So, I start watching in the 8th… Sox vs Rays. Live Blog.
It is 7 to 2. Hmmm.
See, a few hours ago, this would be enough to send me into a pillow-destroying tizzy, but I have had a few drinks and an extremely good evening. So you can’t touch me, Tampa.
Hmmm. 7 to 2. I wonder what-
Oh. John Lackey.
Oh. Left with a “bruise.”
Yeah. If I destroyed spirits and threatened the wildcard, I’d call “bruise” too.
And Kevin Youkilis. I am so glad you are watching this in Boston. I hope you are not watching. I hope you are thinking happy thought about glitter and unicorns. What just happened? Why are we having a moment of silence? I missed that. I think someone got clocked with a pitch.
Oh. Terry Francona’s eating sunflower seeds again.
And we have a close up on underwear lines in pants. Nice, MLB.
Yeah. 7 to 2.
Oh good. A close up on the suffering guy’s face.
This has been what, four minutes? We don’t stop that long when people are hit by pitches. You know. Players. Not umps. Who. Um. aren’t exactly people.
Oh. I get it. He got hit in the- oh.
And it’s still going on. Awkward announcer speak.
“I guess time truly does heal all wounds,” annoucner said.
“But the scar remains.”
“All you can do is wait.
Shut up and play.
Of course. It was a Sox pitcher. So, we clock an ump in the… um… and ….
Of course it’s 7 to 2.
I’d help the other team too if they hit me in the- well, I don’t have -… but…
They must be terribly inconvenient. Those… um… things.
Morales, Morales, Morales.
BJ Upton. You just look like a little punk. It’s your eyes.
My post-work was so great. I’ll tell you about it soon. But I tend to jinx great things. So. Biting the lower lip on this one.
Wade Davis pitching. He looks like a serial killer. It’s his mouth.
So. 9th, hmmm?
So. This is it, hmmm?
I am glad I didn’t see this. I think my night would have drastically imploded.
Pops out. Yes, Gonz does. Of course he does. He hits when. You know. We’re ahead by fifteen thousand.
Dustin Pedroia. Oh, I’m glad you got a single earlier. That’s something.
I’m glad I didn’t have to see you play, Johnny Damon. I probably would have thrown up a little in m mouth.
“These are dangerous hitters we’re talking about here,” announcer said.
I see that.
Pedroia flies it right. And It’s caught over the shoulder. Of course it is.
So. Met a guy. Only mentioned the Red Sox like twice.
And I breathed in between and everything and didn’t spit it out in a minimonologue of word vomit. Oh. And he’s not from North Carolina. And he like solar panels. And I didn’t make literary references or talk about politics or anything.
And-and-and-and- and here’s the kicker. I’ve never seen him before. Ever. And that is mighty attractive.
You know what’s NOT attractive? Popping out. So, Papi. Let’s not.
I’m glad it’s Papi at the plate. He’s really the only person I want in this situation.
Anddddd strikes out.
So, I met this guy…