Shut up, Mark Teahen

(picture via TheOldComputer.com)

So I told myself I'd update on the fantastic appearance by Typo as well as last night's game in the same post, which I'll still do, but it's going to get a little bipolar, because that's how these games have been.

Monday night, as Gabbard logged his eighth strikeout in 9 innings to complete his complete-game shutout over the Royals, I thought, how spoiled can you get in the pitching department? Apparently this spoiled--spoiled enough that the spot starter called up from the minor leagues to fill in for your staff ace can put up a line like this one:

9.0

3

0

0

0

1

8

Also, said spot starter? Is 3-0 on the season. That is pretty much the definition of pitching depth, and of course I genuflect humbly to the baseball gods in thanks for these blessings, lest my subsequent complaints here bring down their ire.

But seriously. What. the fuck. was that. last night.

Things were thrown at the television in my house as the Red Sox stranded 85 runners on base and flew out to stupid Mark Teahen every second at-bat. Or at least that's what it felt like. By the 5th inning, "Shut up, Mark Teahen," had become the catchphrase between me and Julia as we watched. If I never see stupid Teahen and his stupid face again it will be too soon.

What drove me especially crazy about last night, other than the fact that the Red Sox and this infuriating offense couldn't BUY a freakin' run, making Tim Wakefield Disease live up to its name, was the sense of complacency that seemed to emanate from Sox players. Manny's always a lollygagger, but he seemed especially casual about wall-balls that came his way last night. Even Mike Lowell looked apathetic in the field in the later innings. Papi continues to worry me, more and more every time I see him play--last night he managed to FLY into a double play. Give me a freakin' break. Overall, the general feeling by the time the Sox were down 3-1 in the 5th was like there were a 10-run deficit instead of two.

What makes it so aggravating is that we KNOW this team is better than this. They know it, too, although that may be the problem. It's starting to look like they figure they have games against teams like KC in the bag, and confidence may be turning to complacency in games like last night's. Nothing is more frustrating to watch.

In fairness, they were facing a starter they'd never seen before last night from KC, and we all know how it is when that happens. Not that that's any less aggravating.

In general I went to bed last night with a sour taste in my mouth. I'm beginning to wonder who the real Sox are this year--the overachievers of April and May or the underachievers of the last two months. There was no excuse for a team with serious playoff hopes to lose a game like that one last night, and I can't help but feel like a team with even the slightest fire in its belly would've played it differently.

I think it's great we've become shinier, happier people since the World Series win--that's as it should be. I'm glad fans at Fenway have been taking the high road with Julio Lugo, for example. But if we see many more games like that, just like this team, Fenway's got another side to it, too, and we could be looking at Mr. Hyde all around.