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Our little Mikey is all growns up. He’s growns up and he’s growns up and he’s growns up. -Swingers
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! Woo doggie! Here we are. He we are in round two. Round two, I’m down to, do, what it takes to make you understand I’m the Candyman and I melt in your mouth, not in your hands. The Boston Red Sox don’t melt in your hands. Not by a longshot. Good to the last drop. Good to the last drop against the best record in baseball. Good to the last drop as the Red Sox marched foward towards their third pennant in five years. And they’ll be good to last drop again against these upstart Tampa Bay Devil Rays.
Excuse me if I’m not ready to march in the Ray Pride Parade quite yet. Excuse me for not going all in with the kids. It hurts doesn’t it? Your hopes dashed, your dreams down the toilet. And your fate is sitting right besides you. Sitting right beside the Rays are the Boston Red Sox. Sitting right beside the Rays are the reigning Champeens of the World. Sitting right beside the Rays is experience. Having been there. Having done that. Sitting right beside the Rays is one scary ball team.
Take the Captain. Please. Take Captain Fantastic. Captain Dynamite. You saw him. No not the tag. The tag was big. No, I’m talking about the hit. You saw the hit. Saw it a little bit. You saw Jason Varitek stroll to the plate with one out and Mark Kotsay at first. Varitek fighting and fighting against Big John Lackey. Fighting his way to a full count. Fighting his way into a hit and run that put the runner on third. As a result of that fighting and that hit, the Red Sox got to play from strength for most of that ballgame. They never trailed. That’s experience. That’s big time at bats in big time moments. That’s what this Boston Red Sox baseball team is all about.
Need more? Enter the new Sandman. Enter Jonathon Papelbon. Through four games of these here playoffs, Pap still hadn’t allowed a postseason run. Not one. Not now. Not in his career. Not ever. Not one run. Yowza!
What aabout the feelest goodest story of the year? What about the new Ace? Huh? What about him? Ace is the place with the helpful hardware. No one’s been more helpful than Jon Lester. The winning pitcher in last year’s final game of the World Series has been nothing short of lights-out in his first two starts of this year’s postseason.
Then there’s Gold Glove everybaseman. Then there’s Maude. Then there’s Kevin Youkilis. The Greek God of Walks. Youk has been piling up highlight reel after highlight reel. Web Gem after Web Gem. Hello, I glove you, won’t you tell me your name.
And… And, and, and… And, even though I didn’t like the way Boom Boom Beckett looked in Game Three, I’ll still take the biggest big game pitcher I’ve ever seen. The biggest big game pitcher there’s ever been. Bigger than James Dean.
Lastest, and far from leastest, my two favorite words in the Spanish dictionary. Papi Grande. The biggest baddest postseason player in these playoffs. When all has been said and done it’s usually Papi done doing the saying and the doing. Do the dew! It’s been Papi putting the fear of god into opposing pitchers. Knox Washington style. And don’t bother me about his wrist. ‘Cause it sure ain’t bothering him. During the AL Division Series vs. the Angels, his ability to turn on a pitch and pull it sharply was clearly evident. You know what that spells? Sure you do. That spells bad news for the Rays.
So you can take your kids. Your Evan Longoria. Your lollygagging BJ Upton. Your not as good as he used to be, Scott Kazmir. You can pack them up in your old kit bag while I smile, smile, smile. Roll Sox, roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Jed Clampett, Candyman, Maxwell House, Henny Youngman, Bea Arthur, the Doors, Rounders, the Wire and Spike Jones
Public Spectacle:
Peace out homies. Six Two and Even!
