Apparently, these were the guys wearing the Red Sox jersey's today in Florida versus the Minnestoa Twins. 3 different times the boys ran themselves into outs, sounding a lot like it looks when I'm playing baseball with Ciera and Rakes: running to third instead of first, or skipping second altogether and running a straight line across the pitchers mound to third base.
Tek, of all people, got caught napping off second, and Julio Lugo, who I want to embrace but is making me long for the days of the OC, gets caught stealing third AND over running first on an RBI single. It's spring training, and I'm not gonna get my knickers in a bunch, but c'mon guys: this is baseball 101. It's not like this is your first ride around the block or anything.
It sounds like Schilling looked like Schilling, and I expect nothing less. He's feeling "disrespected" over the team brass and their line in the sand over the contract extension, and I'm fine with that. Curt Schilling pitching with a chip on his shoulder has me smiling inside: he's got something to prove, and by the end of June, I think he'll have his extension in his hip pocket. Theo and his posse just want to see if the big man still has it before forking over the money, and while I'd have given it to him 2 months ago, I've got no problem with them wanting to test drive the car before they buy it.
Saw where Coco Crisp had a good day, and I expect a good year is coming for the man with the name that belongs on a cereal box. His finger never healed all the way last year, and if he don't hit 20 dingers and steal at least 20 bases, I'll go out back and hug a tree for my little brother Matt. Dude is just too good and has too much upside to not rebound and have a monster year. If you did not see that balls out catch he made last year, going horizontal with Fenway's center field grass, you missed the catch of the year.
On the home front, Trots's fever has broken, but he's picked up some freaky rash as a result of this virus that makes him look like he's got the chicken pox. He's been imitating A-Rod the last few days: whiny, crying, and wanting to be held at all times. Rakes, Ciera, and I are having a kickball tournament for the championship of the world in the playroom/foyer/dining room and so far the 2 of them are tied, 1 to 1. Angies miniature Christmas tree in the foyer is the only casualty so far: Ciera kicked an AWESOME shot that unfortunately took out Trot's Christmas ornament with his name on it. A small price to pay for athletic dominance.
Finally, this goes out to Tex. I've had Western Union on standby all weekend in case you needed bail money, and now that it is Sunday night, I'm gonna issue the stand down order. I was here if you needed me Texas, but it seems like you've made it through. I expect pictures and stories post-haste at your blog, so don't let me down.