What are these dopes cheering about? Down goes Crawford! Down goes Longoria! Well, it was a nice little run while it lasted. A cute little run while it lasted. It’s over now. All over now. He gets it out deep and Havlicek steals it! Over to Sam Jones! Havlicek stole the ball! It’s all over…It’s all over! Johnny Havlicek stole the ball. Just like the Yankees playoff run is over. Ha ha ha! Roll Sox, roll!
A fortune in fabulous prizes may go to these people today if they know when The Price is Right. -Rod Roddy
Public service Announcement: Ok, here we go. The Ray Pride Parade marches on. I love a parade. The tramping of feet. I love every beat, I hear of a drum. I love David Price. I loved him at Vandy. Dynamite! When Vandy starts to fight. Fight! Fight! Fight! He’s athletic. He’s big. He’s strong. He has a big strong heater. A big strong ninety-eight mile per hour heater that can’t be beater. Tough as concreter. He has a big strong slider. A big strong eighty-eight miles per hour slider that’ll take you for a rider. Bonafider. Vernon here’s got a job. Vernon’s got prospects. He’s bona fide. What are you? I’ll tell you what. David Price got prospects. David Price is bona fide.
When’s he coming up? When’s he coming up? That’s what everybody wants to know. He is coming up, right? I mean, he ’s gotta come up, right. I mean, he is 10-0 down on the farm, right? 1.97 ERA down on the farm, right? 0.99 WHIP down on the farm, right? Eighty-five Ks in eighty-six innings, right? Eighty-five Ks in eighty-six innings with only nineteen walks. Gadzooks! He’ll be up tomorrow, right? Andale! Andale! Arriba! Arriba! Yee-hah! Not so fast there Speedy Gonzales.
The Rays didn’t get to where they are by making rash decisions. They’ve plotted and planned. Planned and plotted. Spent the last decade trolling through the dregs of baseball patiently waiting for this day to come. Rays Executive Vice President of Baseball Operations, Andrew Friedman: “We want to call Price up when we feel like, developmentally speaking, he’s at the point where that next challenge is the right thing to do for him, and not just filling a need for the team.”
The Rays staff is stockedpiled with young, talented pitchers. Stockpiled with Scott Kazmir. Stockpiled with James Shields. Stockpiled with Matt Garza and Andy Sonnanstine. So what’s you hurry? Slow down. You’re moving too fast. You gotta make the morning last. Clearly David Price has the stuff. The HR Pufnstuff. Who’s your friend when things get rough? H.R. Pufnstuf. Can’t do a little ’cause he can’t do enough. He’ll get his chance. If the Rays are still in this thing come crunch time. Come Hawaiian Punch time. If they’re still in this then, then Price will most probably be featured as the Rays’ set-up man as they make their playoff push. And that ain’t so bad, right? So do like Marcellus Wallace says to do: “Go back in there, chill them #### out and wait for the Wolf who should be coming directly.”
Public Acknowledgements: O Brother Where Art Thou, Warner Brothers, Simon & Garfunkel, Sid & Marty Krofft and Pulp Fiction
Johnny come lately, the new kid in town. Everybody loves you, so don’t let them down. -Eagles
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! He’s gone, and we couldn’t do nothing about it. That’s that. There was nothing we could do about it. Real ########Manny’s a Dodger. Couldn’t they have gone into a room? Hashed this thing out. Hashed this thing out like men? Shake hands? Smoke cigars afterwards? Everybody’s happy? Nope. Not gonna do it. Not at this juncture. Yes, Manny’s a Dodger. Iknow it’s true, oh so true, ’cause I saw it on TV. I saw Linda Cohen on TV. Saw Linda Cohen on the News. ESPN News. Linda Cohen said, “It has now happened. Manny Ramirez. The deal is done.” Oh the humanity!
If you know me at all, you know I love Manny. You know what I think of him. I think he’s meant more to the Red Sox than anyone. Anyone. Past or present. Anyone. The Red Sox will sorely miss this cat. They will miss his 312 batting average. They will miss his 274 bombs. His 868 RBIs. And the two World Series titles he done brung ‘em. Know this sports fans, only six players in Major League history can match Manny’s Red Sox numbers in the Triple Crown categories while also winning at least two rings during their tenure with one club. Only six. Only Babe, the Iron Horse, Joltin’ Joe, Jimmie “the Beast” Foxx, Hank Greenberg and Stan the Man. That’s it. That’s the list. Pretty good company if you ask me. Hall of Fame company if you ask me. Immortal company if you ask me.
Yes folks, the Red Sox will sorely miss this cat, and so will I. Like I missed Freddy Lynn. Like I missed Pudge. Petey. Nomah. The Hit Dog. Like those guys there. Only more so. Those guys there don’t got no rings on their fingers. Those guys don’t got no bells on their toes. Petey does. One. But still. He’s close. He’s not Manny. And now, Manny’s gone. I’ll say one thing. I’ll say, if anybody besides Tito can manage Manny, it’s Joe Torre. But Joe Torre or no Joe Torre, Manny will continue to rake. He will continue to rake because he’s still the best right-handed hitter we’ve ever seen. The best there’s ever been. A big bad baseball machine.
The Red Sox had, had, a window of opportunity. You shouldn’t grab me, Johnny. My mother grabbed me once…Once! Had a window of opportunity to grab a couple of rings here. Pick a pocket or two boys here. Not now. They ain’t pretty no more. Not now. I don’t care what you think about Manny’s antics. The Red Sox just went down a peg. Down a peg closer to the masses. Closer to the Rays. Closer to the Bombers. Closer to the teams they need to beat. Closer to what we used to be. Lovable losers. No matter how you slice it. No matter how you dice it. Julienne it. The Red Sox yesterday, with Manny, nonsense and all, were better than they are today without him. Just win baby! When you win, nothing hurts. Like my main John Madden always says, “The only yardstick for success our society has is being a champion. No one remembers anything else.” They’ll remember Manny.
This is where we get to see how good Theo and company really are. We get to see if the system truly is greater than the player. Bill Belichick baseball. But even Bill Belichick sometimes goes with a Corey Dillon. Even Bill Belichick sometimes goes with a Randy Moss. Because sometimes, talent makes up for the other stuff. Hall of fame talent makes up for a lot. Championship talent makes up for a lot. It don’t mean a thing if you don’t get them rings. Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.
Now, here’s the rub. The hard part. The Longest Yard part. I’m still a proud member of Red Sox Nation. I pledge allegiance. I’m a company man. I meant what I said, and I said what I meant. An elephant’s faithful one hundred percent. All that. If tonight, Jason Bay is roaming left field in Fenway Park against the Oakland Athletics, Jason Bay will be my favorite left fielder in the game of baseball. Period. No questions asked. He’s gone, and we couldn’t do nothing about it. That’s that. There was nothing we could do about it. That’s just the way it goes. And so it goes and so it goes and so it goes. But where it’s goin’, no one knows. Roll Sox, roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Goodfellas, Dana Carvey, John Fogerty, Herbert Morrison, Gypsy Rose, Oliver, Johnny Dangerously, Raging Bull, Veg-O-Matic, Al Davis, Joe Namath, Vince Lombardi, Horton and Nick Lowe
The Red Sox have won two rings in the last four years. Two rings thanks in large part to Mr. Manny Ramirez. Maybe people have gotten complacent. Maybe people are resting on their laurels. Maybe people have forgotten. Forgotten how miserable those 1918 chants actually were. How they made us feel. Made us feel a lot more miserable than Manny’s current rumblings, I can tell you that.
Maybe they forgot. Forgot Manny won MVP of the World Series. The first World Series Championship in eighty-six years. Maybe they forgot last year his walk-off three-run bomb run in Game Two of the ALDS against the California Angels. Maybe they forgot he leads everybody all-time in postseason home runs. Manny has incredible numbers. Ridiculous numbers. Hall of Fame numbers. As the kids like to say these days, he sure can rake. All this guy does is rake. Sox winning, Manny rakes. Sox losing, Manny rakes. Big games, Manny rakes. Small games, Manny rakes. Business bad? #### you, pay me. Oh, you had a fire? #### you, pay me. Place got hit by lightning, huh? #### you, pay me. That’s Manny. I haven’t forgotten. An elephant never forgets. I meant what I said, and I said what I meant. An elephant’s faithful one hundred percent.
Some look at Manny’s antics and flippantly remark, “Manny thinks he’s bigger that the game.” Know this sports fans, Manny is the hardest working man in show business. He’s the first one in the weight room. He’s the first one at the ballpark. He’s endlessly watching film. He works tirelessly at his craft. Manny talking about the off-season: “I know this might sound funny, but I play baseball. Me and Varitek play in the training field. Can’t get our minds off of it.” So pack up your criticisms. Pack up your lollygag the ball around the outfield. Pack up your lollygag your way down to first. Just pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile, smile, smile. Smile at the best right handed hitter you ever did see. The most important Red Sox of all time.
Public Acknowledgements: Goodfellas, Dr. Seuss, Bull Durham and George Asaf
Ain’t that a shame? My tears fell like rain. Ain’t that a shame? You’re the one to blame. -Fats Domino
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Another year, another snub. Women may like that! Yes! I understand women. The snub may be good for them. They may love the snub! Not me. You think that I’m fresh off the boat, and you can kick me! But I’m too big for that now. I’m sick a’ takin’ the scrap from you…And I’m sicka the high hat! I know. The Baseball Hall of Fame. Cooperstown. Hallowed grounds. Preserving history, honoring excellence, connecting generations. All that. You wanna preserve history? Huh? Do ya? You wanna honor excellence? Really? Then give Jim Ed Rice his due. Do wa ditty, ditty dum ditty do.
I do this every year, so I’ll make this brief. Jim Rice belongs in the Hall. Anything else is a travesty. It’s a travesty of a mockery of a sham of a mockery of a travesty of two mockeries of a sham. In Jim Ed’s day, as a successor to Ted Williams and Yaz roaming left field for the Boston Red Sox, he was the AL’s most feared slugger. The most feared slugger. Bar none! A mainstay in the clean-up spot at the All Star game. In 1978, he was the best hitter in baseball. The best hitter in baseball. Nobody was better. Not Dave Parker. Not Reggie Jackson. Not George Foster. Not nobody. Enough is enough. Here are some stats:
In 1977, he led the league with thirty-nine bombs. He also had 206 hits. The first of three consecutive years with at least thirty-five homers and 200 hits. Three consecutive years with at least thirty-five homers and 200 hits. Are you kidding me? He was the first player ever to have accomplished that feat. Ever!
He also led the league in total bases for three straight years, becoming only the third A.L. player - after Ty Cobb and Ted Williams - to do so. You got the Georgia Peach. You got the Splendid Splinter. You got Jim Ed. That’s it.
Jim Ed won the MVP award in 1978. In 1978, he accumulated an astounding 406 total bases. 406! The only guy ever in the American League to do so since 1938. The last guy to do it before Rice? Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio. No one in the AL has done it since Rice. No one. Not even the juicers. Simply unbelievable. EMF style.
Of the seventeen players with 300 homers and a career average as high as Rice’s .298, Rice is the only one not in Cooperstown.
He is one of only two American League players ever to lead his league in both triples and bombs in the same season.
He remains the only player ever to lead his league, and Major League Baseball in triples, bombs and RBIs in the same season.
From 1975 to 1986, Rice led the American League in total games played, at-bats, runs scored, hits, homers, RBIs, slugging percentage, total bases, extra-base hits, go-ahead RBIs, multi-hit games, and outfield assists.
Jim Rice was so strong that his ordinary grounders would be into the outfield before the infielders could react to them. So strong he would break bats on check swings. Some kids #### their name in the snow. Jim Ed Rice can #### his name into concrete.
Free Jim Rice!
Public Acknowledgements: Seinfeld, Miller’s Crossing, Manfred Mann and Bananas
When the cat took your tongue, I say you took it right back. Your mouth is so big, one bite would kill a Big Mac. -Run DMC
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go. I said it before, I’ll say it again. No one likes a big mouth. I liked Manny better when he wasn’t talking to the press. A lot better. Manny just may be the most important player in Red Sox history. 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. But this current escapade, or series of escapades is undoing all of that. Peeing in the Green Monster was funny. Listening to his IPod in the outfield was funny. The home run poses are funny. This stuff ain’t funny. It’s disturbing. And if it’s disturbing me, a blatant Manny supporter, I can only imagine how the rest of Red Sox Nation feels. Hello, this is Chuck to remind Bill to SHUT UP! Shut up! Be like Crash Davis. “I’m just happy to be here and hope I can help the ballclub…I just wanna give it my best shot and, Good Lord willing, things’ll work out.” You’re probably right. When it comes to making a deal, the Sox are probably not going to pull the trigger. The Sox do know what they got here. The Red Sox got one of the best right-handed hitters in the bigs. The Red Sox got a player who was instrumental in helping them win two World Series in the last four seasons. I do not want to see Manny in a Mets uniform. I do not want to see Manny is Dodgers or Phillies uniform. I do not even want to see Manny in an Iraqi uniform. Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse. Last night, Manny Ramirez hit home run number twenty. Manny Ramirez has now reached the 20-homer mark in eight straight seasons for Boston. Only one other player in team history had eight consecutive seasons with at least 20 home runs: Dwight Evans. I never got used to Dewey in an Orioles uniform. And Dewey never won a World Series. So Manny, think of what you're saying. You can get it wrong and still you think that it's all right. Think of what I'm saying. We can work it out and get it straight; I don't want to say good night.
Public Acknowledgements: Night Shift, The New York Times, Bull Durham and Dr. Seuss and The Beatles
The chief part of the stories, however, turned upon the favorite spectre of Sleepy Hollow, the Headless Horseman, who had been heard several times of late, patrolling the country; and, it was said, tethered his horse nightly among the graves in the churchyard. Washington Irving
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! I can’t help it. The All-Star Game makes me think of him. How can you not think of Teddy Ballgame being wheeled through the 1999 All-Star Game at Fenway Park. Bringing grown men to tears. Tears, I tell you! Before last night’s All-Star Game, there were highlights of the Splinter. In 1941, he drilled a bomb deep into the right field stands for the winner winner chicken dinner. In 1946, Ted belted two All-Star-Game home runs at Fenway Park. The second off of a Rip Sewell eephus. A Rip Sewell eephus that had never before been taken yard. Ever. Williams drove in five runs and scored four times. Both All-Star Game records. In the 1950 All Star Game, he fractured his elbow crashing into the Comiskey Park wall while catching a Ralph Kiner fly ball. Played his last All-star Game in 1960. Actually played his last two All-Star Games. That’s right, in 1960, two games were played. One on July 11, and the other on the thirteenth. Williams played in the All Star Game a total of eighteen times. Heck the All-Star MVP Award is named for him. Ted always said: “A man has to have goals. For a day, for a lifetime. And that was mine, to have people say; ‘There goes the greatest hitter who ever lived.’” The man’s goal was not to have his head chopped off. Chopped off and stuck in a bucket of goo in some Arizona cryonics lab. Like Walt Disney he is frozen. He didn’t sign up for that. The only publicly known documentation that suggests Ted Williams wanted to be cryonically preserved is on a piece of scrap paper. A piece of scrap paper stained with motor oil and dated Nov. 2, 2000. A piece of scrap paper, stained with motor oil and dated Nov. 2, 2000, that spells out some wacky cryonics pact. Some wacky family cryonics pact that was probably just a practice Ted Williams autograph on a plain piece of paper. A practice Ted Williams autograph that the wacky family cryonics pact had later been added. Whenever I think of it, it makes me sick. Sick, I tell you! I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Somebody should be ashamed of themself. Downright ashamed.
Josh Q. Public:Tuck you in, warm within. Keep you free from sin. Till the sandman he comes. -Metallica
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! Like my main Matthew always says, “So the last shall be first, and the first last.” Like Michael Kay said. Michael Kay is on the radio today. A few days ago, Michael Kay said Mariano Rivera should start in this summer’s 79th Midsummer Classic. Michael Kay was right. And what’s right is right. This is right. Phil Niekro says, “This final All-Star Game at Yankee Stadium is what the Stadium is all about, memories.” What better memory could there be than trotting out the Sandman to start that ballgame? Mariano may not have built this house, but he sure put a lot of work into it. Put a lot of work into it back when he was setting up John Wetteland. Back when he was setting up the first Yankees Championship in eighteen years. Back when he was setting up a Dynasty. The rest, as they say, is history. A history of memories. MLB, Terry Francona, do like M-M-M-Martin. Do like M-M-M-Malcom. Do the right thing. Howard Cosell will tell you, “What’s right isn’t always popular. What’s popular isn’t always right.” I’m here to tell ya, this will be both right and popular. Get her done.
Josh Q. Public:If we took a Halladay. Took some time to celebrate. Just one day out of life. It would be, it would be so nice. -Madonna
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! Have another drink on me Doc Holliday. Have another drink on me. You deserve it. The hardest working man in show business. There’s no business like show business like no business I know. Two balmy nights ago at Safeco Field, Roy Halladay was on the hill. King of the hill. Two balmy nights ago at Safeco Field, the king of the hill notched his sixth complete game. Notched twice as many complete games as any other pitcher in the majors. Yowza! Just another a day at the office. Just another four hit, six strike-out, no walk performance. Just like he always does. Like he did back in ‘03. Back in ‘03 when Halladay led the American League in wins. Led in games started. Led in shutouts and innings. Needless to say, he won the Cy back in ‘03. In an age of pitch counts, Roy Halladay is a throw back. A go back. An Adrianne Barbeau back. Like my main man Leo Mazzone always says,”We pay attention to pitch counts, but there are a bunch of priorities ahead of pitch counts…What i####uy’s out there, he’s got a hundred pitches and he isn’t tired?” Ya what about that? Harry Leroy Halladay. That’s what’s about that. Harry Leroy Halladay don’t get tired. Ya heard? Don’t get tired. Since 2000, Harry Leroy Halladay has the most complete games in baseball. Thirty-five complete games in baseball. That’s more than Livian Hernandez. That’s more that Randy Johnson. That’s more than a lot of folks. He’s led baseball three out of the last five years. A gaggle of complete games. Rockin’ Robin Roberts would be proud. So would Kid Nichols. So would Warren Spahn. Greg Maddux. Those guys there. So would Dave Steib and Jim Clancy. When all is said and done, Halladay will go down as the greatest Blue Jays pitcher ever. When all is said and done, Halladay will go down as a first ballot Hall of Famer. When all is said and done, he will go down as the best pitcher of his generation.
Public Acknowledgements: Bobby Dimes, Hank Williams Jr., and Ethel Merman
Josh Q. Public:I’m unbeatable like Rocky Marciano. Hit ya right bellow the belt, now your singing soprono. Talk what ya talk, still you don’t know what I know. -House of Pain
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! Oh boy! How ’bout them juggernaut Red Sox? Them sluggernaut Red Sox. Them punch you in the muggernaut Red Sox. The best team in baseball just keeps getting better. She dreams in color, she dreams in red, can’t find a better man. Two grannies. Yea, you know I’m getting silly. I’ve got a Grandma Hazel and a Grandma Tilly. JD Drew’s got a Grandma Hazel. Mike Lowell’s got a Grandma Tilly. Drew’s salami was an opposite field bomb into the Monster seats in the second to put the Sox up 4-1. Lowell’s was just piling on. Going that extra miling on. Making it all worthwhiling on. Piling it on en route to a four game sweep of the Royals. Piling it on en route to a perfect seven-game homestand. Piling it on en route to win ten straight home games. Piling it on en route to the best record in baseball. Wooo doggie! And what a way to get there. Daisuke Matsuzakaimproved his record to 8-0 to become the first Japanese born pitcher to win nine consecutive regular-season big-league decisions on this side of the Pacific. Jon Lester staves off cancer to throw a no-no Nanette. Rookie Justin Masterson gets called up from the farm to pitch a gem in his first ever start. Big bad Bartolo Colon, the former Cy Young winner, picks up his first win in a Red Sox uniform. Don’t get any better than that. Everything’s coming up roses. You’ll be swell! You’ll be great! Gonna have the whole world on the plate! Sarting here, starting now. Honey, everything’s coming up roses! Yes they are. The Sox are the hottest team in baseball. You know it. I know it. Casey Stengel knows it. Good pitching will always stop good hitting and vice-versa. The Red Sox are hitting. They have averaged seven runs per game during this current streak. The Red Sox are pitching. Despite a lackluster performance last night from the bullpen, the pitching has allowed a meager four runs per game during this current streak. This team is destined for greatness. This thing is theirs to lose. Sean Casey: “This is probably the best team I’ve ever played on.” That means better than the 2006 World Series Tigers. That means better than 1997’s World Series Indians. Now, the greatest team Sean Casey has ever played on, hits the road. Now, the defending world champion Red Sox, with baseball’s best record, hits the road to begin a ten-game road trip. Say, here I am, on the road again. There I am, up on the stage. Here I go, playing star again. There I go, turn the page. Roll Sox roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Stan Lee, Pearl Jam, Beastie Boys, Jed Clampett, Gypsie and Bob Seger
Josh Q. Public:Everyday the sun’ll shine. Took this dream and made it mine. I’m gettin’ down one thing that I know. We’re untouchable. -DMX
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! Wooo doggie! Archie Moonlight Graham once asked, “Is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?” Jon Lester will tell you the answer is yes. Undoubtedly, yes. Assuredly, yes. Positively, yes. Jon Lester. The very bester. The pound your chester. The bulletproof vester. Jon Lester was bulletproof last night, boyyyyyyy. Lester was ahead in the count on twenty of the twenty-nine batters he faced. Lester struck out nine batters. Lester walked just two batters. Batter, batter, batter, swiiiiing batter. Lester threw his first career complete game. And yes, Lester threw a no-hitter. Doesn’t get much better than that. Well, pitching the clinching game of a World Series is pretty good too. And oh ya, beating cancer, that’s not too bad either. What a story, what a story. You thought the Rich Ankiel story was good. You thought the Josh Hamilton story was good. You were right. This one’s better. You know it by now. Bellarmine Preparatory School. Tacoma, Washington. Phenom. Phenomenal. GatoradeState Player of the Year. Minor Leagues. Portland Sea Dogs. League-leading 2.61 ERA. League-best 163 strikeouts. Eastern League Pitcher of the Year. Red SoxMinor League Pitcher of the Year. Year-end Topps AA All-Star squad. On top of the world looking down on creation. Best young pitcher in the nation. More fun than 101 Dalmatians. Out of this world like the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. The rookie lefty made his Major League debut in June ‘06. The rookie lefty went 7-2. The rookie lefty threw sixty Ks in eighty innings. The rookie lefty contracted the cancer. Ain’t that a shame? My tears fell like rain. On August 27th, 2006 Lester was scratched from his scheduled start due to a sore back. The following day he was placed on the 15 day disabled list. Three days later, it was reported that Lester had been diagnosed with a treatable form of anaplastic large cell lymphoma. There it was. There was a kind of hush all over the world. A deafening hush. Made my insides turn to mush. Another dream crushed. But this kid’s a fighter. He fights. He fought off the cancer. And just like The Terminator, who just like Jack Torrance, is baaaack! On March 5, Lester made his first appearance in a 2007 spring training game. He threw 8 pitches and retired the first three batters he faced. Good news. Real good news. He hasn’t looked back since. And now this. And now Lester is the first pitcher to win the clinching game of a World Series in one season and throw a no-hitter the next year since Sandy Koufax. Yowza! For he’s a jolly good fellow! For he’s a jolly good fellow! For he’s a jolly good feeeelllllooooww! Which nobody can deny! Curt Schilling can’t deny it: “This isn’t even about baseball. It just doesn’t get any better the way a guy like that comes back to us.” No it doesn’t Curt, no it doesn’t.
Public Acknowledgements: Field of dreams, Cameron Frye, The Carpenters, Arnold and The Shining
Josh Q. Public: And I’m a bad boy ’cause I don’t even miss her. I’m a bad boy, for breakin’ her heart. And I’m free, free fallin’. Yeah I’m free, free fallin’. -Tom Petty
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans? What? Oh. You thought I forgot. Thought I forgot about the Yankees. Ha ha ha! Think again. Last place. This is rich. Rich I tell you! Sing it with me ####es. Follow the bouncing ball. Na, na… na, na, na, na… hey, hey, hey… goodbye. Ha ha ha ha! Goodbye Yankees. I know it. You know it. The ghost of George Herman Ruth knows it. The New York Yankees are all done. I guess it’s over, call it a day. Sorry that it had to end this way. No I’m not. I’m not sorry. Last night the Yankees fell. Last night, the Yankees fell to last place. Last night, the Yankee fell to last place in the American League Beast. Last place behind theRays. Last place behind the Red Sox. Last place behind the Orioles. Last place behind the Blue Jays. The first time that the Yankees have resided in sole possession of last place this many games in since 1995. Ha ha ha! Poor old George Steinbrenner must be rolling around in his grave right about now. Can you blame him? The Yankees are atrocious. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious! If you say it loud enough, you’ll always sound precocious. I don’t care. I don’t care if I sound precocious. It’s true. Like my main Casey Stengel always says, “Good pitching will always stop good hitting and vice-versa.” Well, Yankees pitchers aren’t pitching and Yankees hitters aren’t hitting. You do the math. We all know about the pitching woes. The well documented pitching woes. We all know about Phil Hughes. On the DL. We all know about Ian Kennedy. Akinori Iwamura’s bomb on Kennedy’s fourth pitch of the game last night put the Rays ahead for good. We all know about Kei Igawa. Back down on the farm. We all know about them. It’s the hitting, or lack there of. It’s the lack of hitting that’s sinking this Yankees ship. It’s the lack of hitting that has these Yankees in such trouble. Big trouble. Big trouble in little China. Adventure doesn’t come any bigger! Against Tampa Bay’s four starting pitchers, the Yankees scored two runs in 27 1/3 innings. On this 2-4 road trip, they hit .214 with runners in scoring position. 9-for-42 with zero home runs and a paltry three extra-base hits. Ha ha ha! Where’s A-Broad when you need him? Where’s hip hip Jor-ge? There’s no need to fear. Captain Caveman is here. Leadoff hitter Captain Caveman was 1-for-18 in the Tampa Bay series. That’s no way to start your day. Maybe putting on gold lame underwear is. Jason Giambi is hitting .181. Jason Giambi is in a funk. You know what that means. Whenever he is in a prolonged hitting funk, he wears a gold lamé, tiger-stripe thong under his uniform. “I only put it on when I’m desperate to get out of a big slump.” Ha ha ha! It doesn’t get more desperate than this. It doesn’t get more desperate than last place. All I can say is, Let’s Go Mets! Tonight’s the night we’re gonna make it happen. Tonight we’ll put all other things aside. Keep stepping on those Yankees necks. Put them out of their misery. No division. No Wild Card. No nothing. Take your shoes off. Put your feet up. Sit back, relax, and be a Sox watcher. Roll Sox, roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Gary DeCarlo, Johnny Mathis, Mary Poppins, Jack Burton and the Pointer Sisters
Josh Q. Public:Well I’ve been thinking ’bout all the places we’ve surfed and danced and all the places we’ve missed, so let’s get back together and do it again. -Beach Boys
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! The greatest right handed hitter to ever don a Red Sox uniform has done did it again. The greatest right handed hitter in the history of baseball has done did it again. Manny Ramirez has done did it again. Manny Ramirez’s two-run bomb off the Bayonne Bleeder, Joe Borowski, in the top of the ninth was the winner winner chicken dinner. The ninth winner winner chicken dinner in Manny’s career. The third winner winner chicken dinner as a Red Sox. And when I say winner winner chicken dinner, you know what I’m talking about boyyyyyy. I’m talking about a go-ahead homer in the ninth inning or later. No such thing as clutch. Bill James can eat my shorts. I’m more of a Siwoffian statistician anyway. Big Papi ain’t right. That much is clear. Manny is right. Right as rain. Well, that’s all right, mama. That’s all right for you. That’s all right mama, just anyway you do. Manny did in the top of the ninth. Two outs. One on. All tied up. Manny saunters up. You knew it. I knew it. Bill James knew it. Gone! Connectamundo. Power pose. Why pitch to this cat? Eck tried it. Wow! Joe Girardi tried it over the week-end. See what happens? Manny makes you pay. That’s what happens. That’s the way it is with a wiseguy partner. He gets his money no matter what. You got no business? #### you, pay me. You had a fire? #### you, pay me. The place got hit by lightning and World War Three started in the lounge? #### you, pay me. Hold it now, hold it now, hit it. Manny is the greatest hitter in baseball today. He hits with power. He hits to the opposite field. He hits with two strikes. He hits and he hits and he hits. Roll Sox roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Chuck Wepner, Jeff Gordon, Beastie Boys, Elvis and Goodfellas
Josh Q. Public:Do that to me one more time. Once is never enough with a man like you. Do that to me one more time. I can never get enough of a man like you. -Captain & Tennille
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Like my main man Roy Hobbs always says: ”God, I love baseball.” Me too Roy, me too. I love my Red Sox, and I love Big Papi. The most feared hitter in all of baseball. The most cheered hitter in all of baseball. The most endeared hitter in all of baseball. Finally! Finally, it has happened to me. Right in front of my face, my feelin’s can’t describe it. Finally it has happened to me. Right in front of my face and I just cannot hide it. Finally, David Ortiz has broken out. Finally, David Ortiz has spoken out. Finally, David Ortiz has found his stroken out. David Ortiz didn’t hit a home run during Spring Training. Oh for eleven in his first three games of the regular season. Struck out in his first at bat in his fourth game last night. Enough is enough. Second at bat. Single. Next at bat. Going, going, gone! How about that? Now it’s baseball season. Big Papi wins another one. Now the game is on. The clutchest of the clutch once again proved that he is too much. The man with the golden touch. Bill James may disagree. Bill James may tell you there’s no such thing as clutch. Bill James can go to Hell. I saw Senor Octubre go yard off of Jared Washburn in the 10th inning of Game Three of the 2004 ALDS. Ohhhh Doctor! I saw Senor Octubre go yard in the twelfth inning off of Paul Quantrill in Game Four of the 2004 ALCS. Whoa Nelly! I saw Senor Octubre smash a fourteenth-inning single to center field driving in the Caveman from second base in Game Five of the 2004 ALCS. Holy Cow! I saw all of those things. I saw all of those things and I saw a whole lot more. Who’s your Papi? No such thing as clutch? Whatta maroon! Whatta ignoramus! Last season, Papi’s power numbers dipped. But, Big Papi is healthy again. His ####ed up knee has been surgically repaired. His sore shoulder has had a winter of rest. Geronimo, look out below! Last night was only the beginning. Only just the start. The greatest clutch hitter in baseball history done did it again! So bring on the Yankees. Bring on anybody. Bring on everybody. We got Papi and ain’t nobody does me better. Makes me happy, makes me feel this way.
Public Acknowledgements: The Natural, Ce Ce Pennison, Mel Allen, Jerry Coleman, Keith Jackson, Phil Rizzuto, Bugs Bunny and Chaka Khan
Josh Q. Public: One more time. We’re gonna celebrate. Oh yeah, alright. Don’t stop the dancin’. One more time. -Daft Punk
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! First place baby! First place. First place thanks to Mr. Manny Ramirez. While you were sleeping, I was watching baseball. While you were sleeping, I was watching Boston Red Sox baseball. While you were sleeping, I was watching Manny Ramirez hit a two-run double in the top of the 10th inning to rally the Boston Red Sox over the Oakland Athletics. Woo doggy! What a way to the start the day. What a way to the start the season. Manny ####ed in four runs. Manny ####ed a two-out, two-strike pitch off the center field wall at the Tokyo Dome. Manny ####ed in Julio Lugo and Big Papi with the go-ahead runs. Ballgame! Make no mistake about it. This the Year of the Ram. The Man-Ram. Manny picked up where he left off in the post-season. Manny picked up where he left off in last year’s championship post-season. Last year’s championship post season where Manny tore it up. Hardcored it up. Katy bar the doored it up. Katy bar the doored it up with four bombs. Katy bar the doored it up with sixteen baseknocks. Sure last season wasn’t his best. Sure last season was the first season he didn’t receive any MVP votes. Sure last season his .493 slugging percentage was an all time low. This year will be different. He’s worked harder than ever in the off-season. And that’s saying something. That’s saying a lot. He’s spent two months working out in Arizona. He’s abandoned the split grip in his batting stance. He’s no longer resting his bat on his shoulder as the pitcher heads into his windup. Manny finished spring training at .300. He’s started the regular season with a ####. Expect more from Manny. Expect more from the greatest Red Sox of all time. Heresy you say? Blasphemy? Apostasy? I say, free your mind and the rest will follow. Be colorblind, don’t be so shallow. I’ve heard the criticisms. You lollygag the ball around the outfield. You lollygag your way down to first. You lollygag in and out of the dugout. You know what that makes you? A lollygagger! People take offense to his posing after titanic moon shots. People can shut the hell up. All I know is, for the second time in four years, the Sox snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Snatched victory from the jaws of defeat and played themselves into the World Series. Played themselves into the World Series thanks, in large part, to Mr. Ramirez. Took all the breath out of the Cleveland Indians. You’re every song I sing. You’re the music that I play. And you take my breath away. And that’s just it. Manny is the music the Red Sox play. So say what you will about Manny. Whatever gives you a thrill about Manny. Sing like the Barber of Seville about Manny. But know this, in this new era of Boston Red Sox baseball, this winning era of Boston Red Sox baseball, Manny is the straw that stirs the drink. Roll Sox roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Jed Clampett, Boston Herald, En Vogue, Bull Durham, Rex Smith and Reggie Jackson
josh q. public. For the public, by The Public. Irreverent sports opinion from a Bostonian in New York. The one blog to read, when you’re reading more than one. Good to the last drop!
hitting and vice-versa. The Red Sox are hitting. They have averaged seven runs per game during this current streak. The Red Sox are pitching. Despite a lackluster performance last night from the bullpen, the pitching has allowed a meager four runs per game during this current streak. This team is destined for greatness. This thing is theirs to lose. Sean Casey: “This is probably the best team I’ve ever played on.” That means better than the 2006 World Series Tigers. That means better than 1997’s World Series Indians. Now, the greatest team Sean Casey has ever played on, hits the road. Now, the defending world champion Red Sox, with baseball’s best record, hits the road to begin a ten-game road trip. Say, here I am, on the road again. There I am, up on the stage. Here I go, playing star again. There I go, turn the page. Roll Sox roll!
Ankiel story was good. You thought the Josh Hamilton story was good. You were right. This one’s better. You know it by now. Bellarmine Preparatory School. Tacoma, Washington. Phenom. Phenomenal. Gatorade State Player of the Year. Minor Leagues. Portland Sea Dogs. League-leading 2.61 ERA. League-best 163 strikeouts. Eastern League Pitcher of the Year. Red Sox Minor League Pitcher of the Year. Year-end Topps AA All-Star squad. On top of the world looking down on creation. Best young pitcher in the nation. More fun than 101 Dalmatians. Out of this world like the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. The rookie lefty made his Major League debut in June ‘06. The rookie lefty went 7-2. The rookie lefty threw sixty Ks in eighty innings. The rookie lefty 
contracted the cancer. Ain’t that a shame? My tears fell like rain. On August 27th, 2006 Lester was scratched from his scheduled start due to a sore back. The following day he was placed on the 15 day disabled list. Three days later, it was reported that Lester had been diagnosed with a treatable form of anaplastic large cell lymphoma. There it was. There was a kind of hush all over the world. A deafening hush. Made my insides turn to mush. Another dream crushed. But this kid’s a fighter. He fights. He fought off the cancer. And just like The Terminator, who just like Jack Torrance, is baaaack! On March 5, Lester made his first appearance in a 2007 spring training game. He threw 8 pitches and retired the first three batters he faced. Good news. Real good news. He hasn’t looked back since. And now 
this. And now Lester is the first pitcher to win the clinching game of a World Series in one season and throw a no-hitter the next year since Sandy Koufax. Yowza! For he’s a jolly good fellow! For he’s a jolly good fellow! For he’s a jolly good feeeelllllooooww! Which nobody can deny! Curt Schilling can’t deny it: “This isn’t even about baseball. It just doesn’t get any better the way a guy like that comes back to us.” No it doesn’t Curt, no it doesn’t.
place behind the Red Sox. Last place behind the Orioles. Last place behind the Blue Jays. The first time that the Yankees have resided in sole possession of last place this many games in since 1995. Ha ha ha! Poor old George Steinbrenner must be rolling around in his grave right about now. Can you blame him? The Yankees are atrocious. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Even though the sound of it is something quite atrocious! If you say it loud enough, you’ll always sound precocious. I don’t care. I don’t care if I sound precocious. It’s true. Like my main Casey Stengel always says, “Good pitching will always stop good hitting and vice-versa.” Well, Yankees pitchers aren’t pitching and Yankees hitters aren’t hitting. You do the math. We all know about the pitching woes. The well documented pitching woes. We all know about Phil Hughes. On the DL. We all know 
about Ian Kennedy. Akinori Iwamura’s bomb on Kennedy’s fourth pitch of the game last night put the Rays ahead for good. We all know about Kei Igawa. Back down on the farm. We all know about them. It’s the hitting, or lack there of. It’s the lack of hitting that’s sinking this Yankees ship. It’s the lack of hitting that has these Yankees in such trouble. Big trouble. Big trouble in little China. Adventure doesn’t come any bigger! Against Tampa Bay’s four starting pitchers, the Yankees scored two runs in 27 1/3 innings. On this 2-4 road trip, they hit .214 with runners in scoring position. 9-for-42 with zero home runs and a paltry three extra-base hits. Ha ha ha! Where’s A-Broad when you need him? Where’s hip hip 
Jor-ge? There’s no need to fear. Captain Caveman is here. Leadoff hitter Captain Caveman was 1-for-18 in the Tampa Bay series. That’s no way to start your day. Maybe putting on gold lame underwear is. Jason Giambi is hitting .181. Jason Giambi is in a funk. You know what that means. Whenever he is in a prolonged hitting funk, he wears a gold lamé, tiger-stripe 
go-ahead homer in the ninth inning or later. No such thing as clutch. Bill James can eat my shorts. I’m more of a Siwoffian statistician anyway. Big Papi ain’t right. That much is clear. Manny is right. Right as rain. Well, that’s all right, mama. That’s all right for you. That’s all right mama, just anyway you do. Manny did in the top of the ninth. Two outs. One on. All tied up. Manny saunters up. You knew it. I knew it. Bill James knew it. Gone! Connectamundo. Power pose. Why pitch to this cat? Eck tried it. Wow! Joe Girardi tried it over the week-end. See what happens? Manny makes you pay. That’s what happens. That’s the way it is with a wiseguy partner. He gets his money no matter what. You got no business? 
Enough is enough. Second at bat. Single. Next at bat. Going, going, gone! How about that? Now it’s baseball season. Big Papi wins another one. Now the game is on. The clutchest of the clutch once again proved that he is too much. The man with the golden touch. Bill James may disagree. Bill James may tell you there’s no such thing as clutch. Bill James can go to Hell. I saw Senor Octubre go yard off of Jared Washburn in the 10th inning of Game Three of the 2004 ALDS. Ohhhh Doctor! I saw Senor Octubre go yard in the twelfth inning off of Paul Quantrill in Game Four of the 2004 ALCS. Whoa Nelly! I saw Senor Octubre smash a fourteenth-inning single to center field driving in the 
Manny picked up where he left off in last year’s championship post-season. Last year’s championship post season where Manny tore it up. Hardcored it up. Katy bar the doored it up. Katy bar the doored it up with four bombs. Katy bar the doored it up with sixteen baseknocks. Sure last season wasn’t his best. Sure last season was the first season he didn’t receive any MVP votes. Sure last season his .493 slugging percentage was an all time low. This year will be different. He’s worked harder than ever in the off-season. And that’s saying something. That’s saying a lot. He’s spent two months working out in Arizona. He’s abandoned the split grip in his batting stance. He’s no 
longer resting his bat on his shoulder as the pitcher heads into his windup. Manny finished spring training at .300. He’s started the regular season with a 
jaws of defeat. Snatched victory from the jaws of defeat and played themselves into the World Series. Played themselves into the World Series thanks, in large part, to Mr. Ramirez. Took all the breath out of the Cleveland Indians. You’re every song I sing. You’re the music that I play. And you take my breath away. And that’s just it. Manny is the music the Red Sox play. So say what you will about Manny. Whatever gives you a thrill about Manny. Sing like the Barber of Seville about Manny. But know this, in this new era of Boston Red Sox baseball, this winning era of Boston Red Sox baseball, Manny is the straw that stirs the drink. Roll Sox roll! 
