Public Service Announcement:   Ok, here we go!  I'm sad to say this will my last post on Fox Sports.  I just have too much on my plate right now to continue here.  I want to take this time to say, I've loved every minute and I will miss you all.  Thanks for the memories!

Public Spectacle: 

Peace out homies.  Six two and even!

No time for losers ’cause we are the champions, of the world!  -Queen

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Oh baby don’t it feel like heaven right now?  Don’t it feel like something from a dream?  Ya, I’ve been waiting for this.  Anticipating for this.  Waiting for this ever since I heard the Big Ticket scream, “Anything’s Pooooosssssssible!” 

Well, the waiting’s over.  The new NBA season is upon us.  Fantastic!  The Celtics begin their quest for the repeat.  The Celtics set out to do what no Boston Celtics team has done without Bill Russell.  Something Larry Bird has never done.  Something Dave Cowens has never done.  Back to back baby!  Back to back.

You can tell me that the loss of James Posey means the loss of another title.  And as much as I love the man, I will respond, “Are you out of your cotton pickin’ minds?”   Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce and Ray Allen are still here.  Rajon Rondo gets better every single day.  Tom Thibodeau is still orchestrating the best defense this NBA has ever seen.  Here’s what Bill Russell had to say on the matter, “I have the first championship team photo from 1957 and the last one from ‘69.  I am the only guy in both pictures.”  Put that in your cigar and smoke it.

It all starts tonight.  The Celtics get their rings tonight.  The Celtics raise their banner tonight.  When they run out of that tunnel onto the Garden floor, they will be announced to the crowd as the World Champeen Boston Celtics.  When Kendrick Perkins tips off tonight against Zydrunas Ilgauskas, all of that doesn’t matter.  All that matters is another championship.  Boston Celtics basketball.  Come and get some!

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Big time.  I’m on my way, I’m making it.  Big time, big time.  I’ve got to make it show yeah.  -Peter Gabriel

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  I don’t really need to write anything here.  By this time, you’ve seen Ryan Howard reestablish dominance with two jacks on Sports Center.  You’ve read countless blogs recounting Joe Blanton’s home run that made him the first player in major-league history whose first extra-base hit, whether in a regular-season or a postseason game, was a World Series home run.  You witnessed live uber-rookie Evan Longoria’s futility as he joined Flea Clifton of the 1935 Tigers as just the second rookie to go hitless in his first sixteen at-bats of a World Series.  What’s left to say?

The Fightin’ Phils have a 3-1 lead in a World Series they can put away tonight at the ballfield where they’ve been unbeaten this entire postseason.  The can finally rain out this Ray Pride Parade.  Cole Hamels, who has won all four and been untouchable in his postseason starts, will toe the rubber again tonight at Citizens Bank Park.  Cole Hamels gets the title shot outdoors at the ballpark and what do the Rays get?  A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville!  It was a nice run, but like anything else, all good things must come to an end.  This one ends tonight.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Rear up you Colts and let’s fight.  Crash through and show them your might!  - Jo Lombardi & Benjamin Klasmer

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Whats crack-a-lacking sports fans?  It’s gut check time.  Make or break or time.  Do or die time.  Win or go home!  We’re in hell right now, gentlemen. Believe me.  And, we can stay here, get the #### kicked out of us, or we can fight our way back into the light.  We can climb outta hell…one inch at a time.  Hoorah!

Like it or not, that’s what Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts have to do.  They have to climb outta hell…one inch at a time.  It all starts tonight.  It all starts in the Music City.  It all starts against the Tennessee Titans.  The undefeated Tennessee Titans.  Is it Monday yet?

You may say it’s early.  You may say there’s plenty of football left to be played.  You may say I’m a dreamer.  But I’m not the only one.  Know this sports fans.  Know that when the Colts lost last week, they fell to three games back in the division.  Fell to three games back in the division for the first time in the seven years there’s been a division.  Losing again, tonight, to this Titans team, could very well mean the end of the line.  No team in the history of the NFL has ever come back to win a division title after being down four games at any point during the season.  No team.  Not ever.

It will not be easy.  Not a task for the faint of heart.  Like my main man Ronald Reagan always says, “The future doesn’t belong to the faint-hearted; it belongs to the brave.”  It will take bravery to face this Titans defense.  You’ve heard of the Steel Curtain?  This is the Titanium Curtain.  It’s the new style.  Four and three and two and one, when I’m on the mic, the suckers run.   Suckers have been running all season.  Running from Albert Haynesworth.  Running from Keith Bulluck.  Running from Courtland Finnegan.  Running, but not getting very far.  The Titanium Curtain has not allowed more than seventeen points in any game this season.  Big deal you say?  Who cares you say?  I say nobody has started a season at 6-0 while holding their opponant to seventeen points or fewer since 1981.  Since the Philadelphia Eagles.  Since Charlie Johnson.  Since Jerry Robinson.  Since Roynell Young.  Since guys like that there.  I say the Colts have their work cut out for them.

Peyton Manning is playing behind a makeshift line on a makeshift knee and he is struggling like he has never struggled before.  He just hasn’t had the time or the mobility to connect on those deeper routes that have been so successful in the past.  For the Colts to have any shot, any shot at all, the offensive line must protect the six foot five, 230-pound quarterback with the laser rocket arm.  Jaws:  ”If a defense gives Manning time to throw, he’s going to win.  It doesn’t matter how good the defense is.”  Manning has been an MVP, a Pro Bowl MVP and a Super Bowl MVP.  Tonight, he has to play like one again.  His season depends on it.

Public Acknowledgements:  Any Given Sunday, John Lennon, Beastie Boys and USA Today

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

Oh baby, give me one more chance.  To show you that I love you.  Won’t you please let me back in your heart.  -Jackson 5

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Oh, how the mighty have fallen.  I remember when this cat was the second coming.   I remember when this cat was the second coming of a Legend, right down to the cheesy moustache.  I remember when this cat was a chief, was a king, but above everything, he was the most tip top, Top Cat!   

It all started one night in Maui against Michigan State and continued on until Dr. Dirt’s Gonzaga team suffered a stunning, last second defeat to UCLA and he began weeping like a school girl.  That frown got turned upside-down.  Got turned upside-down when the Bobcats selected him with the third overall pick in the 2006 NBA Draft.  Third, behind Andrea Bargnani and LaMarcus Aldridge.  Third, ahead of Brandon Roy.  Ahead of Rudy ####.  Ahead of Randy Foye.  Ahead of Rajon Rondo.   The first player picked by “Manager of Basketball Operations” Michael Jordan in his tenure with the Bobcats.  It all went down hill from there.

In his first year, he was selected to the NBA Rookie All-Star team.  In his first year, he was selected to NBA All-Rookie Second Team.  In his first year, he was none-the-less considered inconsistent and a disappointment.  That’s what happens when you’re the third overall pick.  That’s what happens when you’re hailed as the next Larry Bird.  That’s what happens when the fate of a franchise is resting on your young shoulders.

At the time, Morrison was a no brainer pick for His Airness.  Besides his God-given talent, Morrison showed true grit.  Fill your hands you sonofa####!  His competitiveness was unrivaled.  Old school right down to his socks.  Unfortunately, he never lived up to that hype in Charlotte.  It seemed he never saw a shot he didn’t like.  It seemed he never played a lick of defense.  And last year, he never even played a game.

Now that he’s back, what does the future hold for young Adam?  Will he go the way of his first benefactor and fellow third pick Michael Jordan?  Or will he end up like another number three, Dennis Hopson, and finish out his career with Maccabi Qiryat Motzkin of the Israeli Basketball League?  Chances are, somewhere in between.  Word has it that the ‘Cats only picked up Adam’s option to facilitate a trade.  Word has it Larry Brown is none to enamored with Adam’s game.  But, save the ponytail, I’ve liked what I’ve seen so far.  I like that he’s making quick cuts to the rim.  I like that he’s knocking down the J.  I like that he’s picking up the pieces less than one year removed from the injury.  Of all Charlotte players with meaningful minutes in the preseason, Morrison led the ‘Cats in FG%.  55% from beyond the arc.  Not too shabby.  I guess I’m just not ready to give up on this guy.  Not yet.  Not me.   Not after what I saw him do in Maui and beyond three years ago.  It’s gonna take a lot more than more than one stinking knee injury to change my mind. 

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Simple and plain, give me the lane.  I’ll throw it down your throat like Barkley.  See the car keys, you’ll never get these.  They belong to the Greg Oden posse.  -Public Enemy 

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  I love this guy.  Just love him.  It may be a little premature, but I don’t care.  I’m on the bandwagon, and I ain’t getting off. 

Greg Oden is a very special kid and, and I have high hopes for him.  I’m going to my media assassin, Harry Allen, I gotta ask him.  Yo Harry, you’re a writer, is he that type?  You best believe the hype!  Striking fear into the hearts of men.  This kid blocks.  Bill Russell blocks.  Blocks that his own team can take control of.  That’s smart, very smart.  A veritable Einstein.  The one eyed wonder, Dickie V thinks so too.  Dickie V thinks Oden is super, scintillating, sensational baby!  He says this diaper dandy was the best big man in college basketball in the last thirty years.  I tend to agree.    

You know the Gigantic-O was the first overall pick in the June 2007 draft.   You know he missed all of last season after undergoing microfracture surgery on his right knee.  You also know he’s back.  Back on track.  Back on track as the only Blazer to appear in all six of Portland’s exhibition games.  That’s good news.  Very good news.  Oden began his pro career by dunking two minutes into Portland’s 110-81 exhibition win over the Sacramento Kings.  He ended his exhibition season with a double-double as the Blazers beat the Los Angeles Clippers Wednesday night.  I say the Gigantic-O gets Rookie of the Year.  I say the Gigantic-O wins NBA Championship after NBA championship.  I say,  saddle your ponies you bet!

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  I like Slam dunks take me to the hoop.  My favorite play is the alley oop.  I like the pick-and-roll, I like the give-and-go.  Cause it’s basketball, uh, Mister Kurtis Blow.  -Kurtis Blow

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  NBA action.  NBA satisfaction.  NBA coming attractions.  It’s finally here.  Fantastic!  Yes fans, the NBA season is upon us.  Like my main man the Big Fundamental always says:  “Good, better, best.  Never let it rest.  Until your good is better and your better is best.”  Who’s good?  Who’s better?  Who’s best?  Answers to those questions and many more coming up in this edition of the NBA Awards Show. 

The Jimmy Two Times Award:  And then there was Jimmy Two Times, who got that nickname because he said everything twice, like:  I’m gonna go get the papers, get the papers.  The Boston Celtics.  Repeat baby, repeat.  No Boston Celtics team has repeated without Bill Russell.  Not the teams of Larry Bird.  Not the teams of Dave Cowens.  Not the teams with John Havlicek.  Not nobody.  But the team with Tom Thibodeau will.  Defense wins championships.  It did last year.  The Celtics defense was not only the best defense in the league, it was one of the best defenses ever.  The Celtics were first in almost every major, minor and everything in between defensive category.  I do not expect that to change.  I do expect them to win it all.  Again.

The Carl Spackler Prize:  Cinderella story.  Outta nowhere. A former greenskeeper, now, about to become the Masters champion.  It looks like a mirac…It’s in the hole!  It’s in the hole!  It’s in the hole!  This year’s Carl Spackler trophy goes to the Philadelphia 76ers.  Nothing since 1983.  Not even a whiff.  One man can change all that.  Elton Brand can change all that.  Brand is the centerpiece of Philadelphia’s off-season retooling.  His blockbuster $80-million free-agent contract leaves little doubt he’s the new face of the franchise.  His great classic power forward post moves leave little doubt he will take Philly to the next level.

Butch Van Breda Koff Cup:  Butch lasted sixteen days as Suns head coach in 1972.  Seven games in all.  George Karl may last a little longer than that.  A little longer.  This Nuggets team is not as good as the previous not so good Nuggets teams Karl has had the privilege of coaching.  And now, gone is Marcus Camby, and with him, the Nuggets most accomplished and committed defensive player.  Giving up too many points is reason numero uno NBA coaches get fired these days.  When AI, Melo and JR can’t hoist up as many as the other guys, it’s bye-bye George, by George.

The Jesus Christ Grail:  Redeemer.  Savior.  Deliverer.   Struck me kinda funny.  Seems kinda funny sir to me.  At the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe.  Greg Oden.  It’s been a long time coming but Oden finally gives the good people of Portland a reason to believe.  How good is he?  Really good.  Phenomenal.  Extraordinary.  Fantastic.  Yes, I’m high on this this kid.  But barring another injury, he should take Rookie of the Year.  He’s a great athlete.  He runs the court with ease and has excellent leaping ability.  He gets great position in the post and most importantly gets his body wide to give guards a good target to pass into.  He will be all the Blazers asked for and more.

Eng and Chang Trophy:  Eng and Chang, the most famous conjoined twins of all time. Chris Bosh and Jermaine O’Neal.  I’m stuck on Band-Aid, ’cause Band-Aid’s stuck on me! Think Tim Duncan and David Robinson.  The last couple of years, Bosh has been playing out of his natural position at power forward, and adding a player like O’Neal will vault the Raptors into being a legitimate contender in the Beastern Conference.  A somebody.  Instead of a bum, which is what they have been.

Gene Autry Crown:  I’m back in the saddle again.  Out where a friend is a friend.  Where the longhorn cattle feed on the lowly gypsum weed.  Back in the saddle again.  The San Antonio Spurs.  The other Big Three.  The only other Big Three with a championship pedigree.  Once Manu Ginobili gets himself back into the lineup the San Antonio Spurs are one scary ballclub.  One very scary ballclub.  If Manu was healthy last year, it would have been them, not the Lakers, in the NBA Finals.  This year, I expect just that.

Twinkle Toes Flintstone Ribbon:  No not Mark Cuban.  Twinkle Toes was a bowler.  Chris Paul.  He says his bowling scores average between 180 and 190, but he has a high game of 256.  He hosts a charity bowling tournament each September in his hometown of Winston-Salem, N.C.  One of the league’s top young players, Paul was recently named a spokesman for the U.S. Bowling Congress.  Chris Barnes, watch your back.  Yabba dabba doo!

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and even!

I’m wonderin’, should I begin to kick ya mind or your chin ’cause I’m the King.  -Slick Rick

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Everybody’s talking about the Rays.  Everybody’s squawking about the Rays.  That’s all well.  That’s all good.  Just not tonight.  Kid, this just ain’t your night.  Tonight, Cole Hamels gets the title shot outdoors at the ballpark and what do the Rays get?  A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville!

You can Flyin’ Hawaiian me.  You can Matt Stairs me.  Heck, you can even Brad Lidge me.  But dig it, without Cole Hamels, these Fightin’ Phils are nowheresville, man.  With his NLCS clinching win against Dem Bums, Hamels became the 31st major-league pitcher to win each of his first three starts in one postseason, dating back to Christy Mathewson in 1905 and Deacon Phillippe in the first World Series in 1903.  But, besides Hamels, who is twenty-four, only one of those pitchers won his first three starts in a postseason before the age of 25.  That was Livan Hernandez with the Marlins in 1997, when he was listed at 22 years of age.

Hamels may be the youngest player on a roster filled with MVPs and more experienced stars, but make no mistakes, he is the most important player on this roster.  He takes the ball again tonight, just like he has done thirty-six times before without a miss since this season began more than six months ago.  Heavy boots of lead.  Fills his victims full of dread.  Running as fast as they can.  Iron man lives again!

Any time you see Cole strutting out to the mound to the musical stylings of AC/DC you can expect a win.  You can expect a shutout.  I’m not even sure a no-no would be out of the question.  He’s been that good.   3-0 in the postseason good.  1.23 ERA good.  MVP of the National League Championship Series good. 

Hamels throws three pitches.  Here comes like dum ditty dum, he keeps all five boroughs in stitches.  He throws a fastball, curve and a Pedro Martinez change and has excellent command of them all.  In any start he is capable of a shutout with ten plus strikeouts.  But most importantly, the man is poised.  The man can handle big games and pressure situations. The man is a fierce competitor who attacks the strike zone with all his pitches.  Attacks it I say.  Don’t believe me?  Just ask the Dodgers.  Hamels closed them out on the road with one of the most tenacious outings I have ever seen.  And you know what that all spells, don’t you?  Sure you do.  That spells bad news for the Rays.

Public Acknowledgements:  On The Waterfront, Black Sabbath and Charlie Manuel

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

I hid in the clouded wrath of the crowd but when they said sit down, I stood up. Ooh-ooh growin’ up.  -Bruce Springsteen

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!   Hockey Krishnas rejoice!  Move over Evgeni.  Move over Sidney Lady Bing  Crosby.  Move over El Ocho Ovechkin.  Move over cool dogs, a hot dog’s movin’ in.  

His name is Phil the Thrill Kessel.  The Boston Bruin’s own Phil Kessel.  The pride of Madison, Wisconsin Phil Kessel.  A natural born scorer.  Mickey Knox style.  He’s a Harlem Globe Trotter on ice.  Electric?  Try high voltage. Boogie oogie oogie.  He has explosive speed.  TNT.  Dynomite.  This kid can skate.  This kid can make plays.  This kid can score.  He can pass. He can see the ice.  Think pocket Kovalchuk.  And, he’s only twenty-one years old.  Phil Kessel is finally turning into the player the Big Bad Bruins hoped he’d be.

Last night, in a 2-1 shootout loss to the Pittsburgh Penguins, Kessel was both the Bruins’ only goal scorer in regulation as well as in the shootout.  Last night, Kessel scored his fifth goal of the season.  Big deal you say?  Who cares you say?  I say, Kessel and Marc Savard both have five goals in the team’s five games this season.  I say no other Bruins duo has done that since  Espo and Hodgy back in 1973-74.  I say that’s pretty pretty good.

This is what the Bruins were expecting when they drafted him with the number five overall pick in the 2006 draft.  This is what the Bruins were expecting after they watched him at the 2005 World Junior Championships.  Took every possible honor at the 2005 World Junior Championships.  Top scorer by a landslide.  Top forward.  Tournament MVP. This is what the Bruins were expecting after watching him at the University of Minnesota.  Inside College Hockey 2005-06 Rookie of the Year.  WCHA All-Rookie Team.  WCHA Rookie of the Year. Led WCHA in freshman scoring, assists and points.  Ranked 11th in the nation among all players in points.   We’re finally starting to see Phil play up to those expectations.

Last season in the playoffs, coach Claude Julien benched Kessel after Game One against the top-seeded Montreal Canadiens.  Said he was too soft.  But after being reinserted into the lineup in Game Five, he was the most dominant player on the ice.  The most dominant player on the ice.  Bar none. He was pretty dominant last night.  Last night, there was Kessel at the top of the circle.   Pass from Ferrence.  He shoots!  He scores!  He scores on a blistering wrist shot that Pittsburgh goaltender Danny Sabourin never saw coming.  Look out Crosby, here comes Kessel.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Don’t you forget about me.  I’ll be alone, dancing, you know it baby.  Going to take you apart.  I’ll put us back together at heart, baby.  -Simple Minds

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Now that’s what I’m talking about.  Now that’s what we in the business like to call a good ole fashioned beat down.  Punks jump up to get beat down!  The Broncos jumped up.  The Patriots beat them down.  Beat them like a red headed stepchild.  Beat them like a drum.  Beat the Broncos down like they were beating everybody down last season.  These are the good old days.

It was deja vu all over again. It was Brady to Moss all over again.  Matt Cassel threw three touchdown passes.  Two of them to Randy Moss.  Haters keep hating.  We’re coming!  That doubled Moss’ total for the season.  Get the papers, get the papers.  The Patriots scored in droves.  A slew of points.  A gaggle of points.  More points than you can shake a stick at.  The Patriots scored fourteen points in both the second and third quarters.  Big deal you say?  Who cares you say?  I say they had not scored more than ten points in any quarter this season.  Not one.  Last year they scored more than ten points in a quarter twenty-one times during the regular season.  Twenty-one!  Yowza!

The Patriots were better than the Broncos in every facet of the game.  Every facet.  They owned the line of scrimmage.  Behind Sam Bam Morris, they rumbled, stumbled, and bumbled their way to their best rushing game in fifteen years.  Matt Cassel put up a pristine 136.3 passer rating.  The special teams were extra special. The Patriots were knocking players out of the game left and right.  So say what you want about this Bradyless Bunch.  I say they’re going to the playoffs.

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

Foot on the pedal, never ever false metal.  Engine running hotter than a boiling kettle.  -Beastie Boys

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  You can call him Bro Sweets.  You can call him Choo-Choo.  You can call him Dolemite Jenkins.  You can call him whatever you like.  But know this sports fans, you better be calling him the best running back in the National Football League.  Because, that’s what he is.

Yesterday at FedEx Field, Clinton Portis gained 175 yards rushing.  Yesterday at FedEx field, Clinton Portis almost single handedly gave the Washington Redskins a 14-11 win over the Cleveland Browns.  Fumble be damned.  It was the fourth consecutive game in which Southeast Jerome rushed for at least 120 yards.  It was the second time in his career that Sheriff Gonnagetcha recorded a four-game streak of that kind.  Big deal you say?  Who cares you say?  I say, there were only two other players with two streaks of four or more games of 120 yards rushing in their careers.  I say there was Jim Brown.  I say there was O.J. Simpson.  I say that’s pretty gosh darned good if I do gosh darn say so my own gosh darn self.

Portis is bringing back memories of John Riggins this season.  The 6-2, 230-pound Riggins was not a spectacular running back.  Not a flashy running back.  He was a lunch pail running back.  A classic workhorse ball carrier.  A Clydesdale.  Here comes the king, here comes the big number one.  One of the toughest summama####es to ever put on cleats.  That my friends is what this Clinton Portis has become.  The later it gets, the more Portis carries the Redskins.  The more he smashes teams in the mouth.  The more he proves he’s the best RB in the NFL.

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

And now it’s time to say goodbye.  Just walk away, try not to cry.  We’ll love again before too long.  After the love, after the love has gone.  -Roy Orbison

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  This story was not to be.  This time there was no rainbow after the flood.  There was no pillar of salt.  No burning bush.  No joy in Mudville.  Not for the Red Sox.  This time, there was no Johnny Damon grand salami.  No galloping Coco Crisp, crashing into the bullpen fence, holding the American League pennant in his hand.  Not this time.  This time there was only the Tampa Bay Rays.

Late Saturday night, standing in front of his locker,  Evan Longoria said, “Heroes are made in Game Seven.”  Last night, that hero was born.  After Dustin Pedroia’s shot over the left-field wall and a Big Papi walk, Matt Garza got to work.  In the biggest stage of his life, Matt Garza had the biggest games of his life and got to work by retiring fifteen of the next sixteen Red Sox batters.  That was all she wrote. You know what I mean.  He’s gone, and we couldn’t do nothing about it.

When all was said and done, Matt Garza threw seven-plus innings of two-hit baseball with nine strikeouts and three walks.  When all was said and done, Matt Garza was hoisting his ALCS MVP trophy high over his head in front of a capacity crowd at Tropicana Field.  When all was said done, it was the new Davids vanquishing the old Davids with a fresh lineup full of new heroes.

There was the Woonsocket Rocket.  There was Rocco Baldelli.  Baldelli, ailing with his mitochondrial disorder made an early running catch down the right-field foul line, then drove in the go-ahead run in the fifth. 

There was David Price.  Price, who has neither won nor saved a regular-season game in his brief career, saved the Rays’ 3-1 win in Game Seven of this here ALCS after winning Game Two.  David Price joined Adam Wainwright and Rawly Eastwick as the only rookies to post a win and notch a save in the same postseason series.

There were the Rays young bats.  Fifteen bombs were already an LCS record for one club.  But that wasn’t enough.  Don’t stop ’till you get enough.  Willy Aybar didn’t stop.  He added to that.  Added insult to injury.  He added to that by pouncing on a high fastball, smashing it to left for his second homer of the ALCS.  Northeasern’s own Carlos Pena hit three jacks during the ALCS only to be outdone by two rookies.  Wunderkinds BJ Upton and Evan Longoria tied for the home run lead in this series with four dings apiece.  Upton drove in eleven runs, tying David Ortiz’s 2004 mark for the most in an LCS.

So, just as the Red Sox were the running gag in times like this for oh too long, the Rays rose from the ashes to shed that label and are now headed to their first World Series. There may be no miracles left for Boston, but Tampa might just yet have some more water to change into wine.  Elvis Costello may know that walking on the water won’t make him a miracle man, but don’t tell that to the Rays.

Public Acknowledgements:  Dan Shaughnessy, Goodfellas, Michael Jackson and Jim Hickey

Peace out Red Sox.  Six two and even!

Here you come again, just when I’m about to make it work without you.  You waltz right in the door.  Just like you done before.  And wrap my heart ’round your little finger.  -Dolly Parton

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans?  How about that?  How ’bout them juggernaut Boston Red Sox?  Them sluggernaut Boston Red Sox.  Them punch you in the muggernaut Boston Red Sox.  Jason Varitek will punch you in the mug.  Punched A-Broad in the mug oh so many years ago to get this whole party started right.  Got this party started quickly.  Punched the Tampa Bay Rays in the mug last night to keep this party going.  We don’t need no water let the #### burn.  Move over Jim Harbaugh, there’s a new sheriff in town and his name ain’t Reggie Hammond.

You saw the Captain last night.  Captain Courageous.  Captain Fantastic.  Captain Marvel.  Shazam!  You saw the Captain take Big Game James deep for the winner winner chicken dinner.  You saw the Captain snap an 0-for-14 streak in this here ALCS.  Snappped an 0-for-14 streak to not only put the Sox into yet another Game Seven, but to also put himself into the record books.  That solo jack gives Tek eleven bombs in the postseason.  Big deal you say?  Who cares you say?  I say, that sets the all-time postseason record for catchers.  That puts Tek ahead of Johnny Bench.  Puts Tek ahead of Javy Lopez.  Puts him ahead of everybody.  Yowza!

We’ve come to expect big things from Varitek.  Of his previous ten bombs during the postseason, three were game-tying shots.  Seven came in the sixth inning or later.  Only two came in blowouts.  Varitek was the epitome of what these new look Red Sox have come to be about.  Big time at bats in big time situations.  Never say die.  We shall fight on the beaches.  We shall fight on the landing grounds.  We shall fight in the fields and in the streets.  We shall fight in the hills.  We shall never surrender!  However, Varitek had only gone yard once since the 2004 ALCS.  He was due.  He did not disappoint.  He made sure his first hit of the series counted for something.  He made sure the Red Sox would not go gently into that good night.  He made sure there would still be some baseball left to play.  So, take your shoes off.  Put your feet up.  And be a Sox watcher.  Tonight!  Win or go home!  Roll Sox, roll!

Public Acknowledgements:  48 Hours, CC & the Music Factory, Rock Master Scott & the Dynamic Three, Rudyard Kipling, Elton John, Billy Batson, Winston Churchill and Dylan Thomas

Peace out Homies.  Six Two and Even

You must not surrender!  We must never surrender!  Keep hope alive.  Keep hope alive! Keep hope alive!  On tomorrow night and beyond, keep hope alive!  -Jesse Jackson

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Wooo doggie!  What a game, what a game.  Like my main man Moonlight Graham always says, “This is my most special place in all the world, Ray.  Once a place touches you like this, the wind never blows so cold again. You feel for it, like it was your child.”  That’s how I’m feeling right now.  That’s how I was feeling back in 2004 when Joe Buck said, “Ortiz fights it off, center field!  Damon running to the plate… and he can keep on running to New York.  Game 6 tomorrow night.”  That’s how I was feeling last year when your Curly Headed Girlfriend wrote, “Football, basketball, and hockey will have to wait.  Cancel that weekend foliage tour of North Conway and don’t lower the storm windows just yet.”  And what a feeling it is.

It’s hope.  Hope is the feeling we get when what is wanted can be had, or that events will turn out for the best.  Events turned out for the best last night.  Last night, the never say die Boston Red Sox overcame a 7-0 deficit in the seventh inning.  Last night, the punch you in your eye Red Sox beat Tampa Bay in Game 5 of the American League Championship Series.  Last night, the when pigs fly Boston Red Sox became the first MLB team in history to win a postseason game in which it faced elimination and trailed by a margin of six runs or more.   Hoorah!  That’s hope. 

David Ortiz is hope.  Papi Grande.  Senor Octubre has been the poster child for hope in so many of these fall contests.  Down.  The paint is peelin’.  Now.  When the chips are down.  Down.  You gotta lose all feelin’.  Now.  Your head goes round n’ round.  Senor Octubre crushed a Grant Balfour offering deep into the right field bleachers for a three-run yoke.  And from there on in, you knew how this story would end.  It would end like the Red Sox have been routinely ending do or die situations in recent postseasons.  It ended in do.

The upstart Rays blew their chances to take their first trip to the World Series in franchise history.  The upstart Rays added to the mystique of a ballclub whose mystique just keeps on growing and growing and growing.  The upstart Rays just gave the Boston Red Sox hope.  And you know what the man says.  The man says, “Once you choose hope, anything’s possible.”  You better listen what the man says.  Roll Sox, roll!

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and even!

It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right.  I hope you had the time of your life.  -Green Day

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  I’ve been an ardent supporter of Manny.  I truly have.  I’ve said he’s the best right handed hitter I’ve ever seen.  The best right handed there’s ever been.  Bigger than Yitzhak Rabin.  But, like my main man Popeye, I’ve had all I can stands and I can’t stands no more.

Manny Ramirez could have gone down as the most important player in Red Sox history.  The most important player in Red Sox history.  More important than the Splendid Splinter.  More important than Yaz.  More important than anybody.   A World Series MVP will do that.  Two rings will do that.  Two rings in four years with a team that has won bupkus for eighty-six years prior, will do that.  Three or four rings?  Fuhgettaboutit!  But instead, Manny bailed on his team.  Bailed, just when they needed him most.  He complained of a Sonny Liston knee injury and pulled himself out of games.  He shoved aged Red Sox traveling secretary Jack McCormick to the ground.  He lollygagged the ball around the outfield.  He lollygagged his way down to first.  He lollygagged in and out of the dugout.  He lollygagged his way right out of Boston and I’m just sick about it. 

Now, I ain’t giving up quite yet, but after watching Tuesday night’s shellacking at the hands of the Tampa Bay Rays I’ve come to my wit’s end.  My wit’s end!  Manny Ramirez’s fifth-inning single Monday, gave him seven hits in eight at-bats with runners in scoring position this postseason.  Only two other players in history have had seven hits over eight postseason at-bats with runners in scoring position.  Meanwhile, the Red Sox are 6-for-34 in those situations against the Rays.  It’s a travesty.  It’s a travesty of a mockery of a sham of a mockery of a travesty of two mockeries of a sham. 

Manny went 2-for-3 with a walk in Game Five.  He concluded the postseason with a .520 batting average, a .667 on-base percentage, and a slugging average of 1.080. He had 13 hits in 25 at-bats with two doubles, four homers and 11 walks.  Big deal you say?  Who cares you say?  I say, each and every one of those averages is the highest by a player in a single postseason.  Yowza!  Think the Sox could use that bat?  You betcha!  But noooo.  Manny had his mind on his money and his money on his mind.  Are we surprised?  After all, he did leave Cleveland’s love for the love of Boston’s money.  It’s just deja vu all over again.

So has been his prowess this post season.  Manny’s .520 batting average is the highest for any of the 1,118 major leaguers who had as many as 25 at-bats in one postseason. He beat Billy Hatcher’s old record by one point.  Ramirez’s 1.080 slugging average is the highest among the same group of 25-at-bat players, surpassing Carlos Beltran.   Manny’s .667 on-base percentage is the highest among any of the 1,352 players who had at least 25 plate appearances in a single postseason, surpassing the Big Hurt.  That’s what makes this all so frustrating.  I love Jason Bay as much as the next guy, but, Senator, you’re no Manny Ramirez.  Don’t believe me?  Just ask Big Papi.  Senor Octubre is mired in the slump of all slumps without Manny’s big bopper of a bat proticting him in the line-up.

I understand I am still bitter by the way things went down.  I understand baseball is a business.  I just wish things went down differently.  I just wish Manny were still around to keep the Red Sox in the business of winning. 

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!