AP Photo

AP Photo

I was trying to find the best words to approximate my feelings toward last night’s Red Sox game. But I think Jon Lester’s expression sums it up better than I could:

After seeing the Sox pound out 15 hits and make an actual attempt at an actual comeback, only to see it all fall short in the very last at bat, I wanted to punch a wall. Then I figured, “what’s the point?” It only pisses off the wall and God knows my hand doesn’t need any additions to the pre-2004 damage done to it. So in the interest of personal health and sanity, as I walked to the bar in a post-game haze, I came to the conclusion that as the Sox continue to hurdle down this baffling trajectory, I’m just gonna buckle in for the ride and try my best to enjoy it.

Hardly a shocker, I know. But for me, there’s no use in hating on them. Hell, I may even be physically incapable of it. I’m not an apologist by any means; this team couldn’t suck worse if it had rubber lips. But in the wake of the miracle that was 2013, I just don’t have any poison arrows left. In fact, as I tweeted last night, if the Gods of Baseball came to me last June and said, “You’re gonna win the World Series this year, but next year will suck some serious ass,” I’d have been fine with it.

It’s an awkward place, this post-2004 mindset. I grew up figuring a championship would never happen in my lifetime. Now I wonder when the next one’s coming. We’ve gone through the looking glass and if I have to endure a couple dog years thrown into the mix, it’s all good. If anything, 2013 has better equipped me to withstand it.

They lost ten in row, then won seven in row, then lost five in a row. They may lose another five straight. They may win their next sixteen. They are infuriatingly unpredictable and inconsistent. They are ten games out of first, yet, in the wilds of the AL, they could very well make the playoffs, where anything can happen.

They seem to be a nip and a tuck from getting back on track or plummeting into oblivion. Maybe the return of Napoli will snap them back to life. Maybe Grady Sizemore will continue to flail with runners in scoring position. Maybe Victorino will bring some spark back. Maybe David Ortiz has no more miracles up his beefy sleeves. Maybe this is all prelude to an unprecedented August drive to the top of the East. Or, maybe it’s just not in the cards for us this season.

Either way, I’m all in. I just don’t know any other way.