I went to bed in the seventh inning, Red Sox down five to nothing. I lost all faith in the first inning, truth be told, but hung on as it got uglier through the demise of my man Dice-K.
Woke up this morning, sat down with my coffee, and used the Blackberry to Google “Red Sox Score.”
“F%$K me,” I said. “Of course they won.”
I just watched the last two innings on MLB.com in the condensed format. Two things hit me in the heart.
- David Ortiz is the man and the reason they came out of their dugout, pounded their chests and made Tampa TASTE THE LIGHTNING.
- There is no more quintessential Boston moment than Kevin Youklis doing a primal scream as he rounds third base and the PA lights up with the first bars of “Dirty Water.”
Twitter, and Surviving Grady were deathly quiet in the 5th and 6th, but then the fans started coming out. The cardiac kids strike again.
The TBS butt monkeys proclaimed early in the 7th that “Red Sox Nation has given up on the sox” – and within minutes, they were forced to eat their words.
An utterly outrageous game…
do you travel with a personal defibrillator when you watch the sox???
TBS “butt monkeys” is being kind. A stupider collection of biased asshats has never sat in a broadcast booth. I intend to boycott TBS for life after this. Chip Caray should be embarrassed. I’ll give my man Ron Darling a pass because he was a good guy in college and played in the Cape League. But Caray — burn him in effigy I say.
I can’t take it anymore Lisa. I have thrown fully loaded champagne bottles at televisions in the past. The violence. The obscenities. The agitation. Nothing in this world gets me as worked up as a Sox game.
Too funny…Ron Darling sat behind me in High School at St. Johns…
The best part was when they started talking about the champagne being on ice in the Tampax locker room, and the goggles were ready. Just before Pedroia started the rally off.
So a die hard soccer fan switches on tv in the 7th and watches one of the greatest comebacks of all time. It was an honor to watch and I will make sure i switch on late in future!
The pub up this way was deathly quiet, but a dozen or so of us hung tight, heads in hands.
What a reward.
Simmons put it well, I think:
“More importantly, the champs decided they were going down swinging. Win or lose this weekend, that’s all we wanted. Show some pride. Show some heart. Show us last season meant something. And they did.”
Gammons, of course, put it better:
“if you’re a Rays fan, you can wonder because once the door opened, they kept singing “Don’t Stop Believin'” and pounding the padding; one fan down the right-field line pounded so hard his right hand was bleeding, but he kept it up, screaming, “J.D.’s coming, J.D.’s coming,” and, on call, Drew drilled his two-run homer. Then came Crisp’s heroic 10-pitch at-bat capped by his game-tying single. Then the throwing error by future Gold Glover Longoria, and Drew ripping the winning hit over Gabe Gross’ head.
It wasn’t noise for the sake of noise, someone telling fans when to “scream” or how to rattle cowbells. It was the intensity passed down for generations at The Fens.”
Damn right.
Game tomorrow: win or go home. Let’s not go home.