Ladies and gents, I have a confession. Yesterday afternoon, for the first time in a long time, I took the name of Manny in vain.
It’s something I don’t like doing, peeps, but after seeing Manny get thrown out of the game for arguing strikes in the second inning, then watching his teammates squander opportunity upon opportunity to get that elusive timely hit, I figured we’re going down, Sugar, and it’s all because Our Man Ramirez is too proud to assume that any pitcher could plate something that he didn’t deem worthy of knocking over the Mass Pike.
But then it all came together. Almost comical, really, how it all fell into place in the eighth inning. With two outs and down three runs, we got four straight hits, three straight walks and four big runs to take the lead. And while the rest of us went apeshit in the stands and in our living rooms, Manny was doling out the love behind the scenes:
“Manny gave me a big hug when I got in here, but he hugs me everyday so I don’t know what that means,” Pedroia said with a smile in the clubhouse.
Perhaps the biggest thing that upset me about Manny’s ejection, quite selfishly I admit, is that we lost a few of the guy’s Fenway at-bats, and I desperately wanted to see him swat his 500th home run at home, and during this homestand in particular. Yes, I know that’ll requir a pace of one home run per game over the next four games, but this is Manny we’re talking about. If the guy wants to flap his arms and fly to the moon, are you gonna tell me he can’t do it?
See you at 11:05 for Clash of the Titans II: Buchholz versus Gabbard!
