Josh Q. Public:It is the spirit and not the form of law that keeps justice alive. -Earl Warren
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit. I do not like it in a house. I do not like it with a mouse. I do not like it here or there. I do not like it anywhere. You may say I’m a homer. You may say I’m out of order. I say, you’re out of order! You’re out of order! The whole trial is out of order! Boom Boom Beckett was robbed. He was jobbed. He was rump swabbed. Just like Pedro was robbed by I-Rod oh so many years ago. I don’t care that in the last game of the season Beckett looked more like Matt Young than he did Cy Young. I don’t care that CC pitched more innings than Boom Boom. I don’t care that he threw fifteen more strikeouts. I don’t care what they say about us anyway. I don’t care about that. I care that Josh Boom Boom Beckett was the best pitcher in the American League this year. Who would you want on the hill? King of the Hill. And just so you know, Beckett struck out (.96) per inning while Sabathia struck out even fewer, a paltry (.84) per inning. So put that in your pipe and smoke it. Boom Boom Beckett walked only forty batters all season. Boom Boom Beckett only allowed seventeen bombs. Boom Boom Beckett Beckett limited opponents to a .245 batting average. Boom Boom Beckett held opponents to .207 with runners in scoring position. He outshined Sabathia in all these categories. Outdevined Sabathia. Out walked the line Sabathia. Doesn’t that count for something? Doesn’t twenty games? I remember when twenty games meant something. I remember when that was how a pitcher was measured. Boy, the way Glenn Miller played. Songs that made the Hit Parade. Guys like us, we had it made. Those were the days. Not so much anymore. Not for Mark Feinsand of the New York Daily News or Jorge Ortiz of USA Today. I guess twenty games means bupkus to them. Those Bozos each listed Sabathia, Lackey and Fausto Carmona on their ballots. No Boom Boom Beckett in sight. That just ain’t right. Makes you wanna fight. Fight for your right. To party! No partying now. Not after this travesty. Not after this mockery. This trial 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. I guess you can’t have everything.
Public Acknowledgements: Dr. Seuss, And Justice For All, Weezer, Mike Judge, The Brockton Enterprise, All In The Family, Beastie Boys and Woody Allen
Josh Q. Public:So come on get your rocks off. I’m gonna knock your Sox off, you’ll see, oh yeah. -Steve Miller Band
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Boom Boom Beckett! Goodness gracious me oh my oh. Did you see Beckett light up Ohio? I did. I got chills. They’re multiplying. And I’m losing control. ‘Cause the power you’re supplying, it’s electrifying. Boom Boom was electrifying. He’s the one that I want. Hoo hoo hoo. The one that I want in big games. Like Ned the pie maker bringing the Sox back from the dead. Pick up my bones. Erase my name from off the tombstones. I’ll rock a mausoleum, backyard or coliseum. Boom Beckett rocked a coliseum. Rocked the Jake. For the second time in this series, Beckett smashed CC Sabathia. I said C. CC Rider. Oh see, what you have done. A whole lot of nothing, that’s what. Beckett threw 109 pitches. 109 beautiful pitches. 109 dazzling pitches. 109 bewildering pitches. He dropped in knee buckling curveballs. He dropped in mind bending change ups. He threw heat. High heat. Hard heat. High hard 96 mph heat. High hard 96 mph heat well into the eighth inning. High hard 96 mph heat well into the eighth inning and proving he is the best post season pitcher of all time. Move over Reggie, there’s a new Mr. October. There’s a new Mr. October and he goes by the name of Boom Boom Beckett. Last night, Beckett went eight innings. Last night Beckett gave up one measly run. Last night Beckett gave up a paltry five hits with one meager walk. Last night, he threw eleven strikeouts. Last nite, she said, oh baby don’t feel so down. Red Sox fans don’t feel down. How could we? How could we with Boom Boom on the mound? For this postseason, he has a 1.17 ERA. In 23 innings, he has struck out 26 and walked one. Yowza! Those are Bob Gibson numbers. Those are Sandy Koufax numbers. Historic numbers. Momentous numbers. Illustrious numbers. Now it’s time for Schilling and D-Nice to follow suit. Roll Sox roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Grease, Pushing Daisies, House of Pain, Elvis and The Strokes
Josh Q. Public: I am the greatest. I said that even before I knew I was. -Muhammed Ali
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! Like my main man Jesse Jackson always says: Hold your head up high. Stick out you chest. You can make it. It gets dark sometimes, but morning comes. Keep Hope Alive. Things are not even that dire. Dire Straits. I want my MTV! I want a championship! We’ve come through worse than this. Haven’t we? So Daisuke Matsuzaka didn’t have his best outing Monday night? So Curt Schilling didn’t on Saturday night? So Tim Wakefield didn’t last night. So everything seems to be falling Cleveland’s way. So it appears the Boston Red Sox are up against the ropes. Right up to your face and dis you. Rope-a-dope! Red Sox bombaye! Red Sox bombaye! We got Boom Boom Beckett going tomorrow night. Twenty game winner Boom Boom Beckett. Boom Boom Beckett who beat Cleveland ace C.C. Sabathia in Game one. Boom Boom Beckett who in Game One of the AL Division Series against the Halos, opened with a complete-game shutout. Opened with a complete-game shutout and struck out eight. Struck out eight and issued zero walks. Boom Boom Beckett who was in this same position four years ago. Four years ago when the Chicago Cubs stood just one win away from reaching their first World Series since 1945. Choke the goat! Four years ago, Boom Boom Beckett stepped in and led the Marlins to an improbable comeback. An implausible comeback. An inconceivable comeback. Inconceivable! You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. Boom Boom Beckett knows what it means. This means war! Boom Boom Beckett took the ball in Game Five of the 2003 National League Championship Series and threw a masterful two-hit complete-game shutout to send the series back to the Windy City. Back to sweet home Chicago where Florida proved victorious. Proved victorious and rolled through the Bombers en route to their second ring. ‘Cause everybody knows, it don’t mean a thing if you don’t get that ring. Doo-wab-di-wab doo-wab-di-wab doo-wab-di-wab doo-wab-di-wah. The Boston Red Sox will prove victorious. This is a team of destiny. This is not your Daddy’s Red Sox. This is the never say die Red Sox. The never can say good-bye Red Sox. This is the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie Red Sox. That’s amore! So hold your head up high. Stick out you chest. Keep Hope Alive. Roll Sox Roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Mark Knopfler, Beastie Boys, Princess Bride and Cab Calloway
Josh Q. Public:My heart going boom boom boom, Son, he said, Grab your things, I’ve come to take you home. -Peter Gabriel
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans? Now that’s what I’m talking about! A statement win. The Red Sox mean business. Big Business. Growed folks business. Playoff baseball business. The Greek God of Walks started things off. Youky. Youky getting ####y. Youky getting kooky. M-m-m-m-m-m Mookie. Like Mookie, Youkilis started the fire. Tell me now baby is he good to you? Can he do to you the things that I do? I can take you higher. I’m on fire. Youkilis is on fire. Big time bomb. Big time bomb over the big Green Monster. Big time bomb over the big Green Monster followed up by a big time double. Then those two words. Those two beautiful words. Those two wonderful words. The two most delicious words in the English language. Papi’s up! Gone! See you later. See you later alligator. In a while crocodile. When I move, you move. Just like that. Just like that, it’s three zip. A Manny walk and Mike Lowell single later, it’s four zip. Just like that. That’s all it took. Just one look. That’s all it took, hah. Just one look. That’s all it took because the best pitcher in all of baseball was on the hill. On the hill with skills to pay the bills. While Youk, Manny and Big Papi were starting fires, Boom Boom Beckett was putting them out. Filthy. Nasty. Disgusting. Nauseating. Repugnant. Repulsive. Revolting. All of it. The Angels could only muster a paltry four singles in nine innings off Boston ace Josh Beckett. How’s that Hanley Ramirez for Boom Boom and Lowell trade looking now? Yes, Hanley will be a very good shortstop for a very long time. But I’ll take a ring any day. Boom Boom Beckett is just the guy to get that ring. You saw it. You saw Beckett simply stifle the halos. Stifle yourself, Edith! He didn’t let them breathe. Didn’t let them breathe for one minute. Strike after strike. Out after out. Batter after batter. It was something to behold. After Chone Figgins’ leadoff single in the first, Boom Boom retired nineteen consecutive Angels. Nineteen! Oh my! No halos shining tonight. Those nineteen batters matched the third-longest string of batters retired in postseason history. Yowza! Boom Boom Beckett threw 98-mph fastballs Boom Boom Beckett threw 76-mph curves. And that changeup. That change-up. Mercy mercy me. Boom Boom threw first-pitch strikes to 25 of 31 hitters. He threw seventeen in a row from the second through seventh innings. He struck out eight. He walked none. Of his 108 pitches, 83 were strikes. How about that? How about this? Only one Angels runner reached third; two reached second. That my friends, is what an ace looks like. Maybe, as often it goes. Your baby may tire of his rose. So baby, this rule I propose. Always have an ace in the hole. This ace in the hole just stepped it a notch. He’s been known to that in the post season. Don’t believe me? Just ask the Yankees. Today the Angels. Tomorow the world! The World Series that is. Swimming pools. Movie stars. Y’all come back now, y’hear? Roll Sox, roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Los Angeles Times, Do the Right Thing, Bruce Springsteen, Bill Haley & the Comets, Ludacris, Linda Ronstadt, Beastie Boys, #### Enberg, Mel Allen, Marvin ####e, Ella Fitzgerald and the Beverly Hillbillies
Josh Q. Public: I got the skill, you gots to chill. ‘Cause I bring doom. I got the boom sha lock lock boom. -House of Pain.
Public Service Announcement: Ok, here we go! Johan Santana? You can have him. Roy Halliday? He can be your huckleberry. Roy Oswalt? Who needs him? Who needs any of them? We’ve got the best pitcher in baseball today. We got Josh Boom Boom Beckett. No kiddin’. I’m ready to fight. I’ve been lookin’ for my baby all night. If I get her in my sight: Boom! Boom! Out go the lights! It was lights outs for the A’s last night. Boom Boom started the game with twelve straight outs last night. Started the season with six straight wins. At this pace, he’s going to go 36-0. At this pace, he’ll be the first thirty game winner since the Year of the Tiger. Since the year of Denny McClain. Since Denny won thirty-one out of thirty-six games. Since he won the Cy Young Award, the Most Valuable Player Award and The Sporting News Pitcher of the Year and Player of the Year Awards. That’s what we have to look forward to. Boom Boom has already pitched himself into elite company. Three’s Company. Come and dance on our floor. Take a step that is new. We’ve a loveable space that needs your face, three’s company too. Taking a space right up there with Babe Ruth and Roger Clemens. The only pitchers in Red Sox history to win their first three outings while allowing no more than one run and striking out at least five in each game. Yowza! He was 3-0 last year too. But his curve ball wasn’t as nasty last year. Not nearly as filthy last year. Not as disgusting, repugnant, malodorous, revolting or vulgar last year. He’s throwing a nice little change too. Taking three pitches into a game and not just having to rely on velocity. And three times one. What is it? Three! Yeah, that’s a magic number. Almost as magical as 2003. You remember 2003, dontcha? Yankees fans do. They remember the World Series. They remember Boom Boom on three days rest. Shutting out the Yankees on three days rest. Shutting out the Yankees on three days rest in the deciding game of the 2003 World Series to win MVP honors. That’s why the Sox grabbed him. That’s why the Sox nabbed him. Abra-abra-cadabra. I want to reach out and grab ya. Abracadabra. Abracadabra, he’s no longer just a thrower. Abracadabra, now he’s a pitcher. Instead of dropping in his curve-ball a few times an inning, he’s now dropping it in on 2-1 counts. When the pimp’s in the crib ma, drop it like it’s hot. Drop it like it’s hot. Instead of backing up his fastball with just another fastball he’s dropping change-ups like there hot. And don’t forget, his fastball is still hot. Mid nineties hot. Ole ole. Ole ole. Me mind on fire. Me soul on fire. Feeling hot hot hot. Now that change just freezes mugs. Now, that curve just freezes mugs. He’s Mister Icicle. He’s Mister Ten Below. What ever I touch, turns to snow in my clutch. Too much. He’s too much all right. Boom Boom has won each of his first six starts this season. Over the last 30 years, the only other Boston pitcher to win his first six starts of a season was the Rocket in 1991. Boom is now 6-0 with a 2.72 ERA, 35 strikeouts, nine walks and only one home run allowed in 39.2 innings pitched this season. Last season after six starts, Beckett was 3-1 with a 4.86 ERA, 23 strikeouts, 16 walks and six home runs allowed in 37 innings pitched. Think he’s turned the corner? I do. Roll Sox roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Tombstone, Little Walter, Chrissie Snow, Schoolhouse Rock, Steve Miller Band, Snoop Dogg, Buster Pointdexter, Mr. Snow Miser and Seymour Seywoff.
Josh Q. Public:You gotta roll, roll, roll. You gotta thrill my soul, alright. Roll, roll, roll, roll-a, thrill my soul. Let it roll, all night long.-Doors
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go! The Boston Red Sox. I made a bet with my boy Nostradomus. Bet, bet bet…BEEEEEEETTTTTTTTTT! Fred Flintstone style. I had Tiger, he had the field. I lost. Now I have to write a post praising the Yankees. Egads man. Not today though. I gotta sha-la-la-la-la-la, live for today though. And don’t worry ’bout tomorrow, hey, hey, hey though. ‘Cause the Sox are rolling today. Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’. Though the streams are swollen. Keep them Bosox rollin’. Red Sox! How ’bout them Red Sox? Three in a row. Three, it’s the magic number. Five of their last six. Playing knick knack on some sticks. Seven of their last ten. Do it again. These old Sox are rolling home. How ’bout Josh Boom Boom Beckett? Another win yesterday. Three and oh after yesterday. 1.50 ERA and 18 Ks after yesterday. Yowza! Schilling’s back. Back on track. Back on track, leading the pack. I met him at the candy store. He turned around and smiled at me. You get the picture? Yes, we see. That’s when I fell for the leader of the pack. Matzuka, Matsuzaka Matsuzaka. The new king of ole Fenway Pahka. I think it’s fair to say he’s for real. The real deal. Hard as steel. Tim Wakefield is pitching better than I’ve seen in a while. Better than he’s ever been in a while. An inning machine in a while. With Wakefield pitching better than I’ve seen in a while and Jon Lester tearing it up for the Greenville Drive, the Sox may soon have the best staff in baseball. Woo doggie! This is getting good. Better than I thought it would. Better than you thought it should. And what about Papi? The man you just can’t stoppie. On the world, he is atoppie. On top of the world looking down on creation. Just on a tear. Two bombs and eight ribbies in the last two days. He’s on fire. Up in here, it’s burning hot. He’s on fire. Shorty, take it off, if it get to hot, up in this spot. He’s on fire. He’s not the only one. Not the only one getting it done. Having some fun. Julio Lugo’s having some fun. Having some fun with the glove. Oh, sweet darling, you get the best of my glove. The best of his glove darting out to center to make a grab that saved a run. The best of his glove down on his knees saying please, please. JD Drew’s having some fun. Having some fun on the run with a burger and a bun and a dish of applesauce on the siiiiiide. And just wait ’till Manny starts being Manny again. You know he will. You know he’ll thrill. This cat hits in bunches. The ball he crunches. Throwing knockout punches. The Sox can throw some knockout punches in these next couple of series. The Jays right now and the Yankees this week-end. Yup, sippin’ on coke and rum. I’m like so what im drunk. It’s the freakin’ weekend baby, I’m about to have me some fun. Have me some fun with this decimated Yankee pitching staff. Marco. Polo. Hahaha! Roll Red Sox, Roll!
Public Acknowledgements: Deadspin, Doors, Boston Globe, Boston Herald, Yahoo Sports, The Flintstones, The Grass Roots, Rawhide, Schoolhouse Rock, Shangri-las, Carpenters, Jed Clampett, Lloyd Banks, Eagles and R. Kelly
Josh Q. Public:If you wanna know the real deal about the three. Well let me tell you, they’re triple trouble ya’ll. I’m gonna bring you up to speed. -Beastie Boys
Public Service Announcement: OK, here we go!What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans? It’sso close I can taste it. Don’t waste it. You gotta embrace it. Marinate it and baste it. It tastes like sunflower seeds. It tastes like Red Man. It tastes like eight dollar beer. It tastes like peanuts and Cracker Jacks. I don’t care if I ever go back. It tastes like baseball my friends. Major League Baseball. It tastes like Boston Red Sox baseball. Take your shoes off, put your feet up, and be a Sox watcher. I’m a Sox watcher. I watch the Sox. The Boston Red Sox. Better than a bagel and lox. Tastier than whiskey on the rocks. Here’s one for the bleachers and the upper tier. Versatile like All-Temp-A-Cheer. If you wanna drink, call Mr. Belvedere. The Red Sox pitching staff. Boston’s new big three. Like my main little Ricky Pitino always says: “Larry Bird is not walking through that door, fans. Kevin McHale is not walking through that door, and Robert Parish is not walking through that door.” No they ain’t. You know who is? Schill the Thrill is crashing through that door. Josh Boom Boom Becket is bashing through that door. D-Nice is smashing through that door. Gy-ro-myte! Just like Sonny Bono on the Love Boat, Boston’s new big three is gonna, “Smash it! Bash it! Hit it with a hammer and trash it!” Smash, bash and trash opposing line-ups. Make mincemeat out of ‘em. They’ll tear those mieces to pieces.
Curt Schilling: Schilling had his final spring tune-up last night. Schilling was lights out last night. Red Sox ace Curt Schilling outpitched Twins ace Johan Santana last night. Perfect through three innings against the Twins last night. Peter perfect pimped a perfect Peter. Honey dripper, sucker sipper, big dipper, sucker dipper. Drippin’ suckers like its goin’ out-a-style. He left in the fifth having allowed just two hits in a 5-4 victory at Hammond Stadium. The Thrill threw fifty-six pitches in four and 2/3 innings allowing two measly singles. Measly like Mrs. Beasley. Did it easily. Schilling: “I’m ready to go. I’m ready to start pitching for real.” He pitched for real back in ‘04. Bloody sock back in ‘04. In my book, he gets a free pass for life. What he did in Game Six, against the Bombers, goes down as The Most Heroic Performance I’ve Ever Seen. The win against the Cardinals, icing on the cake. Ladies and gentleman, that’s what an ace looks like. 38 Pitches: “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet better than me in a game that matters.” I couldn’t agree more Curt, I couldn’t agree more.
Josh Boom Boom Becket: First off, I just love the way Boom Boom goes out there and pitches his heart out. Like a Hanson brother on crack. No turning back. Always on the attack. Last year he was the cat who could not get his off speed pitches over the plate to save his life. Or his wife. It cut like a butter knife. So he just came back with the cheese. See ya! Connectamundo! Bye-bye baseball. My, how times have changed! Now he has total command. Commander McBragg. Commander McHale. In his last outing, Boom Boom pitched seven innings. Allowed one unearned run. Gave up three paltry hits. Struck out seven. Ring’em up. Sit ’em down. This guy had just one walk in eighteen and 2/3 innings over five starts before Sunday. His final totals: twenty-nine Ks and four walks in twenty-five and 2/3 innings. Yowza! He’s hitting 95-96 on the Juggs. Good night Irene. Last year but a dream. This year, he’s strawberry ice cream. I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!
Daisuke Matsuzaka: I said it before. I’ll say it again. Believe you me, I’m gonna keep on saying it. Gy-ro-myte! D-Nice. My man. A bulldog. A burudoggu. Orel Hershiser style. Ichiban. Man of a thousand pitches. Got to know how to pony. Like Bony Maronie. Mash potata, do the alligator. Put your hand on your hips, yeah. Let your backbone slip. Just pitched five innings of no-hit baseball. No no Nanette. He’s got Jeff Ruland/Rick Mahorn stuff. You remember. McFilthy and McNasty. Johnny Most style. His fastball topped out over 100mph at the Athens Olympics. He’s not afraid to throw that cheese inside either. I’m looking at you A-Broad. The best slider in baseball today. A knee buckling, mind bending, world beating pitch sure to amaze and mystify. Put those pitches together with a Peteylike change and the demon gyroball, you get half man half incredible. We needed a guy with experience and stamina. Well, that’s what we got. His talent and work ethic are unmatched. From Sawamura Award to Cy Young Award, D-Mat will deliver. ”I’ve watched him on video,” said Phillies manager Charlie Manuel, “and with his stuff, he could win 25 games in our league.” You hear that sports fans? Huh, did you? He’s delightful, he’s delicious, he’s delectable, he’s delirious, he’s de limit, he’s deluxe, he’s de-lovely, he’s D-Nice although he hates to admit it, he’s taking out you suckers and you don’t know how he did it.
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!
the season Beckett looked more like Matt Young than he did Cy Young. I don’t care that CC pitched more innings than Boom Boom. I don’t care that he threw fifteen more strikeouts. I don’t care what they say about us anyway. I don’t care about that. I care that Josh Boom Boom Beckett was the best pitcher in the American League this year. Who would you want on the hill? King of the Hill. And just so you know, Beckett struck out (.96) per inning while Sabathia struck out even fewer, a paltry (.84) per inning. So put that in your pipe and smoke it. 
batting average. Boom Boom Beckett held opponents to .207 with runners in scoring position. He outshined Sabathia in all these categories. Outdevined Sabathia. Out walked the line Sabathia. Doesn’t that count for something? Doesn’t twenty games? I remember when twenty games meant something. I remember when that was how a pitcher was measured. Boy, the way Glenn Miller played. Songs that made the Hit Parade. Guys like us, we had it made. Those were the days. Not so much anymore. Not for Mark Feinsand of the New York Daily News or Jorge Ortiz of USA 
Today. I guess twenty games means bupkus to them. Those Bozos each listed Sabathia, Lackey and Fausto Carmona on their ballots. No Boom Boom Beckett in sight. That just ain’t right. Makes you wanna fight. Fight for your right. To party! No partying now. Not after this travesty. Not after this mockery. This trial 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. I guess you can’t have everything.
CC Sabathia. I said C. CC Rider. Oh see, what you have done. A whole lot of nothing, that’s what. Beckett threw 109 pitches. 109 beautiful pitches. 109 dazzling pitches. 109 bewildering pitches. He dropped in knee buckling curveballs. He dropped in mind bending change ups. He threw heat. High heat. Hard heat. High hard 96 mph heat. High hard 96 mph heat well into the eighth inning. High hard 96 mph heat well into the eighth inning and proving he is the best post season pitcher of all time. Move over Reggie, there’s a new Mr. October. There’s a new Mr. October and he goes by the name of Boom Boom Beckett. Last 
night, Beckett went eight innings. Last night Beckett gave up one measly run. Last night Beckett gave up a paltry five hits with one meager walk. Last night, he threw eleven strikeouts. Last nite, she said, oh baby don’t feel so down. Red Sox fans don’t feel down. How could we? How could we with Boom Boom on the mound? For this postseason, he has a 1.17 ERA. In 23 innings, he has struck out 26 and walked one. Yowza! Those are Bob Gibson numbers. Those are Sandy Koufax numbers. Historic numbers. Momentous numbers. Illustrious numbers. Now it’s time for Schilling and D-Nice to follow suit. Roll Sox roll!
So everything seems to be falling Cleveland’s way. So it appears the Boston Red Sox are up against the ropes. Right up to your face and dis you. Rope-a-dope! Red Sox bombaye! Red Sox bombaye! We got Boom Boom Beckett going tomorrow night. Twenty game winner Boom Boom Beckett. Boom Boom Beckett who beat Cleveland ace C.C. Sabathia in Game one. Boom Boom Beckett who in Game One of the AL Division Series against the Halos, opened with a complete-game shutout. Opened with a complete-game shutout and struck out eight. Struck out eight and issued zero walks. Boom Boom Beckett who was in this same position four years ago. Four years ago when the Chicago Cubs stood just one win away from reaching their first World Series since 
1945. Choke the goat! Four years ago, Boom Boom Beckett stepped in and led the Marlins to an improbable comeback. An implausible comeback. An inconceivable comeback. Inconceivable! You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. Boom Boom Beckett knows what it means. This means war! Boom Boom Beckett took the ball in Game Five of the 2003 National League Championship Series and threw a masterful two-hit complete-game shutout to send the series back to the Windy City. Back to sweet home Chicago where Florida proved victorious. Proved victorious and rolled through the Bombers en route to their second ring. ‘Cause everybody knows, it don’t mean a thing if you don’t get that ring. Doo-wab-di-wab doo-wab-di-wab doo-wab-di-wab doo-wab-di-wah. The Boston Red Sox will prove victorious. This is a team of destiny. This is not your Daddy’s Red Sox. This is the never say die Red Sox. The never can say good-bye Red Sox. This is the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie Red Sox. That’s amore! So hold your head up high. Stick out you chest. Keep Hope Alive. Roll Sox Roll! 
bomb over the big Green Monster followed up by a big time double. Then those two words. Those two beautiful words. Those two wonderful words. The two most delicious words in the English language. Papi’s up! Gone! See you later. See you later alligator. In a while crocodile. When I move, you move. Just like that. Just like that, it’s three zip. A Manny walk and Mike Lowell single later, it’s four zip. Just like that. That’s all it took. Just one look. That’s all it took, hah. Just one look. That’s all it took because the best pitcher in all of baseball was on the hill. On the hill with skills to pay the bills. While Youk, Manny and Big Papi were starting fires, Boom Boom Beckett was putting them out. Filthy. Nasty. Disgusting. Nauseating. 
Repugnant. Repulsive. Revolting. All of it. The Angels could only muster a paltry four singles in nine innings off Boston ace Josh Beckett. How’s that Hanley Ramirez for Boom Boom and Lowell trade looking now? Yes, Hanley will be a very good shortstop for a very long time. But I’ll take a ring any day. Boom Boom Beckett is just the guy to get that ring. You saw it. You saw Beckett simply stifle the halos. Stifle yourself, Edith! He didn’t let them breathe. Didn’t let them breathe for one minute. Strike after strike. Out after out. Batter after batter. It was something to behold. After Chone Figgins’ leadoff single in the first, Boom Boom retired nineteen consecutive 
Angels. Nineteen! Oh my! No halos shining tonight. Those nineteen batters matched the third-longest string of batters retired in postseason history. Yowza! Boom Boom Beckett threw 98-mph fastballs Boom Boom Beckett threw 76-mph curves. And that changeup. That change-up. Mercy mercy me. Boom Boom threw first-pitch strikes to 25 of 31 hitters. He threw seventeen in a row from the second through seventh innings. He struck out eight. He walked none. Of his 108 pitches, 83 were strikes. How about that? How about this? Only one Angels runner reached third; two reached second. That my friends, is what an 
game winner since the Year of the Tiger. Since the year of Denny McClain. Since Denny won thirty-one out of thirty-six games. Since he won the Cy Young Award, the Most Valuable Player Award and The Sporting News Pitcher of the Year and Player of the Year Awards. That’s what we have to look forward to. Boom Boom has already pitched himself into elite company. Three’s Company. Come 
and dance on our floor. Take a step that is new. We’ve a loveable space that needs your face, three’s company too. Taking a space right up there with Babe Ruth and Roger Clemens. The only pitchers in Red Sox history to win their first three outings while allowing no more than one run and striking out at least five in each game. Yowza! He was 3-0 last year too. But his curve ball wasn’t as nasty last year. Not nearly as filthy last year. Not as disgusting, repugnant, malodorous, revolting or vulgar last year. He’s 
throwing a nice little change too. Taking three pitches into a game and not just having to rely on velocity. And three times one. What is it? Three! Yeah, that’s a magic number. Almost as magical as 2003. You remember 2003, dontcha? Yankees fans do. They remember the World Series. They remember Boom Boom on three days rest. Shutting out the Yankees on three days rest. Shutting out the Yankees on three days rest in the deciding game of the 2003 World
Series to win MVP honors. That’s why the Sox grabbed him. That’s why the Sox nabbed him. Abra-abra-cadabra. I want to reach out and grab ya. Abracadabra. Abracadabra, he’s no longer just a thrower. Abracadabra, now he’s a pitcher. Instead of dropping in his curve-ball a few times an inning, he’s now dropping 
it in on 2-1 counts. When the pimp’s in the crib ma, drop it like it’s hot. Drop it like it’s hot. Instead of backing up his fastball with just another fastball he’s dropping change-ups like there hot. And don’t forget, his fastball is still hot. Mid nineties hot. Ole ole. Ole ole. Me mind on fire. Me soul on fire. Feeling hot hot hot. Now that change just freezes mugs. Now, that curve
just freezes mugs. He’s Mister Icicle. He’s Mister Ten Below. What ever I touch, turns to snow in my clutch. Too much. He’s too much all right. Boom Boom has won each of his first six starts this season. Over the last 30 years, the only other Boston pitcher to win his first six starts of a season was the Rocket in 1991. Boom is now 6-0 with a 2.72 ERA, 35 strikeouts, nine walks and only one home run allowed in 39.2 innings pitched this season. Last season after six starts, Beckett was 3-1 with a 4.86 ERA, 23 strikeouts, 16 walks and six home runs allowed in 37 innings pitched. Think he’s turned the corner? I do. Roll Sox roll!
while. An inning machine in a while. With Wakefield pitching better than I’ve seen in a while and Jon Lester tearing it up for the Greenville Drive, the Sox may soon have the best staff in baseball. Woo doggie! This is getting good. Better than I thought it would. Better than you thought it 
should. And what about Papi? The man you just can’t stoppie. On the world, he is atoppie. On top of the world looking down on creation. Just on a tear. Two bombs and eight ribbies in the last two days. He’s on fire. Up in here, it’s burning hot. He’s on fire. Shorty, take it off, if it get to hot, up in this spot. He’s on fire. He’s not the only one. Not the only one getting it done. Having some fun. Julio Lugo’s having some fun. Having some fun with the glove. Oh, sweet darling, you get the best of my glove. The best of his glove darting out to center to make a grab that saved a run. The best of his glove down on his knees saying please, please. 
JD Drew’s having some fun. Having some fun on the run with a burger and a bun and a dish of applesauce on the siiiiiide. And just wait ’till Manny starts being Manny again. You know he will. You know he’ll thrill. This cat hits in bunches. The ball he crunches. Throwing knockout punches. The Sox can throw some knockout punches in these next couple of series. The Jays right now and the Yankees this week-end. Yup, sippin’ on coke and rum. I’m like so what im drunk. It’s the freakin’ weekend baby, I’m about to have me some fun. Have me some fun with this decimated Yankee pitching staff. Marco. Polo. Hahaha! Roll Red Sox, Roll!
watcher. I watch the Sox. The Boston Red Sox. Better than a bagel and lox. Tastier than whiskey on the rocks. Here’s one for the bleachers and the upper tier. Versatile like All-Temp-A-Cheer. If you wanna drink, call Mr. Belvedere. The Red Sox pitching staff. Boston’s new big three. Like my main little Ricky Pitino always says: “Larry Bird is not walking through that door, fans. Kevin McHale is not walking through that door, and Robert Parish is not walking through that door.” No they ain’t. You know who is? Schill the Thrill is crashing through that door. Josh Boom Boom Becket is bashing through that door. D-Nice is smashing through that door. Gy-ro-myte! Just like Sonny Bono on the Love Boat, Boston’s new big three is gonna, “Smash it! Bash it! Hit it with a hammer and trash it!” Smash, bash and trash opposing line-ups. 
Make mincemeat out of ‘em. They’ll tear those mieces to pieces. 
Josh Boom Boom Becket: First off, I just love the way Boom Boom goes out there and pitches his heart out. Like a Hanson brother on crack. No turning back. Always on the attack. Last year he was the cat who could not get his off speed pitches over the plate to save his life. Or his wife. It cut like a butter knife. So he just came back with the cheese. See ya! Connectamundo! Bye-bye baseball. My, how times have changed! Now he has total command. Commander McBragg. Commander McHale. In his last outing, Boom Boom pitched seven innings. Allowed one unearned run. Gave up three paltry hits. Struck out seven. Ring’em up. Sit ’em down. This guy had just one walk in eighteen and 2/3 innings over five starts before Sunday. His final totals: twenty-nine Ks and four walks in twenty-five and 2/3 innings. Yowza! He’s hitting 95-96 on the Juggs. Good night Irene. Last year but a dream. This year, he’s strawberry ice cream. I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!
on saying it. Gy-ro-myte! D-Nice. My man. A bulldog. A burudoggu. Orel Hershiser style. Ichiban. Man of a thousand pitches. Got to know how to pony. Like Bony Maronie. Mash potata, do the alligator. Put your hand on your hips, yeah. Let your backbone slip. Just pitched five innings of no-hit baseball. No no Nanette. He’s got Jeff Ruland/Rick Mahorn stuff. You remember. McFilthy and McNasty. Johnny Most style. His fastball topped out over 100mph at the Athens Olympics. He’s not afraid to throw that cheese inside either. I’m looking at you A-Broad. The best slider in baseball today. A knee buckling, mind bending, 
world beating pitch sure to amaze and mystify. Put those pitches together with a Peteylike change and the demon gyroball, you get half man half incredible. We needed a guy with experience and stamina. Well, that’s what we got. His talent and work ethic are unmatched. From Sawamura Award to Cy Young Award, D-Mat will deliver. ”I’ve watched him on video,” said Phillies manager Charlie Manuel, “and with his stuff, he could win 25 games in our league.” You hear that sports fans? Huh, did you? He’s delightful, he’s delicious, he’s delectable, he’s delirious, he’s de limit, he’s deluxe, he’s de-lovely, he’s D-Nice although he hates to admit it, he’s taking out you suckers and you don’t know how he did it.
