Thank You Sir May I Have Another

I can only hope that, after last night's win in the Helldome, Hideki Okajima and Paps took Jacoby Ellsbury out on the town for prime rib and hookers. Because the young man's otherwordly snag of a sinking pop fly with one out and the bases loaded and the Sox clinging to a 7-4 lead, was a game-saving thing of awkward beauty. Watching the replays, I still can't comprehend exactly how he ended up with the ball in his hands when all was said and done. But I know that if it got by him, you might as well have dropped it into the Negative Zone. There would have been ample time for all three baserunners and the entire brass section of the New York Philharmonic to cross the plate, my foot would have gone clean through the flatscreen, and the Ghost of Mike Timlin would have been busy crafting some cement loafers for Oki. This was a series I'd been dreading, but having seen game one, I like the way the next two stack up. Tampa Bay looked like a team that may have included the to...