We do not dance without moving our arms in this house*

Jonathan Papelbon has seen the 2004 footage and he knows exactly what happens next. He was getting ready for it all night long.

We confess, we were scared it wouldn't happen, what with the record-setting number of double plays and the untimely return of Julio Lugo's Baseball Blooper Escapades. We were making mental notes of questionable managerial decisions, in case we needed to post our objections here in excruciating detail. Even when Petey-Pie's home run put us up 5-2, we kept reminding ourselves that stranger things have happened, that no lead is safe until the last out is recorded, that goddammit, if you assume you are winning, you're setting yourself up to get hurt.

Well, that's over for now--until Wednesday.

All that is gone and replaced by joy--until Wednesday.

The nerves will come back, but the important point here is, we have a Wednesday.

And we have a Dustin Pedroia--as early adopters, we salute Julio Lugo for pointing out, "That little midget's the man!" We have a Kevin Youkilis, and isn't Billy Beane just eating his heart out? We have a Papi, we have a Manny, we have a Tek--Josh Beckett's "backbone"--who takes a running leap into Papelbon's arms, because this is our tradition, now. This is what we play for.

All those bloggers who talk about Red Sox fans losing their identity are missing one simple yet apparently elusive fact: this team just kicks too much ass not to love. Post-curse reversal, now the Red Sox are just awesome, both in terms of quantifiable athletic skill and in terms of goggles and hugs and Riverdances.

We vote for Keith Foulke to throw out the 2007 World Series first pitch.

See you then.


*We'd fall down.