It turns out that it's much easier for us to blog about the bad things--leaving everyone and their mother on base, grounding into double plays, leaving a starter in just one batter too long--than the good things. Like, and this is just off the top of our heads here, sweeping the ALDS against The The Angels Angels of Anaheim through a combination of sexy pitching, sexy long ball, and even more sexy pitching just to finish things off right.
Oh, we admit it, we doubted. We are doubting doubters who doubt. We doubted game 3 starter Curtis Montague Schilling v. 2.0, we doubted the team's ability to generate any sort of offense (we are still shocked that they didn't manage to lose game 2, to be perfectly honest, and considering the NyQuil™ haze through which Jennifer watched it, she's still not convinced that Manny's beautiful walkoff homer wasn't some sort of drug-induced hallucination), we doubted everything and then we doubted everything some more. We were wrong. This is a good thing.
But the man Jonathan Papelbon calls The Big Daddy not only brought his A game, he brought the drama and the fist-pumps. Papi and Manny went back-to-back for the first time this season. And, even more surprising to our minds, they managed to string together seven runs in the eighth without hitting a home run. We could do a complete play-by-play here, analyze the ways the pitching managed to keep the Angels from their running game and wax poetic about Manny's swing, but we're sure you all saw what happened. We're sure you all watched the same post-game interviews we did, heard Schill call Tek "flawless" and praise all the work John Farrell did with him this season, heard Coco call Schill "a student of the game," saw (and were afraid of) Cinco Ocho's crazy crazy eyes. We don't have to tell you what you already know.
So, yes, we doubted. We paced and knocked on wood and had minor cardiac episodes every time an Angel got on base. We'd say we'll never do it again, but there's another game on Friday and we're Red Sox fans. Worrying and doubting and second-guessing and beer are all in our blood.
But, for now, we'll just raise our glasses in a short toast before settling in to see whether or not Joe Torre loses his job tonight.
Guys, here's to making it hard for us to blog. Feel free to do it again anytime.