TATB Live: World Series, Game 4

I'm rooting for more than the Red Sox tonight; I'm rooting for the story, and I imagine you know exactly what I mean.

As appropriate as it might be for ace Josh Beckett to pitch the clincher tomorrow night, if you have a sentimental bone in your body, you want Jon Lester to be the one to deliver the Red Sox their second World Championship in four seasons a few hours from now. We all know that a year ago, the young lefty had far greater concerns than throwing a baseball. Now here he is, a 23-year-old cancer survivor poised to pitch a game we will all remember. Something tells me he's up for the challenge.

Other pregame notes: Trisha Yearwood sings a lovely anthem. For the record, I'm pretty sure she's not a Beckett ex. She looks more like Gagne's type . . . In the Fox pregame, Kevin Kennedy sagely notes that the Sox have some good young homegrown players (I'm pretty sure he first heard of Jacoby Ellsbury around this time last night), Joe Girardi offers a non-denial denial on whether he's the Yankees' next manager, and Jeannie Zelasko wrestles the last chocolate coconut donut from Mark Grace's grasp. The more I see of this crew and the nitwits on ESPN, the more I appreciate TC and the Eck . . . The great Fred Willard, reading the Sox lineup: "David Ortiz, no designated hitter, he wants to play first base, YOU TELL HIM NO!"

All right, let's get this done, the less drama the better. As much as I dearly miss my angst and a lament my lost identity as a Sox fan, for as much as I secretly enjoyed the stomach-churning, soul-crushing misery inflicted upon me by Grady Little in '03, I suppose I could live with a sweep, a sequel to "Faith Rewarded," and chance to watch Papelbon make a fool out of himself during the victory parade. Yes, I suppose I could.

FIRST INNING
Ellsbury slaps Aaron Cook's second pitch into left field for the a double. In a related note, Coco Crisp catches himself daydreaming about how he'll look in a Braves uniform next season.

Cook is the Rockies' version of Jake Westbrook, an occasionally effective sinkerballer, but he hasn't pitched since August 10. The Sox shouldn't lack for baserunners. It's a matter of converting them into runs and taking the Rockies out of it early. (Wow, that was Tim McCarver-like wisdom there, was it not? Excuse me while I take a swig of Metamucil.)

Well, there's one. Ellsbury smartly advances to third on Dustin Pedroia's grounder to the left side, and David Ortiz makes it 1-0, Sox with a rocket through the right side of the drawn-in infield. Manny bounces into a double play to end the inning, but the Rockies definitely have to be left with a "here we go again" vibe.

Rockies go down 1-2-3 in their half. I'd be glad to write that sentence, oh, eight more times tonight.

My 3-year-old daughter just came out to give me one more hug goodnight, yell her patented "GoRedSoxGoRedSoxGoRedSox!," and remind me to "drink your beers." Right now I'm feeling an odd (and surely misplaced) sense of pride.

SECOND INNING
Cook breezes through Mike Lowell, J.D. Drew, and Jason Varitek in order. It's funny, this is one of the few nights during the postseason that I haven't been at the Globe, and while we have the game on in the office, obviously we're too buried trying to make first edition to pay attention to the nuances of the telecasts. So, having just noticed this, I have to ask: Does a commercial break pass without the fake camaraderie of a Budweiser ad or a completely uninteresting promo for "House"? I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

Todd Helton, Mr. Rockie, leads off with a rocketed double to left. Ellsbury cuts it off and seems to have the ball just after Helton hits the first base bag, but he still beats the throw comfortably to second base. Yes, I think the Rockies have paid attention to the scouting report on the kid's arm. Let's just say he's going to follow in the Damon/Crisp tradition of noodle arms in center field, though his is slightly stronger than both of theirs - his throws reach home plate in seven hops rather than eight.

I've said it all along: David Ortiz is not a bad first baseman. Sure, he has the range of Mo Vaughn after a KFC Snack Bowl bender, and playing D takes a fierce toll on his knees . . . but he has excellent hands, and has Jeff Suppan can tell you, his throwing arm is strong and accurate for the position. I mention this, as I'm sure you know, because he just made a smooth scoop to spare Julio Lugo a throwing error. Youkilis wouldn't have done it any better.

After Ryan Spillborghs (whom I like a lot as a fourth outfielder-type, but whom Rob Dibble killed on 'EEI the other day) flied to center, Lester fell into his maddening habit of nibbling, and walked Brad Hawpe, who has been atrocious in this series. He slips out of it without allowing Helton to score, however, getting hot-hitting Yorvit Torrealba to ground to Lugo for the third out. I should note that Lugo made his two best defensive plays of the season last night, has been steady all postseason with the glove, and is even swinging the bat well in the series. If he and Drew keep this up, Theo's second-guessers are going to have no one left to complain about. (And I include myself among them.)

THIRD INNING
Cook gets the Sox in order again, retiring Ellsbury on a slow grounder to Kaz Matsui to end the inning. So far, the Sox have just two hits. Don't know about you, but I'm starting to miss Josh Fogg.

You think Papi really plays badminton? And if so, does he call the thing a "birdie" or a "shuttlecock"? These are the kinds of questions Tina Cervasio should be asking.

Gah. And now we have our first episode of the Manny In Coors Field Adventures. Matsui rips a liner to left that, oh, 90 percent of major league left fielders would probably catch. Unfortunately, Manny is in the other 10 percent, and it soars just past his reach and rattles around for a double. All of the statistical measures that I'm aware of say Manny is a horrendous defensive player, and while I happen to think he's made himself at least an adequate Fenway outfielder, this play gave us a sense of how much his home park masks his lack of range. (Part of it, I think, is that Manny has only one speed: ambling.)

Lester whiffs Troy Tulowitzki for the second time tonight. I saw the Rockies a lot this season on the MLB.com package (in part because they're so damn fun to watch as far as NL teams go, but mostly because I had Matt Holliday in a semi-lucrative fantasy league), and I think between here and in my Fox column I've made my appreciation for Tulowitzki apparent. You watch him play for any length of time, you can't help but think he's a bigger, rangier, less metrosexual version of Derek Jeter. The kid is going to be the Colorado cornerstone for the next decade. Now, that said, this series for him thus far can be filed under Learning Experience. To put it another way: The shortstop in the Boston dugout has been much better, and that's not something we've said about Julio Lugo, well, ever.

(And while I was writing Tulowitzki's biography, Lester whiffed Holliday. So far, so good, kid.)

FOURTH INNING
As Pedroia leads off the inning, Ken Rosenthal (who I hope to meet someday at the FoxSports company picnic, just to see if he really is three feet shorter that Eric Wedge, as it appeared during an ALCS postgame interview) tells us that Pedroia refers to his at-bats as "the laser show" and that his cockiness is an "endless source of amusement" to his veteran teammates. It really is a tribute to Pedroia's ability and "I'll-show-you" attitude that he could be such a vital part of this lineup and clubhouse after looking so overmatched in April. If you don't like Dustin Pedroia, you don't like the Red Sox. (By the way: Pedroia could definitely call Rosenthal "little fella.")

Pedroia grounds out, Papi pops out, Manny lines out, and I'm really beginning to become suspicious of this Aaron Cook character. Just where has he been the last two months, anyway?

Francona, when asked during those usually insipid in-dugout interviews what Lester's pitch count is tonight: " 'Bout 180." The dry wit (teetering on sarcasm) is a tremendously underrated aspect of Tito's appeal.

Joe Buck usually oozes smarm, but I have to admit, he's made a couple of good points tonight, especially in noting that the 2004 Sox might have had more talent than this team, but that the '07 version is set up for the future much better than the veteran-laden Idiots were. I hadn't thought of it that way, but he's right.

Lester retires the first two hitters, walks Spillborghs, then gets Hawpe on a popup to end it. Very, very impressive. If he keeps this up, he might be pitching Tim Wakefield into retirement.

FIFTH INNING
Good things happening. Lowell leads off with a double into the left field canyon. Drew grounds out without advancing the runner, but Varitek follows with a ground single to right, and DeMarlo Hale sends Lowell despite Hawpe's cannon. It looked like it would be a bang-bang play at the plate, but Lowell makes a beautiful slide and touches the plate with his hand for a 2-0 Boston lead. If there's any justice, upon returning to the dugout Lowell was greeted by Theo holding a three-year, $39 million contract offer.

We always hear that Lester is one of the purest athletes on the team, one of those three-sport-captain types who shoots an 85 his first time on a golf course and can dunk a basketball while wearing street clothes. But he doesn't particularly athletic with a baseball bat in his hands, and he fails to get a bunt down in three tries with two on and one out. Ellsbury follows by striking out (the Rockies have apparently figured out he'll fish for the low-and-in stuff), and we might consider this the first real lost opportunity of the night.

SIXTH INNING
See, this is where I really miss my angst. The Sox have a 2-0 lead, hardly insurmountable, and Manny Delcarmen, who has spent the postseason wearing a wide-eyed, "Holy bleep, I can't believe I'm pitching for the Red Sox in the playoffs!" look on his face, is warming up in the bullpen. If this were, say, 2003, I'd be chomping my fingernails and wondering how they were going to lose this one. Instead, I'm nursing a Shipyard Pumpkinhead, casually typing in my inanities here, and fully expecting that somehow, the Sox will be celebrating in Denver tonight. If enjoying this likable, well-run, winning baseball team means we've lost our identities, well dammit, I hope we never find them.

By the way:



Dude, I know. I don't believe it, either.

Pedroia, Papi, and Manny hit three straight ground outs, Cook is cruising, and I sure hope Lester can give them another easy inning or two.

All right, now I'm a little nervous. (IT'S NOT ANGST, LOBEL!!!) After retiring Holliday and Helton on, what, four pitches, Lester walks Atkins on a 3-2 count, and that after it looked like he had struck him out on ball three. I'm not going to question Francona's decision to remove Lester for Delcarmen here, because heaven knows Tito is managing circles around everyone this postseason (just as he did in '04). It's just that Lester has been so good, and Delcarmen so shaky lately, and . . . Delcarmen blows Spillborghs away. Tito, I hope I get the chance to buy you a beer someday so you can tell me how you keep a clear head (figuratively as well as literally, I suppose) with nitwits like me second-guessing you at every turn. Hey, did I ever mention I wanted the Sox to hire Glenn Freakin' Hoffman after Grady was sent back to Hillbillyville? I didn't? Well, let's keep it that way.

SEVENTH INNING
Lowell, solo homer, 3-0 Sox. PAY. THE. MAN. And that does it for Cook, who induced 13 groundball outs and did everything the Rockies could have asked for given his inaction the last two months.

Says Buck: "What a night for Mike Lowell. This could be his last night in a Red Sox uniform." You think so, Nepotism Boy? Well, aren't you going to be surprised when Theo presents him with a four-year, $52 million contract offer between innings.

Jeremy Affeldt in for the Rockies. I have never understood why this kid isn't a consistently excellent big-league pitcher - he has some wildness issues, but he has an unbelievable arm, and he's a lefty. I'd rather have him than every single Javier Lopez ever to play in the big leagues. (Official TATB Sportswriting Binky Joe Posnanski had a melancholy anecdote about being dazzled by Affeldt one hopeful spring day during his Royals days in a recent blog post.)

Lonestar does a fine countrified rendition of God Bless America. By the way, didn't they play at the Red Sox kickoff dinner that NESN showed three times a day in April? I wonder if the Rockies are aware of their dual loyalties. (And no, none of them dated Josh Beckett, either. That I'm aware of.)

Affeldt does the job. Nine outs away.

Well, here we go. Hawpe takes Delcarmen deep to cut it to 3-1, and I hate to say it, but you could see it coming. When Delcarmen is wild high, it's because he's overthrowing . . . and he's wild high right now. As the Sox infield coverges on Delcarmen to settle him down (Papi was particularly animated), the Fox cameras show Mike Timlin and The Hero In The Dark are up in the bullpen for the Sox. I wonder how many outs Okajima and Papelbon are capable of getting tonight.

Delcarmen retires Torrealba on a flyout, then Cory Sullivan singles, and that'll do it for the pride of Hyde Park. Timlin is coming in, and while he had nothing last night, I have faith in him in this situation that I didn't have in Manny D. This might be one of those situations were experience and poise is preferable to pure ability.

Sit, Matsui. Huge whiff for Timlin. Now he must get Tulowitzki, because Holliday as the go-ahead run is an absolutely terrifying thought.

Bless his 41-year-old, slopballin'-huntin'-fishin'-possum'-killin' soul, but Timlin whiffs Tulowitzki on a 3-2 pitch, and that right there is why Tito was so loyal to Timlin when he looked cooked in April and nitwits like me were urging the Sox to move on. That may have been the pivotal moment tonight, and just as he did so often in the '03 and '04 playoffs, Timlin came through.

Remember all the times I said Tulowitzki reminds me of Jeter? Still does.

EIGHTH INNING
This clown . . .


. . . leads off as a pinch hitter with an absolute moonshot to left, and it's 4-1, Sox. Hey, we always heard Bobby Kielty mashed lefties. He sure picked a swell time to finally show it.

Rosenthal jumps in with perhaps the first worthwhile "breaking news" report by a sideline reporter in the history of television: Alex Rodriguez will turn down the Yankees' five-year, $150-million offer and opt out of his contract, the alleged reason being he is concerned with the direction of the Yankees.

Buck and Rosenthal are speculating that A-Rod may be with the Sox next season, especially if Lowell isn't back. I'm sure I am looking at this with sentiment rather than logic right now, but screw A-Rod; Mike Lowell belongs on this team, not him. Slappy's made to be a villain. And by the way, you're telling me Boras didn't plant this story for this precise moment? He can't put a price on the publicity. I might think he was trying to steal the Sox' thunder, but since it makes the Yankees' look bad, I'll look at it as a rich dessert after a delicious meal. It's not necessary, but it sure tastes good.

Okajima in for the Sox. Bless him for his warrior mentality, but he has to be exhausted. His arm must feel like he spent the past five seasons pitching for Joe Torre.

Holliday grounds out (0 for 4), but Helton pokes one to left (he's a perma-helmet away from being John Olerud at this point), bringing up Atkins with one out. Huge batter here.

Dammit, I shouldn't have said anything. Atkins, who was long overdue, tees off on a 3-1 pitch, cutting the margin to 4-3. That's all for Oki, who I have a hard time faulting considering it seems like he pitched a high-stress inning or two every single day all summer and fall. Anyway, here comes Papelbon. Does he have five outs in that right arm tonight?

Spillborghs is making Papelbon work. It's imperative to keep him off base with Hawpe coming up . . . and Spillborghs grounds to Lugo as I'm pecking that out.

Hawpe, after at least one hideous swing, hit it on the screws to left-center . . . and did I mention that Coco Crisp is in as a defensive replacement, with Ellsbury moving over? Three outs to go. A couple extra runs wouldn't hurt in the top of the ninth, however.

NINTH INNING
Two outs, top of the ninth, one run lead, and Joe Buck is conceding everything to the Sox, calling them "the standard by which all other teams are measured - including the New York Yankees." It's a lovely sentiment, it really is . . . but can we save the freakin' bouquets until there are three more outs, please? At least McCarver is silent. Must have dozed off again.

Tek grounds to Jamey Carroll (who looks like Mike Piazza's Mine-Me), and to the bottom of the ninth we go . . .

Torrealba. Pedroia. Two outs to go.

IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE? SOMEONE PLEASE RE-START MY HEART! (Seriously, if that's Manny out there, I say Carroll's ball Cansecos off his head and we have a tie game. Also, I'm pretty sure what I feel for Jacoby Ellsbury right now is how my sister felt about Simon LeBon when she was 12. Or maybe it was Nick Rhodes, can't remember. God, I'm so nervous I'm having "Tiger Beat" flashbacks.)

Seth Smith. Swinging. Strike three.

Game over. Series over. Red Sox win.

Also . . .

WHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(No, seriously.)

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

(For the record, the only angst I feel right now is that I didn't buy a friggin' couch in April.)

* * *

So my little boy, 14 months, just woke up, something that may or may not have had to do with the gutteral howl that came from the living room. Curiously, the same thing happened when his big sister was eight months old and the Sox had just ended 86 years of disappointment, agony, and yes, angst. Like I did with Leah three years ago, I brought Alex out, pointed to the TV, and said, "The Red Sox just won the World Series. Someday, that will mean a lot to you." Oh, this victory doesn't lift a burden or end any fictional curse or shut up that #*$**$ Yankees fan that's been on your case for years, but go ahead and try to tell me the joy doesn't wash over you just the same.

I'm Globe-bound the next few days - I keep hearing something about a special section - but I'll be back in the next few days to crank out TATB's annual season wrapup. Given that I started this site in large part because I regretted not having an outlet to write about the magic of '04, I promise that when I get the story of 2007 posted, it will be done right. In the meantime, I'm going to pop open that last Shipyard or two or six, lean back on the couch I wish I had replaced eight months ago, and savor this. I imagine I'll throw a few more notes on here in the next hour or so, but if you're checking out to go celebrate, I just want to say thanks for joining me tonight, and always. This - this - is why I do this. -- CHAD

* * *





POSTGAME STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS WHILE CHUGGING BEERS, FLIPPING CHANNELS, AND SAVORING THE CELEBRATION: Mike Lowell, World Series MVP. All right, six years, $84 million, but that's the final offer. (Seriously, he'd better be under contract by the time he boards the duck boat.) . . . Just caught Gammons talking about Jon Lester's performance tonight. I thought he was going to cry, and I can't blame him. I agree with the commenter on this post: That's the best game Lester ever pitched. I had my doubts about this kid before he got sick, wondering if his failure to trust his stuff would hinder his ability to live up to his talent. After all he's gone through - and how he came through it - how can anyone ever doubt him about anything again? . . . The 2004 team will always mean the most to me - you know what they say about never forgetting your first. But this one is special in its own way, and anyway, that comparison is for another day. One of the truly unique aspects of this team is the impact of the young players. Pedroia is going to own the city - he's a Dirt Dog with actual talent. Ellsbury is a jolt of electricity. We know what Lester accomplished tonight, and Papelbon has been established for so long that it almost feels like he was here in '04. Theo's dream of a "player development machine" has become a reality . . . NESN just showed footage of the '04 celebration, and I swear on a holy stack of media guides, Royce Clayton was in the middle of that one too . . .I've said it before, and I'm guessing a lot more of you agree with me now: There's no one else I'd rather have managing the Boston Red Sox than Terry Francona. He's now 8-0 in the World Series and 22-9 in the postseason. He's Joe Torre with a little bit of an edge and a knack for handling a bullpen. He's the right man at the right time in the right town. That "Francoma" b.s. has always been born from the miniscule minds of morons. I hope he never has to hear it again. It's time he got the universal appreciation from Sox fans he deserves . . . Timlin just brought Wakefield to the verge of tears, interrupting the knuckleballer's interview with Don Orsillo to praise him for being such a selfless teammate. Nice gesture by Timlin, and it clearly meant a lot to Wakefield. They're getting emotional in their old age . . . Julio Lugo and J.D. Drew are World Champions. Chew on that for a minute. And you know what? The way they played the last seven days, they damn sure deserve it . . . All right, I'm officially gassed, in a delirious way, of course. But before I go, I'll sign off with the sage words of an old friend, the most optimistic Sox fan I know (he knows who he is):

FIRE UP THE DUCK BOATS!!!!

(And to all, a good night.)

(P.S. - How'd the Pats do today?)

Happy trails, No. 11

Catching up on some things while waiting for the impending monsoon/blizzard/hurricane/locusts/etc. . . .


A half-dozen years ago, before Mo Lewis's helmet was violently introduced to his rib cage and New England Patriots' destiny was forever altered, would you have ever thought that Drew Bledsoe's retirement would barely register a blip on the Boston sports radar screen? I suppose a certain fade to irrelevance is natural when your successor achieves all the things that you were supposed to somehow couldn't. Still, it left us a bit disappointed that Bledsoe's departure from the NFL after 14 seasons wasn't more of a story around here.

I mean, sure, we all know about Bledsoe's flaws - he had the mobility of the Route 1 dinosaur, he was reluctant to alter his let-it-fly game to fit the Belichick/Weis offense, he was a rocket-armed prodigy (he started as true freshman at Washington State) who didn't always seem to care that much about enhancing his secondary quarterbacking skills, and it was largely his own fault that he never quite became what his talent (and that legendary Minnesota game) suggested he could be. The truth is, once Tom Brady took a few games' worth of snaps, it was apparent to everyone but Bledsoe's blind loyalists that the new guy was just the jolt of energy the franchise needed.

But without No. 11, we probably never get introduced to No. 12, for had Bledsoe not arrived in New England in 1993, along with a certain gruff coach with a fondness for doing his own grocery shopping, who knows what might have become of this franchise. Maybe it would have ended up in St. Louis (though if I recall correctly, Bob Kraft was already close to purchasing the team when Parcells was hired). More likely, the Patriots would have continued to be the sport's preeminent laughingstock under the "leadership" of Rick Mirer.

In his early years, Bledsoe gave the Patriots immediate on-field credibility, a signature player who, when he was on, was the most breathtaking pure passer east of Green Bay. Through the seasons, we came to appreciate other attributes: he was as tough as old shoe leather, he played hurt (quick, name another quarterback who won a game in the last seconds with a pin sticking out of his finger), and that in the face of personal disappointment, he still remained a good teammate. If you weren't happy for him after the 2001 AFC Championship game, then you weren't a Patriots fan.

Did we wish, especially during those maddening Pete Carroll years, that he'd have dedicated himself more to improving rather than retreating to his Montana getaway mere moments after the season's final buzzer? Well, sure, and had he done so, maybe he'd be a Hall of Famer rather than a pretty good quarterback with gaudy stats who somehow lost three different starting jobs in the final six seasons of his career. But we've got a feeling that Bledsoe is okay with his football legacy, just as long as he has his family, his health, and his place in mountains. He walks away from the game knowing what we all should remember: there's no shame in being the second-best quarterback in Patriots history.

* * *

I think we've found the early frontrunner for Red Sox quote of the year, plucked straight from Mnookin's blog.

“I’d never do anything like that. There are f----ing kids in the stands."

– Brendan Donnelly, when asked if he’d made an obscene gesture at Seattle's Jose Guillen.

Mark these words: If this guy can still get it done, he's going to be huge here. Donnelly takes *%&# from no one, yet by most accounts he's as down to earth as they come. Sounds like a New England kind of guy to me.

* * *

Other Red Sox remnants: I don't care what Buster Olney says, Dice-K reminds me of a young Mike Mussina more than any other contemporary pitcher. After two starts, I'm putting him down for 17 wins and a 3.20 ERA, and yes, I'm deliberately being conservative . . . Seriously, how sick was Felix Hernandez the other night? That might have been the most dominating pitching performance I've seen since Pedro's heyday. The Sox hitters had no chance. It'll be fascinating to see what he can accomplish if he stays healthy and away from the Cool Ranch Doritos . . . I realize Josh Beckett started out pretty well last season, winning his first four starts if I recall correctly, but right now he looks vastly superior to anything we saw from him a year ago. The true test will come when he has to use his curve and changeup to get outs in a crucial situation, but it sure looks like he's evolving into a pitcher from the mule-stubborn thrower he was a season ago . . . Tito Francona needs to make a point to work Eric Hinske and Wily Mo Pena into the lineup more often, not only to keep the two former regulars from rusting on the bench, but to keep the likes of Mike Lowell, J.D. Drew, Coco Crisp, and even Manny from wearing down over the long haul. I actually wouldn't mind seeing Hinske take more than a few of Lowell's starts at third . . . There's a fun thread going over at Sons of Sam Horn, with posters recalling the most electric they ever saw Fenway. Mine would be Game 3 of the 2003 ALCS, when ol' Trot Dirty Hat hit the walkoff homer off Rich Harden. I was working, and Fenway was shaking so much as he circled the bases that it was hard to line up the keys on the laptop . . . Shhh, don't tell the 'EEI imbeciles, but Francona's shrewd eighth-inning use of Jonathan Papelbon Friday night was straight out of the Bill James/Closer By Committee playbook. You use your best reliever to get crucial outs, whether that's in the ninth inning, the eighth, or the sixth. For at least one night, it worked to perfection.

* * *

The heat seems to be increasing on Danny Ainge these days, and if he gives M.L. Rivers a contract extension without an out clause, I'll agree that he deserves to be scalded. But I've said it before, and I'll say it right up until we know the results of the draft lottery: Ainge deserves credit for taking a dull but decent team that had two quality players and absolutely no young talent or chance of winning anything substantial, and having the Spauldings to blow it up and start over. Three years later, he has an atrocious team with at least a half-dozen talented kids . . . and a potential winning lottery ticket. Given that the goal should be to get that 17th banner my any means necessary, I have no problem with that strategy, even with the inherent risk that they could end up with the likes of Joakim Noah once the ping-pong balls have settled. Hey, if he enters 2007-08 with a starting five of Oden, Jefferson, Szczerbiak, Pierce, and Rondo, with, depending on potential trades, Perkins, West, Gomes, Allen, and Green on the bench, how can you not feel pretty good about about the rebuilding job Ainge has done?

* * *



Damn, there sure are some fringe benefits to being an actor, huh? If I were Will Ferrell, I might never wash my hands again. And as if we needed yet another reason why Jenna Fischer is the Official Muse of TATB (Non-Wife Division), there's her take on filming what we now consider the greatest scene in the history of celluloid:

“The first take is like [Will] said, ‘Okay Jenna, you're married and I'm married and no funny business. Anything that makes you uncomfortable I want you to tell me. I just want you to feel comfortable.’ I said, ‘Okay, let’s just go for it and make it funny.’ He's like, ‘Yeah.’ So we just went for it and as soon as they yelled cut, his hands came off like he was touching a hot iron. He was so respectful. But then around hour 8 [of filming] it's so normal that they yelled cut and we are discussing the scene with the director and I said, ‘Yeah, dude, your hands are still on my boobs.’ And that was cool, but when we went to lunch and he was still squeezing my boobs and then that night at my car... I haven't been in a lot of films, but he said that was normal - but I'm still not sure. I'm not positive that that was right. He said that was okay and he suggested to promote the film he should play with my boobs. I think that's cool, right? That's how it's done. That's what he said. Yeah.”

Cute, funny, and down with some good old-fashioned boob humor? I don't care what you haters say - she is perfect.

* * *

I've received 20 or so emails asking me if there's any truth to the little nugget buried here - not to mention a puzzled query from one of my bosses. While it's always flattering when someone says nice things about your work, there's a part of me that's annoyed by the conjecture, and I suppose I should address it. So let me break down my professional status this way (I'll try not to sound like a Simmonsish egomaniacal dinkus here):

Lets's see . . . I just hooked up an affiliation with FoxSports and, soon, Boston.com . . . I get to blog here about the Sox and anything else I'm obsessed with (you did read the above item, right?) without having to deal with idiot pro athletes and impossible deadlines that would surely jade the perspective I've managed to maintain as a fan . . . I live in lovely coastal Maine and don't really feel like commuting to freakin' Lawrence . . . I've dreamed of working at the Globe since I was a kid and have so much fun with and respect for the people I work with that sometimes I can't believe I'm so fortunate . . . I work four nights a week now for what I'd guess is more compensation than I'd make there in seven days . . . And because of the short week, I get to spend more time with my wife and two young kids.

But other than that, yup, I'd consider it.

* * *

As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


As far as we're concerned, there can never be enough homage paid to the most courageous man in baseball history.

The James gang

Since we got an email box full of feedback regarding our recent look at the Bill James Handbook's projections for the 2007 Red Sox, I figured we should revisit the the numbers James and the Baseball Info Solutions wizards projected for last year's Sox, and find out just how accurate they ultimately were.

One more thing: If you liked our take on this year's Handbook, check out my pal Dave D'Onofrio's James/Sox breakdown in the Concord Monitor. He did it first, starting the tradition before the 2006 season, and he does it better.

Okay, let's break it down . . .

HITTERS
Jason Varitek
Projected: .266 average, 20 homers, 75 RBIs in 492 at-bats.
Actual: .238-12-55 in 355 at-bats.
Comment: Injuries played a part, but they always do in the inevitable and rapid decline of a 30-something catcher.

Kevin Youkilis
Projected: .278-14-68 in 500 at-bats.
Actual: .279-13-72 in 569 at-bats.
Comment: Bingo.

Julio Lugo
Projected: .286-9-61, 28 steals in 597 at-bats.
Actual: .278-12-37 in 435 at-bats.
Comment: How did he drive in just 37 runs? That's an Enzo Hernandez-like ratio.

Mike Lowell
Projected: .269-16-72 in 465 at-bats.
Actual: .284-20-80 in 573 at-bats.
Comment: And I think we'd all be thrilled - and maybe a little surprised - if Lowell matches his '06 comeback numbers.

Manny Ramirez
Projected: .305-45-141 in 587 at-bats.
Actual: .321-35-102 in 449 at-bats.
Comment: It appears the sabermetric dudes are yet to come up with a variable that accounts for a hitter's unexpected late-summer vacation.

Coco Crisp
Projected: .296-13-64 in 557 at-bats.
Actual: .264-8-36 in 413 at-bats.
Comment: His inaugural Boston season was sidetracked by a broken finger, and we're still yet to see the player who was so dynamic in '04-'05 for Cleveland.

J.D. Drew
Projected: .295-25-70 in 444 at-bats.
Actual: .283-20-100 in 494 at-bats.
Comment: I'm curious why James projected 25 homers but just 70 RBIs.

David Ortiz
Projected: .289-40-132 in 589 at-bats.
Actual: .287-54-139 in 558 at-bats.
Comment: The lesson, as always: Underestimate Big Papi's power at your own risk.

Wily Mo Pena
Projected: .259-21-57 in 340 at-bats.
Actual: .301-11-42 in 276 at-bats.
Comment: The ultimate baseball tease: If he can hit .301 while whiffing in one-third of his at-bats, what might he do if he ever learns to make consistent contact?

Doug Mirabelli
Projected: .244-6-20 in 135 at-bats.
Actual: .193-6-25 in 161 at-bats.
Comment: Projections were based on him playing for the Padres. How I wish they still were.

PITCHERS
Curt Schilling
Projected: 14 wins, 7 losses, 3.31 ERA, 193 strikeouts in 190 innings.
Actual: 15-7, 3.97, 183 Ks in 204 innings.
Comment: All in all, a fairly accurate prediction of his comeback season.

Josh Beckett
Projected: 14-8, 3.42, 192 Ks in 194 innings, 17 homers allowed.
Actual: 16-11, 5.01, 158 Ks in 204 innings, 36 homers allowed.
Comment: Who would have predicted he'd allow more home runs than Manny would hit?

Julian Tavarez
Projected: 4.18 ERA in 61 innings.
Actual: 4.47 ERA in 98.6 innings.
Comment: His stats would have been worse, but he pitched well in September garbage time.

Tim Wakefield
Projected: 14-13, 4.11, 241 innings, 173 Ks.
Actual: 7-11, 4.63, 140 innings, 90 Ks.
Comment: Oddly, the projections anticipated career highs in innings pitched and strikeouts for the then-39 year old.

Jonathan Papelbon
No projection, because, dude, you just can't foresee sheer awesomeness!

Brendan Donnelly
Projected: 3.14 ERA in 62 innings.
Actual: 3.94 ERA in 64 innings.
Comment: And he'd have met his projections, darn it, had those meddling kids not caught him scuffing the ball the year before.

Mike Timlin
Projected: 3.63 ERA in 74 innings.
Actual: 4.36 ERA in 64 innings.
Comment: The former Mr. Reliable was never right in season's second half.

J.C. Romero
Projected: 4.25 ERA in 54 innings.
Actual: 6.70 ERA in 48.3 innings.
Comment: The 28/31 BB/K ratio was nearly as ghastly as the ERA.

Kyle Snyder
Projected: 4.87 ERA in 39 innings.
Actual: 6.02 ERA in 58.3 innings.
Comment: Am I wrong to think he wasn't nearly as ineffective as the numbers suggest?

Dice-K, Agent Zero, and other mysteries

Ten free minutes for me, 10 free Celtics phantom injuries for you . . .


1. Now, I'm certainly not suggesting he'll be as good, because I'm a believer that the 1998-2001 Pedro Martinez was a once-in-a-fan's-lifetime gift from the sports gods, that Petey did things on the mound that we'll never witness again. But - and here we try, probably in vain, to fight off the hyperbole - in terms of anticipation leading up to a start, then having anabsolutely thrilling performance justify every single syllable of hype . . . well, if that wasn't straight out of the Vintage Pedro playbook, I don't know what is. Wednesday just cannot get here soon enough.

2. If you've visited the space for any length of time, you surely realize that the Red Sox could have replaced Jerry Trupiano with Charlie Brown's teacher (Mwah-mwah-MannyRamirez-mwahmwhamwha-mwha) and I would have considered it a worthwhile tradeoff. But the fact that Dave O'Brien is Joe Castiglione's new partner is almost too good to be true - the new guy's got great pipes (as did Troop), but his feel for the pace of the game and professionalism is an immeasurable upgrade on his predecessor, who was more interested in talking Cardinals or putting together his All-Fish team (Troop: "You'd have Tim Salmon in right, Joe . . ." Joe: Groan) than actually attempting to call a decent game. What a pleasure it is to be able to turn on the Red Sox game and not be annoyed to the point that assaulting the steering wheel seems like a good idea. (I'll reserve my review of Glenn Geffner for a later date, since I haven't heard him for more than a few innings yet.)

3. You can't help but appreciate Jonathan Papelbon's willingness to move back to the bullpen, no matter whether he did it for the betterment of the team or because, as he is now claiming, closing is his personal preference. But you have to wonder how his agent feels, given that a quality starting pitcher (or even a not-so-quality rotation filler) tends to make considerably more money over the course of his career than do relief pitchers not named Mariano.

4. I suppose he could become more lackadaisical the more comfortable he becomes in Boston, but from what I've seen so far, J.D. Drew plays the game a lot harder than we've been led to believe. I like what I see - he's the most well-rounded player on this team, whether he's ultimately a Dirt Dog or not.

5. Tito Francona seems to have a lot of faith in Kyle Snyder considering he was pegged as the long relief guy, and I wouldn't be surprised if that faith proves justified. The former first-round pick has always had the stuff to succeed, just not the health.

6. Is it too soon to revoke my prediction that Coco Crisp will bounce back in Year 2 with the Sox? Man, he looks brutal, and assuming the Sea Dogs actually get any games in before June, Jacoby Ellsbury is going to be pressuring him for that center field job sooner rather than later. I realize it's only four games, but if Crisp keeps this up, he might be hitting routine grounders to second for the Pittsburgh Pirates by the All-Star break.


7. With the daffy, dazzling Gilbert Arenas down for the count with a knee injury, the NBA playoffs just got a whole lot less interesting. But at least it gives the him more time to continue to kick Curt Schilling's ample ass in their pursuit of the Dundie Award for the Best Blog By A Pro Athlete. Consider this snippet from a post after his injury:

I told them to cut the leg off a couple times. You know, cut it off and then bring it back to me when it was all healed. Because, you know, Heather Mills on Dancing with the Stars, she had that leg. I was saying I could borrow one of those and finish out the season. But they wasn’t going for that.

Hey, any NBA player who has the pop-culture awareness to joke about McCartney's peg-legged ex is cool with us.

8. Congressman Smerlas? Watching that overgrown hairball Chewbacca his way through a debate would be must-see TV, no doubt. But if he gets elected to any position higher than assistant meter maid, you'll be able to find me in the nearest bomb shelter, because that'd undoubtedly be a sign that end is near.

9. Well, I suppose this means I can't freely rip on Joe Buck anymore. But I'm damn sure going to find out if McCarver is still fair game.

10. As for today's Completely Random Football Card:


When I was a kid, I ripped up and mutilated every Jack Tatum football card I ever got. It was my childish way of paying tribute to a fallen Patriot I was too young to have seen play, but one whose teammates - and more importantly to me, my dad - spoke of with great reverence. There have been a lot of terrific columns written and anecdotes shared about Darryl Stingley the past few days, and I think this heartfelt email, from reader Shaun Kelly, belongs with them.

As a Patriot season-ticket holder throughout the 70's, I had the genuine honor of seeing every one of Stinger's touchdowns he made as a Patriot at Schaeffer Stadium. We used to wait outside the old clubhouse after home victories, and Darryl was always most cordial and polite to all of us who greeted him. Let me tell you, friend, he was a superb wide-receiver who was like Troy Brown with a little more ability.

I used to hate John Madden because he coached the Raiders, but the way he treated Darryl after his injury in Oakland , my attitude changed completely on the man. As you know, Coach Madden visited him every day in the hospital during his prolonged stay in the local Bay Area hospital. Madden then called him continuously for the rest of that year and even retired from the Raiders after the season because the injury so affected him. When he became a broadcaster and found himself doing Bears games in Chicago , John Madden invariably visited Darryl at his home there.

Steve Grogan once told me that Coach Fairbanks immediately took the play (an over-the-middle sprint in which that -------, Jack Tatum, nailed him) out of the Patriots playbook after Stingley's injury because he didn't want to subject his offensive players to hearing the play called in the huddle. Grogan then said, "It's not just that one of our players became paralyzed, it was Darryl. We loved him like a brother."

Stinger has his legs again. Heaven just got a hell of a receiver and an even better human being.

Rest in peace, No. 84.

2007 Red Sox preview capsule

Foul tips and other observations: Sure, there are questions that only the long summer and the grind of the schedule can answer, but on this, the most optimistic day of the sports year, we'll gladly say it with unbridled confidence: We like this team. A lot . . . The plusses? Start with the starters. Curt Schilling might look like he spent the offseason hanging out at White Castle with David Wells, but he spent the spring pumping fastballs on the black with impeccable command, and he's added a changeup that at the least will be useful. Right now, it seems the only thing that can stop him from winning 15 is carpal tunnel . . . Josh Beckett has as much raw ability as any pitcher in the AL who doesn't answer to "Yo, Johan," he's admittedly more focused and comfortable heading into year two of the Red Sox Experience, and if that filthy 83 mph changeup he's been showcasing this spring is any indication, he's finally got it through his skull that you can't survive in the AL East on fastballs alone. He's going to make John Farrell look very good . . . As for the Dice-K phenomenon, well, hell, what hasn't already been said, written and debated in the last six weeks? This is going to be a blast. The suggestion that he's Mike Mussina with a better fastball seems a reasonable one, though that tailing, screwball-like changeup is uniquely his own. I imagine he'll take his lumps now and then, particularly if he stays in the habit of leaving the ball up too often, but it's apparent that he has the stuff on the mound and off (his sunny personality has been a revelation) to live up to every last word of hype . . . While starting pitching should be the Sox's main advantage over the Yankees, it is far from their only strength . . . Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz remain the most dangerous 1-2 power punch of their generation, provided Manny doesn't suddenly quit midsummer to become a Canadian Mountie or follow some other such whim . . . Papi will try to increase his home run output for the seventh straight season (he'll do it), while Manny is just 30 homers shy of 500 (he'll get 'em) . . . Perhaps Papi will even wallops his way to the MVP award he's long deserved . . . Now that I'm past the sticker shock, I can admit I'm glad that J.D. Drew is a Red Sox. He might be the most complete player on the roster, and (crossing fingers) if he can stay healthy, he'll be the No. 5 hitter they were so desperate for a season ago . . . The bullpen should fall into place now that Jonathan Papelbon earned the season's first big save by returning to the closer role. I was intrigued by the idea as Papelbon as a starter, if only because I'd rather get 180 innings from my best pitcher instead of 80, but most other teams would sacrifice their mascot to have such a dilemma . . . The best guess here is that Brendan Donnelly will emerge as the most reliable setup guy. He certainly has the proper temperament for a late-inning, high-pressure role. The dude is intense . . . I'm not writing off Mike Timlin, either, in part because I'm pretty sure he could kill me and gut me with his bare hands. The fact that the Sox showed absolutely no hesitation in re-signing him after his September meltdown tells you they believe whatever went wrong was correctable . . . J.C Romero looked rejuventated this spring, though the fact that the Sox are carrying three lefties tells you they're not sure they have one they can trust . . . Which brings us to our concerns . . . No. 1 on our list is No. 33 in your program . . . At age 35, can Jason Varitek bounce back from an injury-plagued and ineffective (.238) season? History says no, with little room for argument . . . Even if he struggles at the plate - and his bat looked slug-slow this spring - he's something of an asset because of his defense, knowledge of the pitchers, and the fact that the decomposing Doug Mirabelli is the alternative . . . We also must wonder if Mike Lowell's feeble second half is a sign of an offensive decline . . . If Dustin Pedroia can prove the doubters wrong at one more level . . . If Julio Lugo will show us why the Sox front office long coveted a player whose production doesn't really justify the admiration . . . If Coco Crisp, hitting his prime at 27, will be the dynamic player he was in his final two years in Cleveland, and not the erratic, easy out he too often was in his disappointing Boston debut . . . But hey, every team in baseball has questions (see: Carl Pavano, Opening Day starter), and the Red Sox have fewer than most. Besides, it's bad form to fret and complain today. Winter is gone, the Red Sox are back, and anything seems possible.

Breakthrough player: Beckett. The trade will look a lot better after this season than it did after the last one.

Honorable mention: Dice-K. Is it really a breakthrough if we expect it? . . . Devern Hansack: Strike-throwing machine will be a factor in the bullpen before season is through . . . Pedroia: Loretta was the media's buddy, but let's admit it: he was a singles hitter with no range. The bar isn't set that high . . . Kason Gabbard: If Jon Lester doesn't eventually seize Julian Tavarez's spot in the rotation, this Francona favorite just might.

Breakdown player: Varitek. I do hope I'm wrong about this . . . but I don't think I am.

Dishonorable mention: Lowell: There's a reason the Sox shopped him around in the offseason. It's called selling high . . . Drew: His history suggests we must be concerned, but hopefully, he'll pull a Molitor and be healthier in his 30s than he was in his 20s.

Completely random Bill James stat: Wily Mo Pena had the longest average home run in the American League last season at 411 feet.

Bonus stat: Schilling tied Chicago's Jon Garland for the league lead in doubles allowed (51).

Bonus bonus stat: Kevin Youkilis led the league in pitches per plate appearance (4.43) and was second in pitches seen at 3,009. Cleveland's Grady Sizemore saw 3,019.

And what the hell, one more: Beckett led the league in pitches at 95 MPH or faster (1.072), which tells you all you need to know.

. . . and finally, a prediction: 95 wins, 67 losses, 2d in AL East, AL wild card winner, and several nights of October intrigue.

Grilling season

Ten free minutes for me, 10 free Manny-owned appliances for you . . .

1. Well, since the Twins weren't giving up Joe Nathan and the Yankees are yet to make Mariano Rivera available, I guess this is the next-best thing, right? Returning Jonathan Papelbon to the role in which he dominated like no other Sox closer since . . . well, who, the Monster? . . . makes plenty of sense even if you do detect a whiff of panic, for it solves a big problem while creating a much smaller one in the starting rotation. (One I think Tito is convinced Kason Gabbard will eventually fill.) I have to admit, though, I'm a bit disappointed that Papelbon won't be starting. I was giddy over the thought of having a trio of 26-year-old potential aces surrounding Curt Schilling and Tim Wakefield in the rotation, and it seems to me the Sox's greatest advantage over the Yankees coming into the season was starting pitching. I had Papelbon penciled in for 16-18 wins and 200 Ks. I guess 40 saves and a lot less late-inning stress will be an acceptable consolation prize. (And yes, we are pretending that we have no concerns about his shoulder's ability to handle the burden. Let's just move on, okay?)

2. I've caught myself rubbernecking at Schilling's 38-car pileup of a blog (yeah, I know . . . pot, kettle, black) the last few days, and mark my words, he's going to write something that causes a *^&$storm in the clubhouse, and sooner rather than later. Just today, he took an unbecoming shot at Bob Tewksbury, who's about as controversial as vanilla ice cream, revealed that "John" would be closing, and answered a question about a long-ago incident with Scott Williamson that A) made no sense, and B) sure read like a guilty man's revision of history. Yeah, I suppose we should have known he'd be as self-important behind the keyboard as he is in front of a microphone.

3. Let's see, since pissing away the AFC title game, the Patriots have: retained their ballhawking young cornerback whom everyone thought would bolt for the biggest bucks as a free agent; signed the best linebacker available, one who happens to perfectly fit their defensive system; acquired three intriguing wide receivers, each of whom brings a different skill-set to the huddle; signed a blocking tight end and a versatile backup running back; and vastly improved their team without trading either of their first-round picks. So I have to ask: Is it possible to actually surpass a best-case scenario?

4. As far as I can tell, there have been four worthwhile NBA season-inside books through the years. 1) "The Breaks of the Game," David Halberstam (about the the transitional late '70s Blazers, with plenty of Halberstam's patented big-picture wisdom). 2) ":07 Seconds or Less," Jack McCallum (about last year's Suns, a fun read but comes up slightly short in the insight/juicy details department). 3) "Unfinished Business," McCallum (about the 1990-91 Celtics, it's worth it for the comedic stylings of Kevin McHale alone). 4) "The Short Season: A Diary of the 1977-78 Boston Celtics," John Powers (a winning look at a surprisingly terrible team, but one that did not lack for characters). If you've got a fifth to add to this list, well hell, let me know, because I'd love to read it.

5. For the record, I have no problem with the Official Muse Of TATB's increasing aversion to clothing . . . well, other than the fact that the pictures tend to melt me until I'm nothing more than a puddle and a pair of tube socks. But I'm guessing you knew that. In a related note, when the hell is "The Office" coming back with a new episode? It's been so long, if Roy did indeed live up to his vow to kill Jim, ol' Halpert's probably been reincarnated by now. I'm suddenly finding myself spending my Beesly-free Thursdays watching "American Idol" for the first time, and frankly, I'm not all that comfortable with that. But it is addictive, you develop your favorites, and I'm pulling for the beatbox kid, Blake. He nailed that Keane song a few weeks back. And Sanjaya . . . yikes. Step away from the curling iron, son. I think he's the hermaphrodite child Michael Jackson never had. I honestly don't understand why the voters haven't sent this tone-deaf Peter Pan back to Neverland already.


6. Yep, I'm convinced. Daisuke Matsuzaka is going to be worth every digit on his paycheck. As if his ability to throw four above-average pitches at varying speeds to the exact spot Jason Varitek places his mitt isn't enough to convince us he'll be an ace from Day 1, then Varitek's complete inability to mask his admiration (is awe too strong a word?) for Dice-K is evidence enough of his elite talent. I cannot wait.

7. I hope I'm wrong, but I'm assuming that Donny Marshall will not be with Fox Sports New England for long. The former UConn star and NBA vagabond is nothing less than outstanding as Tommy Heinsohn's stand-in and, more often, as a studio analyst on the Celtics broadcasts. Marshall is refreshingly candid in critiquing his former peers, such as when he noted recently that Desmond Mason, a capable enough scorer, actually has a reputation for clogging up his team's offense because he insists on posting up all the time despite being just 6-foot-5. It was exactly the kind of insight I want to hear from a former player. You'd have to think one of the networks at some point is going to catch on to Marshall's talent and swipe him away.

8. Seriously, f you didn't laugh at the whole "Hi, this is Manny Ramirez. Check out this kickin' grill!" episode, then you are taking your time here way too seriously, my friend. (And that goes double for that bloated bag o' gas John Dennis, who actually spent moments of his life trying to find out if Manny was violating any eBay rules, for no other reason than to stir up more faux-controversial nonsense) This whole situation was classic Manny, and I mean that in the good sense. Why not enjoy it? (And I'm still laughing at his response the other day to a question about the closing situation: "Not my department." Again: Classic Manny. I sure am going to miss the goof when he returns to his native planet.)

9. Allen Ray, Brian Scalabrine, and Rajon Rondo combined to play 64 minutes against the Bobcats without scoring a single point. Consider those numbers again: Sixty-four minutes. Zero points. Nah, Doc's not tanking a thing.

10. As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


Because sometimes it really is random.

Analyzing Bill James's Red Sox projections, Part 2

Because Dale and Holley are no doubt desperate for a topic to crib for today's show, we're back with some Sox projections from the Bill James Handbook. Today, the pitchers . . .

STARTING ROTATION
Curt Schilling
12-8 3.50 ERA, 177 Ks in 180 innings
Looks like James expects Schilling's age (and girth) to cause him to visit the disabled list once or twice. Given that Schilling has failed to pitch 180 innings only twice since 1996 - in 2003 (broken hand) and 2005 (bloody sock aftermath), I like the odds that he'll throw 200-plus innings and surpass these numbers.

Daisuke Matsuzaka
27-2, 1.33 ERA, 305 Ks in 256 innings, two no-hitters, Cy Young, MVP, World Series MVP, Academy Award winner
Damn, looks like James believes the hype and then some. I guess Dice-K really is going to make us forget all about Pedr . . . oh, all right, I admit it: I made those numbers up. There's no projection for Dice-K, for obvious reasons, though I do think it's worth noting that in his first season stateside, at age 26, Hideo Nomo went 13-6 with 2.54 ERA, whiffing 236 in 191.3 innings while allowing just 124 hits. If Matsuzaka could pitch as well for the Sox as his countryman did for the Dodgers a dozen years ago, I think we'd all be satisfied.

Josh Beckett
13-10, 3.68, 191 Ks in 208 innings
Let's put it this way: If Beckett pitches 208 innings with a 3.68 ERA, he's winning a hell of a lot more than 13 games.

Jonathan Papelbon
14-6, 2.98 ERA, 181 Ks in 184 innings
It's tough to project stats for a closer who's becoming a starter, mostly because the move is so unusual. (John Smoltz is the only recent example who comes immediately to mind.) Still, the numbers seems to favor Papelbon making the transition successfully, and the 14 wins is a comparitively high projection given that James's scale appears conservative; he has no one in either league winning 20 games. For what it's worth, I would not be shocked if Papelbon ended up being the ace of this staff. Does anyone doubt his stuff or his makeup?

Tim Wakefield
8-8 4.14 ERA, 108 Ks in 152 innings.
Wakefield, who turns 41 on August 2, is regarded as a "high injury risk," thus the 152-inning projection. But I have to wonder if that takes into account that he's a knuckleballer, an often ageless specie. Consider: at 40, Phil Niekro threw 342 innings (and went 21-20); Charlie Hough pitched 252 innings; and Tom Candiotti threw 201 innings. If he can avoid another fluke rib injury, I have doubt that Wakefield will devour 200 innings again.

BULLPEN
Joel Pineiro
7-9, 4.50 ERA in 92 Ks in 144 innings.
This one should be disregarded - the numbers are based on Pineiro starting for Seattle, not relieving for Boston. He has looked like he's throwing the ball with some bite lately, so maybe this low-risk move will have some reward, if not necessarily a high one.

Brendan Donnelly
3.41 ERA, 64 Ks in 66 innings
Mark it down: The cantankerous ex-Angel is your opening day closer . . . though you, me, and Tito are hoping the Sox won't need one at all in Kansas City.

Mike Timlin
3.86 ERA, 46 Ks in 70 innings
The nagging strained oblique muscle isn't exactly an encouraging sign that last year's woes are behind him.

Julian Tavarez
4.56 ERA, 43 Ks in 75 innings
I actually get a kick out of Manny's completely insane personal spokesman, though I'd like him more if he didn't accumulate most of his highlights during garbage time.

J.C. Romero
4.40 ERA, 36 Ks, 24 BBs in 44 innings
Twenty-four walks in 44 innings? Yep, this talented hothead is the leader in the clubhouse for the title of Reliever Who Is Going to Have Me Cursing At The TV While Simultaneously Sucker-Punching The Cat. Should be a good time.

Manny Delcarmen
3.88 ERA, 77 Ks in 78 innings
The K-rate is certainly encouraging, and if the pride of Hyde Park can just harness his high-grade stuff a little more often, he could really become an integral part of the bullpen in the late innings. Yes, I'm glad he (and Craig Hansen) were dealbreakers in the rumored Todd Helton swap. (FYI: There is no projection for Hansen.)

Kyle Snyder
4.84 ERA, 51 Ks in 80 innings, 97 hits allowed
The Sox could do worse for a spot starter/mopup man, though I really don't want to see Bronson Arroyo With A Pituitary Problem pitch 80 innings unless half of them are at Pawtucket.

Closed for the summer

Appropriate ending when you think about it, what with circumstances conspiring to ruin something potentially memorable one last time. I could be talking about the small picture of Game 162 (Mother Nature washing out Devern Hansack's improbable no-hit bid) or the big picture of all 162 games (an ER's worth of ill-timed injuries derailing a bid for a fourth consecutive playoff berth). And of course, both the season and its finale ended sooner than we expected.

So now we must speak of this 86-win, third-place bummer of a season in the past tense. And while we'll save our deeper analysis and crackpot theories about What Went Wrong for another rainy day, let's spend a few words on the remaining players who made this season what it was, for better or worse:

CATCHERS
Jason Varitek.238, 12 HRs, 55 RBIs: Catchers notoriously decline offensively at age 32, and Varitek followed the well-worn pattern this season; he can't hit a good pitching anymore, and ideally, he'd bat eighth or ninth in the lineup at this point. But Lord, how he was missed when he was knocked out for a month by a knee problem. He's still a stalwart defensively, calls a good game and commands respect, and is worth every penny of his contract even when he's flailing at an eye-high fastball.

Doug Mirabelli.193-6-25: He was washed up last year . . . and yet I bet I Doug Mirabelli still thinks the Sox trade of Cla Meredith and Josh Bard for Doug Mirabelli and Doug Mirabelli's massive ego was a fantastic trade for the Red Sox. Yes, Doug Mirabelli brings new meaning to the phrase "tool of ignorance."

DESIGNATED HITTER
David Ortiz .287-54-137: What else can be said? When the games mattered, he made sure DH stood for Designated Hero. And when the season was lost, his successful bid to set the single-season franchise homer mark gave us reason to cheer again. When Papi's around, it's always a blast. Please don't take him for granted, because he's a once-in-a-fan's-lifetime gift.

INFIELDERS
Kevin Youkilis .279-13-72: He was so steady that it was easy to forget that this was really his first full season - and on top of establishing himself as an everyday player, he made the transition from third base to first with remarkable grace. The Eck noted tonight he thought Youks played Gold Glove defense. Given his immensely valuable ability to work the count and wear down pitchers, The Greek . . . er, Jewish God of Walks should be the leadoff hitter next season. Now if he'd just stop bitching after every called strike . . .

Mark Loretta .285-5-59: He's about as exciting as vanilla ice cream, he has the range of your grandmother's walker, and the stragglers from the Jeff Frye Admiration Society tend to exaggerate his contributions . . . yet he had his share of late-inning highlights, he catches everything hit his way and turns two with grace and precision, and he's still a tough out even though he's primarily a singles hitter these days. My verdict: Sign him for one more year, if he's willing, and let Pedroia shorten that swing down in Pawtucket.

Alex Gonzalez.255-9-50: I'm sorry, but he won't win the Gold Glove. Didn't you get the memo from McCarver? This is the year to fete Captain Jetes for all his excellent years in anonymity, and he's going to collect this award (among others) despite the fact that Gonzalez is the best defensive shortstop in the AL since Omar Vizquel had all his hair. It was a treat to watch him and Lowell turn the left side of the infield into Web Gem Central, and despite his particle board bat, I hope he's back in Boston next season if the price is right.

Mike Lowell .284-20-80: The best defensive third baseman the Sox have had since Butch Hobson (oh, c'mon, he was my boyhood hero; cut me some slack, people). Seriously, he was Gold Glove-worthy (as are Beltre, Crede, and Chavez), and while he was streaky, his final numbers at the plate are perfectly acceptable. I have a slight concern that he'll have a hard time repeating this output next season, but if the Sox keep Manny and get a legit No. 5 hitter, he won't be asked to do so much.

Alex Cora .238-1-18: He's bright, versatile, and despite a punchless offensive season, he's exactly what you want in a utility infielder. Keep him, I say.

Dustin Pedroia .191-2-7: Some see him as David Eckstein. Others as a young Jody Reed. So far, all I've seen is Brett Abernathy.

Carlos Pena .273-1-3: The Sox should have brought him in instead of J.T. Snow in the first place.

OUTFIELDERS
Manny Ramirez: .321-35-102: I plan on getting into the Manny Situation more in a future episode, so for now I'll leave it at this: If, during one of his patented midsummer tears next season for the Mets or Angels or whichever team the Sox award him to over the winter, some smug dinkus of a Boston sportscaster has the nerve to say, "Why can't we get players like that?" after spending the better part of six seasons trying to drive Manny away, well, I might just have to drive into Boston just to pull said sportscaster's hair plugs out with my bare hands.

Coco Crisp .264-8-36: So at least we know the truth: He was never healthy. I remember how wowed I was by him in spring training and during his pre-injury debut against the Rangers - he was electric - and despite the belief that he's no leadoff hitter, I hope he gets a second season to show his stuff in Boston. He deserves that much.

Trot Nixon .268-8-52: All right . . . I'll miss him. A little. If only for sentimentality's sake. His tenure with the Sox dates back to my college years, he did bust his ass and try to do the right thing, and as Roger Clemens and Rich Harden can attest, he had his moments in the clutch through the years. And of course, he was One of The 25, delivering the game-breaking hit in the World Series clincher. But the truth is that he's crumbled into an injury prone, underproductive, overpaid over-30 albatross, just the kind of player the Sox should be trying to distance themselves from. Trot was the Mike Greenwell of his era, albeit with an extra branch or two on the family tree, and like Greenie before him, his popularity outweighed his productivity near the end. It's time to tip the dirty hat and say goodbye.

Wily Mo Pena .301-11-42: It pains me to say this, because I was in agreement with the Arroyo deal and enjoyed watching Pena's occasional moonshots, but . . . I hope they trade him in the offseason. I have major doubts that he's ever going to develop the plate discipline and pitch-recognition skills to be a consistent hitter; he often looks as if he's made up his mind to swing before the pitch is delivered. And defensively, he reminds me of Kevin Mitchell circa '96, which means I cover my eyes, hope for the best, and usually witness the worst when the ball is hit his way.

Gabe Kapler .254-2-12: I hope he's still reporting to work at Fenway next season - as Eck's backup analyst on the pre- and post-game shows.

David Murphy .227-1-2: Eh. I can live with him as a fourth outfielder, but I'm skeptical that he'll develop enough power to justify a regular role for a playoff contender.

Eric Hinske .288-1-5: This year's version of Butch Huskey, an alleged slugger picked up late in the season who makes a habit of whiffing in crucial situations. But as a patient switch-hitter who historically mashes righties, he should be a useful stick off the bench next season.

STARTING PITCHERS
Curt Schilling 15-7, 3,97 ERA: He wasn't, as the song goes, as good as he once was, going six weeks without a win and developing a maddening habit of letting small leads slip away in the middle innings. But in the context of his lost 2005 season, 15 wins is a hell of a comeback.

Josh Beckett 16-11, 5.01: Greg Maddux once said the more trouble he is in, the slower he pitches, meaning he uses the hitters' aggressiveness against them. Something tells me Boston's version of Nuke LaLoosh would grunt and call Maddux a *&*%* for believing in that that philosophy. He needs to grow up and learn to pitch rather than throw, or the names Anibal Sanchez and Hanley Ramirez could haunt the Red Sox front office honchos the way Derek Lowe and Varitek did Woody Woodward.

Tim Wakefield 7-11, 4.63: The Sox dearly missed his bullpen-saving ability to eat multiple innings at a 4-something ERA clip, but now that he's 40 and coming off his first injury in years, it's time to start thinking about him as a fifth starter rather than as a third or fourth.

Julian Tavarez 5-4, 4.47: If the Sox were beginning the playoffs this week, he'd likely be your No. 3 starter. Chew on that for a moment.

Matt Clement 5-5, 6.61: I can't help but remember Gammons floating a notion at around this point last season that the Sox and Dodgers should consider a Clement for D-Lowe swap. How I wish they had.

Jon Lester 7-2, 4.76: We're all rooting for a victory more important than any he'll ever achieve on the ballfield. Get well, kid.

Jonathan Papelbon 4-2, 0.92, 35 saves: The Sox's collapse and his season-ending shoulder scare have cost Papelbon some of the plaudits he deserves for his historically dominant rookie season, and that's too bad, because he may have been the team's MVP in the first half. While he was virtually unhittable as a closer, at least until he grew weary late in the season, I'm glad the Sox are moving him to the rotation, if only because I'm a believer that it's wiser to use your best pitcher for 200 innings rather than 60. It will likely keep his arm in better condition, too. Prediction: Papelbon wins 17 games next season and is a better starter than any of the Zitos and Schmidts available as a free agent over the winter.

RELIEF PITCHERS
Keith Foulke 3-1, 4.35: Every season, there are always a few seemingly washed-up relievers who, for a variety of reasons, enjoy a major career rejuvenation. (Think: Wickman, Bob, and Jones, Todd.) I'm betting on Foulke to be one of those guys next season. I want him back.

Mike Timlin 6-6, 4..36: When you're 40 and you've pissed away the second half of the season getting lit up by the likes of Kevin Millar, it's time to start plannin' some possum huntin' expeditions for the summer months, if you get my drift.

Manny Delcarmen 2-0, 5.06: Everyone roots for the local boy to make good, but his command is too inconsistent and his fastball is too straight for Hyde Park's own to be considered anything more than a middle reliever at this point.

Craig Hansen 2-2, 6.63: Questions, I've got some questions: Where's the filthy slider that he supposedly used to torment the Big East? Have the Sox mishandled him to the point he's lost his stuff and his confidence? Is he familiar with the work of Calvin Schiraldi? He should start next season in Pawtucket with no pressure and no expectations, and work from there.

Javier Lopez: 1-0, 2.70: He doesn't throw enough strikes, and a lefty specialist who comes in and walks his lone batter is a useless as a Giambi without a chemistry set.

Kyle Snyder 4-5, 6.56: If only he hadn't sacrificed 7 miles per hour on his fastball to the blade of Dr. Andrews' knife. You can see why he was such a highly regarded prospect with Kansas City - his curveball is a legitimate out pitch, and his tailing changeup gives him decent secondary stuff - but unless he gets better command or regains a few m.p.h on the heater, he's nothing but an Arroyo wannabe.

Devern Hansack 1-1, 2.70: Well, that No-Hitter-With-An-Asterisk was certainly a hell of an audition for some role next season. Not only am I pulling for him, but having watched him pitch the Sea Dogs to the Eastern League title, I can say with a certain degree of confidence that he's got better stuff, command, and composure than quite a few established big league pitchers.

Kason Gabbard 1-3, 3.51: Another slopballing lefty who prays to the altar of Jamie Moyer. And yet . . . Jerry Remy is on record as being impressed with Gabbard, and he did pitch very well more often than not. I'm naturally skeptical of a guy who struggled for almost two full seasons in Double A, but he showed enough to earn a second job interview next spring.

OTHER SUSPECTS RUMORED TO BE PITCHERS
Mike Burns: Man, did the Pats show us something today or what? The whole Shutting Down An Offensive Juggernaut With a Shorthanded Defense was straight out of Belichick's 2003 championship blueprint, Maroney is an absolute beast, and Brady did his part to silence the shrill sky-is-falling nonsense from the Felgers of the world. Suddenly, I'm feeling very good about this team . . . and if you think I'm writing this because I wouldn't know Mike Burns if he ran off with my wife, you'd be correct.

Bryan Corey: He pitched well once earlier this season against the Sox while with Texas. So at least I can say I saw him pitch well once.

Kevin Jarvis: He didn't belong in the major leagues five years ago.

Lenny DiNardo: I'm beginning to think he has a lifetime contract as the 12th man on the staff. He's shown me nothing, and he has a World Series ring and some great tales as Bronson Arroyo's wingman to show for it.

Craig Breslow: He's better than Lopez. Then again, I think Tony Fossas would be an upgrade on both of them.

Take 10

Ten free minutes for me, 10 free half-formed thoughts for you . . .


1. I'm not a skilled enough writer to approach such topics without sounding trite and melodramatic, so I'll keep it brief: David Ortiz is the best thing ever to happen to the Boston Red Sox, and I cannot articulate the sadness I would feel if his heart scare turns out to be something more serious than the exhausting effects of carrying this baseball team all summer. Be well, Papi.

2. Deion Branch needs the Patriots if he's ever going to cash in on the payday he desires. And despite what the Smerlases of the world might tell you, the Patriots need Deion Branch. Which is why they'll get this thing worked out before the season's opening kickoff.

3. You know a player created a lasting legacy when he spends nearly three times as many years with the Jets as he does the Patriots, and New England fans still admire him unconditionally anyway. If this is the end, thanks for those three wonderful seasons, Curtis Martin, and we'll see you in Canton. You left long ago, but you'll always be one of New England's own.

4. Carl Pavano could drive his Porsche off the Brooklyn Bridge, make a public proclamation that Derek Jeter smells way better than Alyssa Milano ever did, and sever his right arm off with a hacksaw just for the sport of it, and I'd still wonder if the Yankees might consider taking Matt Clement for him in straight-up swap of overpaid enigmas.

5. And in a related note, players I hope will turn in their Red Sox gear for good come the conclusion of Game 162: Clement, Mark Loretta, Javy Lopez, Doug Mirabelli, Coco Crisp, Javy Lopez, Mike Lowell, Julian Tavarez, Javy Lopez, Jermaine Van Buren, Gabe Kapler, Javy Lopez, Javy Lopez, Javy Lopez, and Javier Lopez. (Temporarily spared for sentimental reasons: Keith Foulke, Mike Timlin, and Trot Nixon.)

6. Back in his New England days a decade ago, do you think Bill Parcells ever thought there'd come a time when Terry Glenn was the more professional, mature and mentally stable of his starting receivers? She's come a long way, baby.

7. Seems to me there are few things more aggravating to a Boston sports fan than a smug, ill-informed contrarian with a pulpit. (And somewhere, Gary Tanguay is disagreeing with me just for the hell of it.)

8. The Bruins rarely get much more than a passing mention in this space, but between the rave reviews of new boss Peter Chiarelli's roster-building skills and the cool news that longtime Friend of TATB Fluto Shinzawa is now the pointman on the beat for the Globe, I haven't looked this forward to the dropping of the puck since Neely was in his prime.

9. Seems to me the same people who were breathlessly comparing Al Jefferson to Elton Brand just a year ago are now the same fickle folks pushing the Celtics to include him in any reasonable deal for a veteran. Give him time, people - sophomore struggles and aching ankle aside, he's still only 21.

10. As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:


There is absolutely no way the Sox should permit Jonathan Papelbon to pitch for the MLB All-Star team that will tour Japan after the season. I may be mistaken, but the last Sox closer to go on this trip was Tom Gordon in '98. You might recall he tweaked his elbow during the tour, and was a lost cause in '99. The Sox should write Papelbon a check for $100,000 - the coin he'd make for participating, and admittedly, the reason he wants to go - and tell him to get some R-and-R. After this grind of a rookie season - it must be grueling, being a one-man bullpen - it's the best thing for him and the ball club.

The Sox may be dead, but TATB is live, baby . . .

Probably should have dropped a mention of this earlier, but your lazy but loyal blogger here is writing about tonight's Sox-Yanks epic as it happens, given an occasional assist from the DVR.

I tried this once last year, during a late-season Sox-Jays game, and not only did I have a blast and get a lot of positive feedback, but if I recall, the Sox pulled off one of their defining victories of the season. (Pretty sure that Ortiz cat was prominently involved.)

So with the kids snoozing, the chance to chronicle the dumb crap Joe Morgan says in a given three hours too tempting to resist, and a change in mojo absolutely necessary for the Sox, here goes . . . well, something. I'll update the post every inning or two, so be sure to check in periodically . . . you know, if by dumb luck you actually stumble upon this as I'm doing it. Man, I really do need a better PR department.

YANKEES FIRST
* Johnny Damon (not sure if we should refer to him as Traitor, Sox Killer, or simply $*&$&#&@&&#$&&face at this point) starts the festivities by grounding out to first, the first time in the series he hasn't led off with a hit. He also shattered his bat. Please be symbolism. Please.

* Schilling goes 0-2 on Jeter, who smells like apricots with a just hint of lime tonight. The Captain works the count to 3-2 before he's called out on strike three. Predictably, he breaks into his Do-You-Know-Who-I-Am-How-Dare-You-Call-That-A-Strike routine, ducking his head, lingering in the batter's box to offer a few suggestions to the ump, then smirking, shaking his head, and looking out at the pitcher as he walks away. Same act, every time.

* K-Zone shows the pitch to Jeter was a perfect strike on the inside corner. K-Zone, of course, does not measure intangibles.

* Schilling is dealing - 96 and 97 mph on the corners - but the Yankees are making him work. (Damon fouled off a pitch that was damn near in Mirabelli's mitt.) After whiffing Bobby Abreu on five pitches, Schilling is on pace for 198-pitch perfect game. Take that, Bill James. Seriously, where else do you get this stuff?

RED SOX FIRST
* Both children, apparently made aware that daddy is both awake and motivated for once, have decided to start howling in unison, so here's the abbreviated version: Coco makes his obligatory leadoff out (he'll make a great Pittsburgh Pirate one day); Loretta singles hard to center; Papi singles hard to center; Manny (who is hitting over .500 with 7 homers against New York this season), rockets a liner to the wall, scoring Loretta; Youkilis singles, scoring Papi; Lowell hits into his obligatory double play. (And I'm pretty sure his left foot fell off running to first base. Danged rigamortis.)

* "This is what the Red Sox needed, to get off to a good start." You know, normally I'd mock this as stating the obvious, but for Joe Morgan, it's actually pretty astute.

Morgan, three seconds later: "It was important in my opinion to get off to a good start." Okay, Joe, we get it.

Morgan, roughly 10 more seconds later: "You had to get off to a good start here if you're the Red Sox." He's officially beaten this horse into Alpo. Bottom of the first, and I'm already longing for Remy.

* Did I mention I have company tonight. Yup, Mrs. TATB is in the house, and she was kind enough to offer this pearl as her first question of the night: "If I was on the Red Sox, would I be the worst player?" Instinctively, made some wise-ass comment about most big-leaguers having played ball beyond the North Berwick, Maine girls' Little League, but given more thought, there's a pretty good chance she's a better defensive catcher than Javy Lopez. Red Sox 2, Yankees 0

YANKEES SECOND
* The perpetually sweating Jason Giambi doubles to left center, and as he lumbers his way to second, I'm reminded of the title of one a Seth Mnookin blog post a few days ago: Jason Giambi Is A Gutless, Steroid-Using Punk. I liked that title. The oft-updated site ain't bad either.

* Morgan, in attempting to praise Melky Cabrera, a completely worthwhile pursuit: "The Yankees [before Abreu] were getting a lot of production from Cabrera, from Bubba Crosby . . . they did get a lot out of Bubba, and they owe him a debt, because he did do a lot to help them stay afloat early." Bubba Crosby, 2006: .207, 1 HR, 6 RBI, .258 OBA, designated for assignment Aug. 15. I'm not suggesting he doesn't do his homework, but I suspect Joe wouldn't know Bubba Crosby from David Crosby.

* The basket case known as A-Rod, sweet-swinging Robinson Cano, and Jorge Posada leave Giambi and his chemistry set stranded at second, but Schilling's pitch count is piling up.

RED SOX SECOND
* Mike Mussina is pitching for the Yankees. Probably should mention that at some point. Not much good usually happens for the Sox when Moose is involved. He mows through Wily Mo Pena, Mirabelli, and Alex Cora in order. (Regarding Mirabelli, that trade keeps getting worse and worse - as you probably read in the papers this morning, Cla Meredith has emerged as a bullpen force for the Padres, having allowed something like 1 run over his last 17 innings. This trade pisses me off so much, I won't even mind when Lobel catches on to this and asks his patented, "What would we do with guys like that?")

* Tarp's on the field. Rain delay. Bonnie Bernstein gives the weather report from the Sox dugout as Papi and Youkilis ham it up in the background. Glad to see they're loose. The Red Sox, I mean. You guys are sick.

* This sucks for the Sox - not only do they have the early lead, but the more this drags on, the less likely it is that Schilling returns to the mound. Fortunately, staff meteorologist John Kruk is live from the ESPN studios to tell us, in between bites of a Nutty Bar, that Schilling will definitely stay in the game no matter how long the delay. Thanks for the wisdom, Krukie. Got any Star Crunches left?

YANKEES THIRD
* Fifty-seven minutes later, ESPN returns from a commercial to find Schilling delivering a live pitch to Cabrera. Guess the rain delay is over. The Worldwide Leader, my foot. Anyway, Schilling looks no worse for the delay, breezing through 1-2-3.

RED SOX THIRD
* Bonnie chimes in on Mussina's 1-hitter against the Sox back in the Despicable Summer of 2001. Ugh - thanks for the reminder. I've never been more disgusted with the Sox than I was late that season, and that night in particular. No matter how bad this season gets, it won't get that bad. Carl Everett, of course, broke up the perfecto with two outs in the ninth, then acted like himself (insert your own vulgarity) by pumping his fist and acting like he did something noble. I'm glad to see that after Seattle released him a few weeks back, he was left unclaimed. It's about time that jerk's career went the way of the dinosaur.

* Jon Miller still calls a better game than most broadcasters, but he's lost his best fastball. All these years of listening to Morgan remind us that he played for the Reds and misidentifying "cutters" must have broken his spirit. There was a time when Miller was as good as it got, Vin Scully being the lone possible exception. And if you remember the hilarious Strat-O-Matic games that occasionally filled radio time on the Sox broadcasts during the '81 strike, you know exactly what I mean.

YANKEES FOURTH
* Jeter singles, then Abreu hits a rocket off the wall, but Manny plays the carom flawlessly and holds him to a single. "Manny is very adept at playing the wall," Miller informs us, and I catch myself thinking none of the Fox broadcasters would praise this play or even realize that it is indeed the truth. Morgan resists the urge to mention that George Foster played left field for the 1975 Cincinnati Reds.

* The walking science project . . .



. . . crushes a three-run bomb to right, his 35th of the season. In fairness, the pitch was such a meatball that Jeremy Giambi probably could have hit it. Fortunately, no further damage in the inning, though Schilling has thrown 76 pitches already. Given the flammable state of the Sox 'pen, I imagine he told Tito his max pitch count is somewhere around 250.

RED SOX FOURTH
* Manny leads off with a sharp single, which means he's now 8 for 11 in this series and 25 for 45 (.556) against the Pinstripes this season. I'm reluctant to jab those who take glee in criticizing his big-moment performance, but dammit, don't the numbers speak for themselves?

* Mussina against Wily Mo. From a baseball standpoint, it's a classic brains-against-brawn matchup. Brains wins this round, though Brawn did work the count full and got a pretty decent pitch to it before popping up to right. All in all, a good at bat for Wily Mo. Small progress.

* Mirabelli flares one to right, scoring Youkilis (single) and tying it at 3-3. Chicken parms all around. Red Sox 3, Yankees 3

YANKEES FIFTH
* Francona, during the in-dugout interview between innings, after Miller asked him if Jonathan Papelbon would be available for two innings tonight: "Two? I was thinking about four." I almost hope he's not kidding. By the way, have I mentioned that I think he's the best manager the Sox have had in my lifetime? I blame him for none of this.

* Schilling cruises . . . and better yet, Morgan and Miller are speculating that Mussina might be done after the camera catches him seeking out the trainer in the dugout. A break at last?

RED SOX FIFTH
* Sweet. Mussina is out, Ron Villone is in . . . but wouldn't you know it, the one time those dugout interviews actually might be useful, the audio kicks out during Joe Torre's explanation of what happened. (Something about a tight groin . . . he might have been talking about Jeter and A-Rod's personal chemistry, though Mike Lupica suggests they aren't exactly pals.) Morgan, being an intrepid, Emmy Award-winning journalist and all, shrewdly skips the opportunity to ask a follow-up question on what may be THE crucial development in this game, and instead asks him some ridiculous question about Abreu. M-O-R-O-N.

* Papi. Red Sox lead, 4-3.

* Seriously, do I really need to say anything else at this point? Hell, if you didn't see the home run, you already have the image of it burned into your mind's eye - the quick and mighty rip, the knowing bat flip, the majestic trajectory - having witnessed it all so many times before. And it NEVER gets old. Red Sox 4, Yankees 3

YANKEES SIXTH
* Abreu, whom I'm really wishing had remained somewhere far away from this rivalry, singles to right. After Giambi, who's sweating so profusely that I can smell him through the TV, strikes out, Abreu rolls over to third on a wild pickoff throw. But Schilling dodges the bullet - A-Rod swallows his tongue before coming through with the requisite infield popup, and Cano pokes a flare over second that Alex Cora hustles to track down. Somewhere, RemDawg takes a drag and yells to the gimp in the basement, "Alex Cora, he does something to help the Sox win every time he's in the game." The gimp squeals in muffled agreement.

* Jeter gets a whiff of Giambi and, being a great captain and all, offers him a sample of "Driven." Giambi says thanks, rubs some on his leg and injects the rest into his left buttock.

RED SOX SIXTH
* Good lord, Morgan is actually lecturing us that we can't blame the Sox's problems on the Curse anymore. If you think I'm going to spend a single moment of my existence transcribing a blithering idiot's take on a television-driven myth, you've come to the wrong corner of the internet, folks.

* The wet look is definitely working for Bonnie Bernstein. Did I mention my wife went to bed about two hours ago? Hey, at least I'm still wearing pants. Anyway, Sox leave a couple, and we move to the. . .

YANKEES SEVENTH
. . . where Schilling has an easy inning precisely when he needs one, getting two fly balls (including one by the always scary Jorge Posada), then getting a called strike three on Nick Green on his 109th pitch of the evening. When ESPN comes back from commercial, Schilling is wearing his warmup jacket and shaking hands in the dugout - sure looks like his night's work is over. If anyone other than Papelbon comes out for the eighth, Francona should be tarred, feathered, fed to locusts, and dangled from the Monster seats on the spot, my earlier praise be damned.

RED SOX SEVENTH
* Mike Myers in for the Yankees. You already know I believe the Sox should have re-signed the slinging lefty, who did his job well for the Sox. I consider his inexplicable departure one more small mark against Theo, post-World Series.

* Someone is warming up in the Sox 'pen. It's . . . (sniff, sniff . . . do I smell gasoline?) . . . (oh . . . oh, no . . . oh, the humanity!!) . . . Timlin. Good lord . . . NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! (Someone heat up the tar and collect the feathers, I'll put the locusts on alert . . .)

* With runners on first and second and two outs, Scott Proctor comes in for the Yankees. He's the frontrunner for Joe Torre's annual Setup Man I'll Burn To A Blackened Crisp By September award, given the last two years to Tom Gordon and Tanyon Sturtze. (Sturtze, by the way, was Giambi's best pal on the Yankees. Not suggesting anything, of course, particularly in regards to the 5 mph he added to his fastball in his early 30s or the bizarre shoulder injury . . . nope, nothing to see here . . .)

* Suddenly, a chance to break it open. Loretta singles, one out later Manny is intentionally walked, and Youkilis gets the fifth run home with a single. But after a Cano error leaves loads the bases with one out, Wily Mo whiffs (yup, slider down and away) and Mirabelli flies out to Abreu. These are opportunities a struggling team lets slip away.

* "In my day we didn't have bases, we had rocks." That makes me laugh. Damn, it's getting late.

YANKEES EIGHTH
* With Damon, Jeter and Abreu coming up, who's on for the Sox . . . yup, Timlin. WHAT. THE. *$&#*?

* SERIOUSLY, TITO . . . WHAT THE #*#*? WHERE THE #$&% IS PAPELBON??!!!

* Damon gets an infield single when Loretta shows his Stonehenge range, and Jeter, diving over the plate as usual, gets drilled on the hand. First and second, no one out, and The Other Javier Lopez is coming in to face Abreu. I just punted the cat.

* Lopez gets Abreu 1-2, then walks him. Didn't see that coming. Did I mention that Lopez has walked 6 in 8 2/3 innings this season and just got recalled to the Sox today? Yup, he's just the guy I want in this game.

* Hey, look . . . coming out of the bullpen . . . it's Jonathan Papelbon!!! And he's pitching for the Red Sox!!! Dude, I didn't even know he was still on the team!!!

* (Deep breaths . . . deep breaths) . . . Giambi just crushed a majestic bomb that deflected off the moon, and somehow landed in Gabe Kapler's glove on the right field warning track for a sac fly. (Whew.) That looked very gone off the bat, and it capped a classic power-vs.-power at-bat in which Papelbon touched 98 on the gun and Giambi expertly worked the count in his favor and got his share of healthy hacks. Compelling baseball, that.

* A-Rod walks. God, you've gotta make him swing there, especially with Cano coming up. And if that last sentence isn't an indictment of his status as the reigning MVP, well, nothing is.

* Cano whiffs on a split, the location of which Morgan predicted. I have to admit, Morgan is making a little bit of sense tonight. Then again, I haven't eaten in five hours and the other cat is starting to look like a rotisserie chicken, so I may be slightly delirious.

* Posada whiffs on a nasty splitter, and Papelbon escapes the bases-loaded, no-out jam by allowing a single run. Somewhere, Dick Radatz is smiling. (Of course, Radatz might also say Papelbon is a **#** pansy for pitching just two innings, but that's how it goes.) Red Sox 5, Yankees 4

YANKEES NINTH
* Is it overstatement to say the fate of the Sox season depends on what takes place in this half-inning? Probably . . . but at the moment, it sure sounds like the truth to me.

* Cabrera, fast becoming a chronic pain in the ass, leads off with a double to right center, and alertly moves to third when Mirabelli fumbles a splitter. It's hustle like that that earns you coveted postgame fist-pumps from the Captain.

* Bernie Williams, a longtime chronic pain in the ass, whiffs on the next pitch. A good omen? Maybe, but I tend not to believe in such things with Damon and Jeter lurking in the on-deck circle.

* And as I write the words, "Traitor Johnny whiffs," wouldn't you know it, Jeter punches a patented bleepin' bloop single five feet in front of Kapler in right to tie it. When he's in the Hall of Fame someday, it had better say "uncanny knack for dinky clutch hits" somewhere on his plaque. I believe the word here is "demoralizing" . . . but Papelbon needs to suck it up right now, forget that his manager completely botched the eighth inning, and give Papi (and Manny, in the unlikelihood that Papi doesn't smoke a walkoff of Rivera) a chance in the ninth.

* He does, whiffing Abreu. Considering he gave up the tying run, though, maybe the cocky fist-pump coming off the mound wasn't quite so necessary. Red Sox 5, Yankees 5

RED SOX NINTH
* Rivera in. Papi up. This is one hell of a game, eh?

* . . . yup, and it just got a little bit better. Papi hits a one-hopper at Giambi, who thoughtfully plays it into a double. (He's got the range and hands of the Venus de Milo.) As Papi plods toward second just ahead of Bernie Williams's water balloon of a throw, for a brief moment it seems time has slowed down.

* Torre didn't achieve this lot in life by being a dummy. He walks Manny. I'm sure Michael Kay is blathering about this being a genius move.

* Youkilis bunts into a fielder's choice at third (hey, you try bunting Rivera's cutter), but Posada obliges the Fenway faithful with a passed ball, moving the runners to second and third after all.

* Pena gets four freebies, loading them for pinch-hitter Eric Hinske. A new Fenway hero in the making? Nope, no chance. Strike, ball, strike, strike, sit. And on the next pitch, Mirabelli predictably leaves 'em loaded, chopping feebly back to Rivera. There will be no chicken parm on this evening after all.

YANKEES 10th
* Hansen in. HGHiambi homers. Gee, didn't see that coming. This one's on you, Tito. The goddamn loyalty to Timlin is the same flaw that convinced you it was a good idea to keep running the likes of Millar and Embree out there last year. If EVER there was a game to use Papelbon for two, this was it - hell, you said so yourself during the game. You're a fine manager, but you had a horrible night exactly when your team could least afford it.

* Cano doubles and Posada hooks a liner around Pesky's Pole (is it me, or has that thing been much more friendly to visitors than the home team this season?) and it's 8-5. To his credit, Hansen looks awfully pissed for someone who grew up in New York. Yankees 8, Red Sox 5

RED SOX 10th
* So, hey, how'd Brady look last night? And Maroney? How about Dillon? Think they're deep enough at linebacker? Whaddaya say, 12-4? 13-3? Man, can't wait for football . . .

* And there it is . . . Papi flies out to right to end it. Remember that symbolism we were looking for way back in the first inning? Looks like we found it here. Not even the man who has rescued them so many times can save this defeated team now.

* * *
(Postscript: Just caught Tito's postgame press conference. Wow, is he a beaten man. He explained all too reasonably that he went to Timlin and Lopez in the eighth because Damon/Jeter/Abreu were "something like a combined 4 for 49 against them." Which is all well and good, except it forgets one crucial factor. The Mike Timlin pitching for the Red Sox right now is a far cry from the steady setup man of the past three seasons. He's 40 years old, might be hurt, is additionally weary because of the WBC, and cannot get the outs now he got in past seasons. This is one instance where past performance MUST be disregarded, because this simply is not the same guy. Tito should have known better.)