Cursed To First - Sox and Pats forever.

A long, strange trip to first place

As it turns out, this year's Opening Day game was representative of something. Looking back, it's actually a perfect encapsulation of the team we would see for the next month.

The Machine begins to swallow Dice-K

In case there's anyone left who's desperate to see Daisuke Matsuzaka back in Red Sox uniform again, I have a bad omen for you: the telltale smear campaign seems to have begun.

This new mudslinging emerged yesterday, in the form of a column by Jeff Passan of Yahoo! Sports, "Red Sox in no-win situation with Dice-K," which has gotten quite a reaction in the less-than-24-hours since it was published. I'm no Matsuzaka fan, given his maddening tenure in Boston, but some of the comments from "sources inside the organization" reported there have left an even worse taste in my mouth than Daisuke's career.

A Sentimental Series

My Grandpa Tom grew up in rural southern Illinois, but spent some time near Chicago due to his job with the railroad in the late 30's, which is how he became a Cubs fan. In the 40s, he and my grandmother moved to North Dakota, where they have remained ever since, and there is no local baseball team. So my grandfather remains a Cubs fan.

My father's the major reason I fell in love with the Red Sox and Patriots, but he believes strongly that, as he puts it, "you always have to root for the home entry." In other words, if my sister and I had grown up where my mother grew up, rather than where my father grew up, there's a good chance we'd be Cubs fans.

Then there is my friend Brian. Over the years some of my most impassioned, intense debate over baseball has been with him. We have gotten into the deep groove about its cultural meaning as representative of a city, about the fundamental philosophical differences between Red Sox and Cubs fans -- which are surprisingly many, at least to me as a Red Sox fan, and presumably would be to several national sports broadcasters, if they were paying any attention.

The Beckett Effect

I long ago ran out of superlatives to describe the pitching of Josh Beckett when he's on. Not to mention synonyms for "swagger" and "attitude". And it's really too bad practically all of the Chuck Norris Facts have already been ripped off on behalf of Jed Lowrie this season, because they are also a good fit for Beckett when he's mowing down our rivals like that, not to mention the way people talk about it while it's happening.

One down behind Buchholz

My favorite moment of that crucial first win over the Yankees last night was Clay Buchholz's fielding play in the third, when he used the entire length of his lanky body to intercept a grounder off the bat of Brett Gardner.The guy was just walking on water last night, and that play encapsulated just how much things were going his way.

But let's talk about his pitching, because I would be remiss in not following up on the post where I was worried about Buch. As with the series and the season in general, I'm not making any predictions, but over his last three starts, he's righted the ship, up to and including last night's gem against New York.

Frustrated, Incorporated

Toronto's stadium -- Skydome, the Rogers Centre, whatever you want to call it -- is my least favorite venue to watch the Sox play in. What might be a capacity crowd at Fenway disappears into its cavernous environs. When the roof is closed, the game almost seems shrouded in gray mist, so drab are the lights and the worn turf.

Against this fittingly gloomy backdrop, last night the Red Sox once again came within a game of .500, -- repeatedly coming back and tying the score, valiantly clawing for the W, even -- and still lost.

Red Sox squeeze out series win vs. Twins

At long last, Carl Crawford took a low pitch deep, scorching it high off the wall in left center field in the bottom of the 11th inning. The hit scored everyone's favorite prospect, Jose Iglesias, who had filled The Legend's shoes as a pinch runner, and slid in just ahead of a double-relay throw.

And then all was merry tackling and whatnot.

Hey Hey, Jose

Yesterday in the top of the ninth, another infielder out of the Red Sox farm system made his Major League debut. This time, though, it might have been the shortstop of the future. Given the shortstop-sized hole in our hearts I've referred to ad nauseam since the departure of Nomar, and given this prospect's apparent worth, this was a really big deal.

Jose Iglesias was being talked up before he even donned the uniform, impressed in Spring Training, and has raced through the minor league system, moving from Lowell to Portland in 2010 and then to Pawtucket and finally Boston this year. With the exception of Nomar himself or Iglesias' big-league mentor, Dustin Pedroia, I can't recall a more hotly anticipated debut.

All Iglesias did was field a grounder, for him a simple play, but it was for the final out of a much-needed 9-5 Sox win. His play cued "Dirty Water", and he received a pat on the back from Pedroia as well as wild applause from the stands.

Of course, we have yet to see him in home whites on a regular basis. Maybe he'll be the one to finally drive a wedge into the rapidly spinning revolving door at shortstop for the Red Sox, and complete our set of homegrown infielders. Or maybe he'll blink in the bright lights of Boston, fold just a little bit under the multifaceted pressures and learning curves of his new life.

So far, though, that hasn't happened. So far, Iglesias has taken on relentless ribbing from big-league teammates and the pressure of being a Sox prospect with equal aplomb. And when you hear his life story, as expertly drawn out by Peter Gammons -- in Iglesias' first English-speaking interview, no less -- all these things suddenly seem very small.

We're all rooting for you, kid. We all can't wait.

Disconcerting pattern developing for the Red Sox

 

(Screencap from ESPN's Red Sox clubhouse)

Twice now, in the late weeks of April and the early weeks of May, we've felt the stomach-churning drops of this hope / despair roller coaster. The Red Sox claw their way to a place where they can just brush the tips of their fingers against .500, and then they stumble in painful fashion. Then, no sooner does depression set in, than they play an inspired series of games that puts us on the edge of our seats again.

Still, it's getting to be about time to acknowledge at least a bit of stark reality. It's now a little over a month into the season, and we're not talking about flirting with a winning record, or improved standings in the division. We're talking about flirting with .500. Sidling up to mediocrity. Aiming for lukewarm. And still not getting anywhere quite yet.

Dustin Pedroia and the Truly, Awesomely, Fearsomely Epic At-Bat

It was the bottom of the fifth inning. The Red Sox trailed 2-1 against Angels righty Jered Weaver, who came into tonight's game among the league's top pitchers with a record of 6-0, and looking for a record-setting seventh win in a row to start a season.

"Well," I Tweeted sarcastically. "The opposing team has now scored two runs, and therefore has an insurmountable lead." That's really how it has begun to feel, lately, with all the RISP problems making timely hits, let alone runs, hard to come by.

Even when first Carl Crawford, and then Jason Varitek and Jacoby Ellsbury reached base (this last on a fielder's choice) -- even, in other words, with Dustin Pedroia coming up and two of the game's fastest runners on the basepaths, there was nary a chicken being counted by me.

No way I would've predicted just what would follow next, anyway.