Yesterday morning, in offices all across New England, belts and ties were being confiscated and all letter openers, scissors and hole-punchers were securely locked away. Because the end was here and nobody likes having a corpse in the next cube over. On August 10th, the Yankees had won the American League East. Somehow, April through July were dismissed as not counting, and all that mattered was dropping four to the Yankees. Six-and-a-half back and tied for the Wild Card. Season over. Commercial-radio WEEI was barraged with callers ready to storm the gates of Fenway looking for Theo and Tito’s heads.
Forgotten was the fact that the Sox have six games left with the Yankees and still lead the season series 8-4. Lost in the pain of being swept were three outstanding starts from Beckett, Buchholz and Lester. Overlooked in a 30-inning stretch of goose-eggs on the scoreboard were signs of a hot streak from Jacoby Ellsbury.
How quickly things change, eh?
A six run, twelve hit attack on All-Star Edwin Jackson and company combined with a Yankee loss and suddenly there are signs of life. Everyone in the line-up with the exception of Victor Martinez had at least one hit. Bay, Pedroia, and my man Nick Green all went deep. And Ellsbury had a couple of hits and a steal (bringing him within one of SB leader Carl Crawford).
Did the weekend suck? Mightily.
Was it really an indication of how good or how bad either of the teams are? I think not.
Lots of baseball left, folks. And it sure is good to be home.
