Folks I was in what scientists would call a REAL BAD MOTHERF$%KING MOOD after yesterday’s loss to the Astros. So bad I kinda disconnected and retreated to my aunt’s garden shed with a sack of double chocolates from Cookie Monstah.
When I resurfaced, three steps closer to that diabetic coma I’ve been pacing myself toward, I realized that the Astros didn’t beat the Red Sox Saturday afternoon. The Red Sox beat the Red Sox.
The Sox spent the better part of the day doing what they’ve done all season: failing to get any kind of hit with runners in scoring position and squeezing the life out of their own opportunities. Every time they had Brett Oberholtzer, winner of the 2014 Best Name to Say While Drinking Award, on the ropes, they let him off easy. The most painful example came in the top of the fifth, when the Red Sox loaded the bases with one out, only to have Ortiz — who has been feast or famine this season — ground into an inning-ending double play. A close second was the top of the seventh, when the Sox, down by a run, got men on third and first with nobody out, only to end the inning with just one run scored — and on a sac fly at that.
They saved the best for last, though, when Farrell brought Peavy, who had been exceptional all afternoon, back out to start the eighth. Peavs promptly surrendered a double, and a few batters later, that runner crossed the plate with the winning run. That’s Grady Little territory right there. I’m sure Peavs begged to go out, and with trade rumors swirling, Farrell may have wanted to indulge him one last time. But it turned out to be the game.
In short, after three days in fantasy land, it was a resounding thud back to earth for the 2014 Red Sox. A reminder that this is a team that struggles to score runs, even against the shittiest of pitchers and teams. And that weakness will almost surely cost them a trip to the playoffs this season.
