Home > Drunken Live Blogging > Stalemates are for chess…

Stalemates are for chess…

So… I JUST got off of another 18 hour day (a lonely life, reporters lead) to find a 0-0 match up… and I’m without the energy to move from my sofa…

work legs…

Beckett’s stellar. Problem is… other guy’s pretty clean too. But we’re hitting, I see…

Ortiz due up, top of the 6th.

Okay, guys, what did I miss?

Ortiz on base… three balls for Lowrie… looks like someone’s getting tired, eh, Chatwood? Chatwood is a terrible name. They must have pummeled you in the 6th grade lockerroom, by the way. Oh. Sorry to bring up such painful memories. Strike one was outside. Awesome. Crappy umps followed us to Anaheim.

Awesome! First and second with no outs! Awesome! Andddddd… Carl Crawford at the plate. Crap. I hate saying “crap” to a hundred kazillion dollars. But crap.

Show us the magic, Crawford. Remember what you wrote in your diary?

Really?! What do you think about when you’re 0 for everything?

Okay. Sacrifice bunt. I guess I can’t fault you for that… I guess.

But maybe you should spend more time HITTING and less time JOURNALING!


Hi, Tekky-poo. 11:44.

Tek… strike out? Tek…

I’m going to get a drink.


Runners at second and third. Help us, Jacoby Ellsbury! You’re our only hope. Remember that time you got us tacos? 11:45.

Yeah, baby! Single=better than tacos! It’s 2-0, thanks to some savvy base running by our boys. I like this, missing the crap part of the game and sliding in front of the screen just in time to watch the awesomeness. It’s like he knew I was watching.

Crap. That’s a lot of pressure. Because there’s no way I’m staying up this late for all the west coast games, Jacoby. Well… unless you ask me to…

Well, unless Youkilis asks me to….


Caught stealing?! Us? Never.

That was a productive, lovely inning.

I wish my day was as productive as that inning.


Let’s do it again! That was like a driveby of awesomeness.

Yeah. That clip was lame. But I’ve been writing about Medicare for the past two hours, so my brain is a-fried.

Hi, Josh Beckett. Beckster. Beckawesome.

Crap. That was you, Beckett.

Don’t let it happen again.

So they’ve got one on first. Big fricking deal.


And an out later… and they’ve got one on second. Whatever.


11:54. Crap. How did you get to third? Wait a minute… I know what you’re doing… two outs… that’s not going to work.

11:56. Oh, thanks be to Fisk that didn’t work. Three outs, kiddies…. Destroia at the plate to start the 7th. This is a mighty long game. But the last time I fell asleep we lost in the 8th…

By the way, I’m not the only one noticing the pattern- how Salty’s starts aren’t close to consecutive… think this means what I think it means? It’s interesting. They say Tek can’t possibly be a starter again… but what’s the solution? Really? Because Salty? That’s just too much sodium for our pitching staff.

11:59 p.m. They’ve changed to Takahashi (AWESOME NAME).

One on first…

OH MY GOD I HATE THE ANGELS! I just found out what they did to my husband of husbands, my precious Youkie Bear.

I wondered why Scut and Jed were doubleteaming…

This is greatly distressing. I am greatly distressed by this. A walk means runners at first and second. Runners out for vengeance.

No outs and Gonz at the plate? Exactly where I’d want to be if I was a baserunner.

Yikes. Scut up. One out. My new work friend Matt (<- see, firedannyainge, he has a name! he’s real!) is a Scut fan. As in… thinks Scut is capable of great things. Let’s see. Annnnndddddd STRIKE OUT. Hey, Papi…



Top of the 7th…

And Beckster’s still launching bullets…Wow. That’s not the only thing he’s launching… Congrats, Beck!

Beckett’s offspring will be amazing. A rocket scientist as a mom. A rocket as a dad. Your child will be able to build a spaceship out of abc blocks.


Okay, did you REALLY just walk one of my least favorite people in the world, Bobby Abreu? Did you REALLY just do that? I HATE Bobby Abreu.


Two run homer. 2-2.

It’s starting.

Damnit. I just feel like we’ve seen this movie before…

Yep… definitely saw this LAST SUMMER.


It’s okay. It’s tied. And we have an out now. It’s going to be okay.

Alllll okay. 12:23.

8th inning… so sleepy. Must. Not. Go. To. Sleep. Am haunted by the last time I did that. Poor, poor Okajima. He was counting on me and I… fell… asleep.

Would jog in place or something, but stuck in couch. Legs won’t move. Will sleep here.

Carl Crawford. This is your moment. And he walks. Well, at least he’s on a base.


Recovered. Good. Bases loaded. One out. JD Drew.

My temper is ridiculous when I’m tired. I think I just terrified the dog again. She disappeared.

Two outs.

Opportunities, people! Come on!

Pedroia. Please.

THAT is not what I meant.

And what is with the fricking umps over the past few games?

Don’t you people realize if you keep making bad calls we’ll stay tied and the GAME WILL LAST FOREVER?! 12:42.

Okay. Curt Young. Really. It’s time to pull Becket. EIGHT INNINGS. And he’s hurling them, Curt. HURLING them. And making me nervous…

I’m having a total Oakland flashback… maybe you’re right, Young. Maybe we should keep him out there…

One more out baby. One. More. Out.


Okay. it is 12:52. I have to do it. I’m sorry, Oky. I’m sorry, Tito. But I have to.

I am going to… go to sleep.

Now I do this… trusting you. Trusting all of you.

Don’t let me down…

Goodnight, and please, please, please, please, please don’t STILL be tied when I wake up…

Let me know what happens, guys.


Categories: Drunken Live Blogging
  1. FireDannyAinge
    April 22, 2011 at 12:22 am

    Becketts new nick name is Suckett. I am off to bed. This is reminding me way too much of game one vs Oakland.

  2. FireDannyAinge
    April 22, 2011 at 2:05 am

    We win.

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