When your CF makes like Spiderman, climbs the outfield wall, and falls rear end over teakettle to try and catch a home run, he really deserves his starting pitcher making it out of the 3rd inning.
Unfortunately, that didn't happen tonight; Clay Buchholz was all over the place. Hits, runs, walks, hit batsmen, home runs, and I'm pretty sure I saw him doing the Macarena pantsless at one point.
Look, I love the kid and all, but coming into the playoff stretch the last thing the Red Sox need is a headcase trying to find his way around the mound. It's obvious to anyone who has been watching him pitch for the past few months he's completely lost out there and no matter how much we want him to find himself, it's not happening. At least not while he's in the bigs.
Give me Bartolo Colon and his overweight body any day of the week right now; he's a Cy Young winner who's seen it all before. And inter league play is over so we don't have to worry about him throwing out his back while doing his best impression of Babe Ruth at the plate. At least until the World Series.
On a night when Tampa Bay lost we had a shot to make up a game with a win; instead, our starter was in the clubhouse before the 4th inning, the bullpen went into gas can mode, and we end the day just like we started it; 4.5 games back of the Devil Rays.
I'm not even gonna go into my theory that involves Bud Selig, voodoo dolls, and Hank Steinbrenner chanting over incense. What's done is done and tomorrow is a new day; the boys are off and headed to the Great White North for a 3 game set with the Blue Jays.
Bottom line is it isn't April anymore. It's fixing to be August the 21st, we're in 2nd place in the AL East and clinging to the wild card lead; the time for trying to get guys right left the building a long time ago. I don't care if it's the entire Mitchell Report leading the charge, I just wanna make the post-season.
OK, that's a lie but you get my drift. Give me the best possible team you can, night after night, and I'll get all up on my high horse after the season. This team is too good and too deep not to get to October, where I'll have to deal with Dane Cook commercials and inane commentary from Buck and McCarver every night.
It's a small price to pay, but I'm willing to deal with it.
Somebody pass me the aspirin.
2014: By the Numbers
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