This week, the cosmic chef has treated us to a pu-pu platter of variations on losing, that piquant taste to which we had grown accustomed in years past, but this time flavored with new ingredients like the Yankees farm system and a double-A pitcher making a start for the Sox. Monday it was the blowout, with all its attendant humiliations; last night the enamel on our teeth was put to significant test throughout the ordeal of the close-game loss. Tonight, the delicacy of dissatisfaction is a rainout, another delay of gratification almost as significant for a rain-battered team as an L on the schedule, but with the added dimension of boredom.
Monday night's game led to much painful navel-gazing and to debates with titles like Josh Beckett: Is He Tipping His Pitches? Or Does He Just Suck and Does That In Turn Make the Trade of Hanley Ramirez a Bad One and Oh Yeah, What About the Bronson Arroyo Trade, I Guess That One Sucks Now Too. In other words, the rating on stocks of Excedrin in my household had been changed to "sell."
The consensus about last night's game, meanwhile, is that it was a moral victory of sorts, as no one had expected David Pauley vs. Chien-Ming Wang to turn out to be the pitcher's duel given a choice between that and a Mussina vs. Beckett tilt. The common opinion seems to be that things are looking up for the Sox, that last night's game was a "big step forward" for the team even if the result doesn't reflect it, that Pauley could be coming up big, and just wait till we get Lester and Hansen up here, then we'll show you, fuckers.
Could just be because I've been sick this week, but I ain't feelin' it. Actually, what I was feelin' last night was that Rudy Seanez's ball four to Giambi has to be right up there with one of the worst Sox moments of the season. Worse, I think this series so far has said more about the Yankees--and that reports of their farm system's demise may have been exaggerated--than about the Red Sox.
If anything, the Yankees have become, through arbitrary fate alone, the kind of team they arguably should have been in the first place, a team with a few role-players here and there rather than an All-Star Team on the same payroll--a team with some mortar here and there rather than just bricks stacked together (give me a break, here, I don't feel good).
Anyway, if anything, thanks to Matsui's wrist and Jeter's thumb, etc., the Yankees are looking like a more cohesive team. And to that I say...well, shit. The way the MFY have pulled together these last few weeks has been nothing short of horrific to see from the Boston side. As in past years, they should've fallen apart a while ago...but they just...keep...coming, like Michael Myers in the Halloween movies.
I mean, leave it to the Yankees--just when you think you've got 'em where you want 'em, some guy named "Melky" comes up big.
As for tonight, I think Jose Melendez once again said it best:
Jose discovered last night that there are these things made out of paper with lots of black ink on them that tell stories. Apparently, they’re called books. Isn’t that neat? Jose worked on a good one last night called Sweet Thursday by John Steinbeck. And you know what the best thing about these “books” is? There is virtually no chance that one will sit down for an evening curled up with a nice book and discover 20 minutes in that Josh Beckett has completely ruined it.