I'm just forgetting last night ever happened. I'm trying not to remember either that the Blue Jays beat up on us and the Rays even though they're in fourth third place, and the Yankees beat up on the Rays even though the Rays beat up on us and we beat up on the Yankees, LET ALONE that we had our lunch money stolen last night by the Texas Rangers, aka The Worst Excuse for a Major League Baseball Team Possibly Ever. Because sometimes, baseball just makes no sense.
Today, before Dustin Pedroia made one of his patented scrambling, scrappy whirlwind plays, before Big Papi hit his first home run in what feels like eons, before Paul Byrd won his fourth straight start, before Kevin Youkilis gloved the last popout in foul territory while the sparse crowd in Texas cheered for the away team - I had a nagging bit of doubt, that perhaps today would be a day for the Red Sox to play with my mind (as they have so enjoyed this season), by actually dropping the series to the WEMLBTPE.
That feeling of impending doom was kind of hard to shake, considering not only last night's contest but the fact that the Sox game didn't start until about an hour or so after TOM BRADY'S LEFT KNEE WAS MANGLED. Not the best circumstances for engendering optimism.
The Sox win doesn't redeem this nighmarish afternoon. Even Remy and Orsillo were more interested in discussing Brady's injury around the 7th inning than what was going on with the home nine. But at least they didn't compound our misery.