Where is Ice Cube when you need him?
Jon Lester, you killed it. Literally. You had the world on your shoulders and you delivered. 7 innings. 3 hits. 9 STRIKE OUTS. If this was second grade, you would have earned a pizza party for the whole class. Your name would be written in crayon, posted on the cork board and all of the students would have to pass you going to their cubbyholes each morning, wishing, praying, hoping that some day they could earn crayon names for themselves. You kept your cool. You recovered from an opening day fiasco with class. And you kicked Cleveland’s ass. Just like that time you killed cancer.
This should have been your win.
Instead, we were subjected to a suicide squeeze. I like that phrase. It depicts what happened on the field perfectly. This game was like a boa constrictor. You hold on as long as you can, but that snake keeps coiling. And Lester, you can’t battle an anaconda by yourself. You’re awesome, but you’re no Ice Cube. And there aren’t any machetes on the field for snake brain bashing.
And I can pinpoint the problem, at least as far as the bullpen is concerned. I’m noticing a pattern. A trend, if you will. Walk out. Curt Young comes to the mound for a pep talk andddddd… pow. The snake squeezes Bard’s eyes out. It’s a metaphor, people! A base steal and a bunt. That’s what actually happened. That is how effective your pep talk was, CURT YOUNG.
And the ending! Oh the ending. See what I’m talking about? Old school guerilla Red Sox? Inch by glorious inch? We do everything to excess, be it winning or… um… losing.
I’m not even sure what happened. The game was on in a corner of my computer screen and I was on a conference call and McDonald falls? He falls? Did he really just fall? I’m glad my phone was on mute. It was colorful.
So, in conclusion, someone needs to figure out what happened with McDonald. And someone else needs to figure out what to do about Curt Young. And someone else needs to buy Jon Lester ice cream. You hear that, JOHN LACKEY? That can be your job. Go.
So. If you’re not going to let Jason Varitek play, why don’t you give him Curt Young’s jersey and put Curt Young on the train to Pawtuckett. Because HIS pep talks work. Unless you’re Dennys Reyes. No one can help Dennys Reyes.
More analysis to come. I just need to watch those last five minutes. Again. And again. And again.
It’s going to be a bumpy ride, kids. But we’re in it for the duration.