The best thing about being a Red Sox fan? It’s not the Green Monster or Nomar or the Yaz Robot that scientists are supposedly constructing in a basement miles beneath Fenway Park. It’s the way that one day the world can be crashing all around us under the weight of bad vibes, and the very next day — a mere twenty four hours later — it’s all sunshine and The Partridge Family and sweet, fresh flowers.
That’s the way I’m feeling this morning, after watching a game in which everything clicked for the Sox. Pokey got some key hits. Millar’s bat seemed fully alive again. Timlin again showed that he’s Timlin and should be treated as such. And Manny — who’d have thought he’d be the single most lovable dude in major league baseball in 2004? — swatted one to the Park Lunch in Newburyport.
Now we’ve got Pedro going tonight in a rare Saturday night game at Fenway, which, I gotta admit, are my favorites. And remember the last time Petey faced the Jays on a Saturday night at home?
The magic starts at 7:00pm. See you there.
