like your style, Gonzo. You remind me of someone… 12… AND HOMERUN. 2 runs. That’ll do, Gonz, that’ll do. 7-4. I love you and I love the nation of Mexico.
And my husband pops it out. Tonight is NOT Youkie’s game…
And 1, 2, 3. Tim Wakefield shows the bullpen how it’s done.
Chapter 8: The one where we will score 5 runs. You hear me, Tek? 5 runs. And you will score at least one of them, so stretch, baby, stretch.
So, Ortiz won’t be scoring the run. Fine. What’s that about Salty? NO. Put him back. Maybe I heard wrong. Surely we wouldn’t take out the Captain in this, what could be his finest hour (since his last fine hour!). Hi, Mike Cameron. Strike one? Yeah, J.D. could do that.
JED LOWRIE? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?
Captain, I miss you already.
Focus, Lauren. Mike Cameron’s still at the plate. Focus. And he needs us. He looks cold. And…. pop out.
And it’s everyone’s favorite (and part of my fantasy trade for Cliff Lee) most-injured playa, Jed Lowrie. Instead of Tek. Lowrie for Tek. Okay, focus Lauren. Could you… hit something, Jed? Oh and Scut’s on deck. This one’s going to be a real winner. Thanks, Tito. For sitting the power players. Outside ball three… way to watch Jed Lowrie. Of course, you get a lot of experience watching in the dugout when you’re injured. Allthetime. If I promise to stop rolling my eyes everytime you walk to the plate, will you promise to hit the fricking ball? Yep. Way to pop out. At least that’s over with.
Knuckleballs! And Salty? This is YOUR FAULT. Homerun for the Breather. 8-4. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU HAVE TOO MUCH SALT ON THE FIELD. Wakefield+Tek=1,2,3. Wakefield+Salty=annoying leftfield homerun. And Salty drops the ball. Literally. I hope this game shows Tito something about the importance of the catcher-pitcher relationship. Because, clearly, Salty’s not cutting it.
Chapter 9: The rapture.
9th inning. THIS, Soxies, is old-school-guerilla-sox. And we’ve done it before. Literally ripping the runs at the last second, prying them out of cold pitcher hands to creep up the scoreboard. This, win or lose, is the rush I’ve missed, the rush we’ve all missed this season. Our boys are actually PLAYING. I credit this to a few things- 1. Tek. He brings spirit. Sure, he brought a significant error with the tag. But I’m not talking about the playtime. The captain brings a magic and I felt it. Soxies know what I mean. The rest of you can read another blog. 2. Because when there’s this kind of pressure, the OLD Sox used to turn it around and have fun. Which is exactly what the team is doing today. Runs are earned, one by one. Every play is a rally- and that’s what we’re used to seeing. That’s what we want to see. And 3. Because in this game you can pinpoint exactly whose fault the score is- and it’s not our favorites. Yeah, there were missed opportunities, but there are always missed opportunities. The loss? It’s this Reyes guy. And that, my friends, is a problem that can be fixed. Yeah, I think there’s a big sodium entrenched problem at the plate, but it’s not soley responsible for the scoreboard. Anddddddd Jacoby is out. Isn’t this familiar? Well, Carl Crawford? It’s your moment.
See, Reyes didn’t just kill the inning (crap, caught, lost), he killed the momentum. And the game. And… yeah.
So, I can’t quite explain it, but I actually feel BETTER about the loss today than the previous 4. At least we actually played. And I got to drink my own whiskey which is cheaper than bar whiskey. So there’s that. Bloggers are already calling this the worst loss yet (did they see JOHN LACKEY?), standing behind statistics that say 0-5 teams can’t be contenders. I disagree. This was NOT our worst game. Yeah, we lost- but pre-2004 fans are used to that. This game at least felt like the Red Sox. And win or lose- that’s what I come to see.
But yeah, let’s work the win tomorrow. Because losing sucks.
Whiskey. Work. Bed.
I will sleep well tonight. Because I am not Dennys Reyes.
PS- Did you hear about LeBron James?