Matt Clement will turn 32 this August, yet MLB.com insist on using this file photo which makes him look older than Schilling (39) Wakefield (39) and Wells (43 next saturday).  He is eleven years younger than David Wells.    Was it the line drive to the head that aged him or just a lack of good file footage?

Sure he's only played 518 consecutive games for Steinbrener et al., but the dependable Yankees left fielder was looking at an unblemished 1,769 games without missing a beat before sliding to catch a line drive by Mark Loretta in the top of the first inning and coming up with a fractured left wrist instead of the catch.  Just the night before there was a moment when he had made a tricky catch and quickly removed his glove and inspected his fingers.  "Looks hurt" I said to my viewing companion.  "Nah - this guy hasn't missed a game in over a thousand games" he said "you don't play that many games straight without playing through some degree of pain."  A few weeks ago Carl Crawford of TB, while at Fenway, made a somewhat questionable catch and spent the next day warm and cozy on the DL for his boo boo finger.  I like Carl Crawford but he's no Hideki Matsui.  Torre has got to be going insane.  "It's huge," Derek Jeter said. "It's not like you can throw somebody out there and have them do what Matsui does. Hopefully, somebody will step up."  Huge indeed with Sheff also on the DL until probably June for a sprained wrist after slamming into Shea Hillenbrand on April 29th. 

See what I'm doing here?  I'm showing our opponents my concern.  Because we beat the pants off of them last night in an absolutely poetic struggle in the kind of miserable weather that Jobu saves just for Sox Yankees matchups.  Wakefield gets run support, Foulke and Timlin are at their best and Papelbon gets the win against his hero Mariano Riviera with a far-too-plausible tying run at the plate.  The Yanks tried hard but couldn't overcome a few crucial errors and even a game show like 6th inning where each Sox batter got his own pitcher couldn't stop the impending blood loss.  In the end, we left the bases full three times and were setting ourselves up for a few weeks of bad mojo but those nine phantom runs can go forgotten as we eeked out a terrific series win and the right to get the hell out of Dodge and return to our cozy green stadium.  There isn't a chance in hell we'll actually play the Rangers tonight, with all this rain, but that's ok because alot of us will be getting sleep tonight for the first time all week. 

See ya New York.  Take care of your left fielder.  You'll need him.

When I was 17 I smoked my first cigarette.  It made my head ring and my face tingle and my breath and ability to breathe suck.  Twenty years later I have been an on and off again smoker ever since; smoking for a year and quitting for a year etc.  Few years ago for essentially the duration of a summer, I chewed tobacco.  What began as a kind of dare became as much of a habit as smoking - in fact it replaced it for a time.  As a twenty year smoker I will say about chew (or dip as it's called) that a good packed lippa ("lipper" for the healthy) will make one's head ring and vision vibrate like a non smoker puffing three Lucky Strikes back to back.  It is no joke as a narcotic and is as addicting as cigarettes. 

So it was with some kind of awe that I watched Johnny Damon last night grace the plate with three tins of what looked like Skoal Wintergreen Long Cut packed into his left cheek.  I turned to my viewing companion and said "that's like cutting to the dugout and showing Ortiz lighting a Marlboro".  Whatever changes being a Yankee has brought to Damon's lifestyle, he is now officially a recreational drug addict.  The amount of chaw he had in his grill last night was insane for a noob chewer.  Stranger still, none of his teamates chew.  Even his swing looks goofy and I'll tell you why; he is high as a kite.  Maybe higher.   Watch for our former happy #### to turn slowly but surely surly in his grey pinstripes.  They drove him drug.

Speaking of drugs, Bonds didn't get his 714th homer.

And oh yeah, we lost to the Yankees.  But I have no hard words for our team; Schilling was pitching a fine game and had struck out Jeter and Giambi back to back before giving up a few too many good hits.  We can't attribute this loss to any one play or any one person but I still felt revulsion watching teh Yankee "fans" cheer Mussina (who also pitched a gem) - it is the virtual definition of fair weather praise.  If I have any one complaint as a loser today, it's that we tend to roll the dice with middle relief bringing in guys from Pawtucket who have only played a single major league game to save us from our greatest foes (and busts the spell we had on Damon breaking his 0-10 vs the Sox).  Also Gonzales and Willie Harris both batting in the same lineup seems like it leaves us a batter shy.  Still, it doesn't compare to the Yankees ironic acquisition of Mike Meyers just to put Ortiz on base.   There was joy in the dugout and Giangi's two run homer and  Jeter greeted himi at the plate - if you could lipread you'd have seen him say "nice work son!  We're get  to eat  tonight!"  We might have lost the game but at least we're not crucifying one of our own today to appease Jobu like the Yanks did yesterday with that lanky weasel from Arizona.  Today the NY press is praising A-rod but if I were him I wouldn't take it too seriously - a rerun tonight of Mondays performance will have him crucified tomorrow.

May 9, 2006  - Yankees Vs. Boston @ Yankee Stadium - Yankees  3  Boston 14 

What began as a stadium jam packed full of fans of the Bronx Bombers ended almost quietly in a virtually crowdless stadium Tuesday night as the Boston Red Sox put  a hurtin' on the New York Yankees that they won't soon forget.  It was to Sox fans what an all you can eat buffet is after your cousins lame wedding.  It was larger and deeper and more delicious than one could have imagined; the umping was pretty close to awful, the Yanks were clearly rattled, Torre scowled for three hours straight, A-rod was clumsy, Foulke delivered the most amazing coincidence of a pitch which struck  Bubba Crosby in the exact same spot Trot Nixon was hit by Ron Villone minutes earlier, Papi slide in safely at home plate, ALEX GONZALEZ hit his first homer with the Sox and Bernie Williams got bounced and came within an inch of setting off a powder keg by hitting said lame ump with his batting helmet. 

Things looked good for the Yankees in the bottom of the first with Giambi's two run homer but it was too early to get comfortable and they never would.  Alex Rodriguez tried making sweet love to a line drive in the top of the third inning to kick off the unspooling of Yankee control.  A wild pitch and a chugging train ride to home plate left them ahead after only one inning and the Sox never looked back.  Mike Lowell's sweet little free handed #### to close out the third inning was his way of showing A-rod how third base is handled.  Unimpressed, Rodriguez would do his impression of a curb a few innings later for his second error of the game, just to spite him. 

The mojo play of the game can be credited to the Yankee fans themselves - arguably the worst bunch of scum and fair weather patronage imaginable - as they booed Big Unit was he walked from the field.  Booed him loudly.  Just moments before the big lanky 42 year old who had appeared so visibly shaken for the better part of the first three innings looked moist eyed on the mound.  I thought he was going to cry as the scowling pitching coach and entourage came to him to take the ball away.  When he slunk off the field his head dipped a little lower as "people" screamed their disapproval.  I turned to my viewing companions then and said "can you remember us booing one of our own off the field?"  They couldn't.  Yankees fans are the worst part of the whole organization.  Well, you brake it, you bought it.  Boo him off the field all you like - he's yours and I'm sure he didn't just learn that you only like him when he wins.  Tell you what Yank fans, we'll trade your busted Unit for our broken Boomer. 

The umping was questionable - pitches were strikes or balls depending on who was at the plate.  Both Jeter and Bernie Williams had words for the ump; the later ejected and a quick pan to the ump showed him red faced and ready to explode.  Manny homered - everyone gets a taste of the action - who could believe Alex Gonzalez's three run homer?  Nobody that's who.  The young un's were rotated in before it was over it seemed only Jeter and Varitek remained on the field as representatives of their original line-ups.  By the end, the same baseball lovin' Yankee fans who booed Johnson from the stage left to go home early and beat the traffic and complain to one another.  Rem Dog joked at the end that "if you live within a few blocks and want to see half an inning we've got plenty of seats."  They sure did.  Plenty.  

Tonight, game two of this three game series we have the mojo; the edge.  Mussina faces not just the prospect of giving us game two, but of getting the coldest reception a professional sport fanbase has to offer.

Tonight the Sox open up a three game series with the Yankees at the home of the evil empire, Yankee Stadium.  The sky has grown dark with clouds that threaten rain.  The sun doesn't dare shine.  It never shines on Yankee Stadium.  The home and stadium of our nemesis team is dark and poorly lit like a dentist waiting room.  The joyless robot crowd will surely wear their darkest windbreakers and fleeces.  The air will be damp and cold and full with the foul sounds of thousands of people booing and hissing.  Damon will not smile at the plate.  Nor will Jeter.  Or Matsui.  Or A-rod.  In the home dugout Joe Torre will glare on menacingly, his eyes two bits of coal over dark greasy bags.  The hate is there; seething beneath the skin of Yankee fans who do not love David Ortiz , in the hearts of those who went into debt for tickets to Game 7 of the 2004 ALCS and in the dashed hopes of those who still hate Johnny Damon even though he is one of theirs.  Both teams come to the matchup pumped from a short string of wins and a clean sweep will leave the either team out in front in the American League East.  Sundown is coming and with it the darkness. 

There is only one weapon in the face of darkness of this kind.  Fortunately, we have it:

"Asked if he would consider himself better than Ruth if he vaults ahead of the New York Yankees legend for second place on the all-time home run list, Bonds said: "I don't know yet, but the numbers speak for themselves." "  Actually what he said is "the numbers clearly speak for - no wait don't' write that.  Scratch clearly."  Yeah.  If the steroid issue wasn't a dark enough cloud over things, it's about to become a footnote in the history books as Bary Bonds is, in lieu of an act of God, pass Babe Ruth to vault into second place for the record for most home runs lifetime.  Unfortunately, nobody will EVER be able to regard this record without it's little blemish; the on and off again admittance on Bond's own behalf to having taken steroids.  Ah steroids; tremendous biceps, tiny reproductive farm and rage rage rage.  Bonds has said some sketchy things this past year with regard to his record, the use of said substances and the census demographic of Mark McGuire.  You can bet your sweet apple pie that if and when his record is ever broken by someone who has not formerly admitted to using performance enhancing substances that we will cheer twice as loud as they will in the next few weeks for him, regardless of that persons demographic.  Personally I can't recognize his accomplishment; there should be a category for him all his own - he can share it with the recovery poster child Jason Giambi.

Mikemike Lowell.  Nuff nuff said.  Sox swept Baltimore this last weekend to a chorus of hits and fantastic defensive plays and even Tek got a grand slam.  Kevin Millar got a standing ovation (no major surprise there) but it would get no better for him as he and his teammates dinned on defeat in the enemy locker room post game.  We have today to snooze and warm our bats in the sun before heading into the black abyss of Yankee Stadium Wednesday for a three game shnooker with the Bronx Bombers.

Someone else hit a grand slam this weekend if I recall correctly... should be a heck of a three game stretch.  Lets find it leaving us three games above the Skanks.

Edit:  When I was about ten I was listening to a radio program with my Sox fanatic uncle Ron, and a caller called in to answer a question for a prize, the question "who holds the record for the most homeruns" and the caller got it wrong.  My uncle tsk'ed and look at me.  "You know who that is don't you?" he said "Hank Aaron" I fired back.  I knew then but didn't know this morning some 25 years later.  I blame the drugs not that I ever took any.  Get it?!

May 4, 2006  - Toronto Vs. Boston @ Fenway - Boston 7  Toronto  4

The grass was sun warm and the field was washed in gold sunset as Manny strode out alone to left field.  "It has to happen once a year" Rem Dog said "Manny heading out alone to take his position in the outfield".  He waves to the crowd smiling.  Then the remainder of his posse all in red and white came from the home dugout to take their places.  Why would Manny head out alone to left field before his teammates?  I'll tell you why.  For luck.  His team wasn't in the dugout saying "what's he doing out there?" they were waiting for him to like it was a ritual.  Like a kid waits to blow out candles on a birthday cake; like a pack of elephant seals waiting for the alpha male to give the all clear.  I'm not sure about that last one. 

Clement gets his win and manages to keep Toronto to 1 run before he is retired but it was our bats and a ####in' jump in the bottom of the first that carried us to sweet victory like crab apple blooms on the may breeze.  Mike Lowell's first double of the night was the single greatest display of precise batting I've seen all year, until he did it again a half hour later.  Varitek is 9 games deep into a hitting streak and Wili Mo and Nixon are 5 games.  Youk smacks a 2 run homer up onto the wall and even Alex Gonzalez managed to get on base with a hit before it was over.   In the end, Pap got his wish (the night before he'd said "I hope tomorrow night we're up by 1 in the last inning and they hand me the ball") except we were up by three.  That didn't stop Jobu from putting us all on our feet with 2 outs as Toronto brought the tying run to the plate.  Pap puts two strikes on him and then the whole team descends on the mound.  If you are a lipreader you could see Francona telling Pap "Listen if this guy hits a home run it's going to destroy your ERA.  It'll be a hit and three runs against you.  One pitch."  But Pap just kept saying "I can do it I can do it - trust me."  They trusted him.  He did it. 

Tonight Kevin Millar returns to Fenway for the first time since swinging for the Orioles.  How will his reception compare to Johnny Damon's?  I suspect the crowd will cheer him but Jobu isn't really interested in my su####ions.  The weather today will be the same though and it will be another perfect night for baseball.

There has to be a saying that means "it sucks to lose but it sucks ten times as much to lose when you almost came back to win" but I dont' know what that saying is. 

The spirit of Jobu put Dustin Mohr on first base.  Then shoved him to third.  Why?  For a joke.  Because Jobu is not kind or merciful.  Oh we were all ready to lose by the 2nd out, I had only ten minutes earlier said to my viewing companion "Pap has to lose sometime - I want to see him lose and get back on his feet" but what Jobu heard was "I want to see him lose."  We could blame the drizzle, but not Mo Pena.  We could blame our bats but not our gloves.   We played really good baseball but not great.  To me as a viewer we seem to dig deep and fight and carve out every run from stone and we no sooner do than our oppositions floats the lead into the stands.  They were dirty but we were dirtier.  Dustin Mohr made a tremendous catch and I might have been able to credit him with the win but nooooooooooo.  Meanwhile south a few thousand miles, the Yanks breezed through Tampa Bay and are putting the finishing touches on decimating what was a great jump out of the gate on Bostons behalf.

Tonights game will come at the end of a long and unseasonably warm day.  No more drizzle, no breathing big gulps of steam and Timlin can leave his hunting thermal at home.  Can our superstar closer become a real boy or did this blow come to him across his achiles heel?  We'll find out.  Or you will anyway because I'm not watching these losers anymore.

Just kidding.  Oh Jobu you ####.  Tonight I will watch with a little umbrella drink in my hand just to spite you.  My spirit hand that is.

Hey it's better to send the Yanks home damp from a one nights stand than it is to get a stick in the eye.

Will the rain keep us from helping Toronto learn the definition of 'home court advantage'?  Can I call Fenway a court?  HA I just did!

Depending on who you hear tell it, the fans either boo'd Damon or cheered him.  I watched and heard a lot of booing, but when he tipped his hat I heard a lot of cheering.  And as he turned and held his hat high the crowd before him smiled - people clasped their hands at their breasts and stared.  Sure there was the old #### with the elaborate sweatshirt with Damon wearing horns, the handmade posters people carted in (my favorite "YOU REALLY ARE AN ####") - but I think some were just awed of the situation; here he was the mighty Samson himself, or rather his evil twin, standing in center field.  As a fan of the game and the Sox I personally grinned like a fool for it.  But Johnny popped out his first at bat and that set the tone for his performance - he was largely window dressing.

Oh so many great plays.  Youk and Lowell caught amazing line drives as did Cano.  The wind stole home run after home run - including one from Pena.   It turned pop flies into doubles.  Cora's flawless bunt.  The tremendous double catching Jeter overextended at 2nd base.  Wakefield was in top form with Mirabelli at the plate; Mirabelli who was changed into his uniform on the way from the airport and was rushed in like a political figurehead or rock-star to make the game.  Loretta's game winning single on a nutmeg up the center and Ortiz's wrath-of-God-defying home run and there was the greatest - the larger-than-life-moment:  Papelbon warming up in the bullpen turns neatly and plants his foot to catch Ortiz's homer (arguably the farthest driven ball in play he's caught in quite a while) and he turns to the bullpen camera as if to say "Hi America!  I'm Jon Papelbon!" before heaving the ball into the crowd.  It was mythology come to life as Ortiz hands the game to Papelbon for a textbook close.  Too good to be true except it was true.  The greatest matchup the game has to offer made even sweeter.

I think tonight's game will be rained out and we will send the Yanks home damp from our one night stand.  If not, I can't wait to see Beckett on the mound against the Bronx bombers.

Meanwhile across town, the Cincinnati Reds (!!) are 18-8.  That's huge.

Once upon a time, the first day of May was recognized as a holiday; May Day.  Traditional American custom had you hanging baskets of flowers on your neighbors door in the early hours of pre dark morning for them to find.  Somewhere I hope someone is hanging a wig on Johnny Damon's trailer door. 

Coming into tonight, the first official game of the year, the Yanks have the edge.  Hot from beating Toronto 2 out of 3 this weekend and keeping them so largely scoreless, they have the juice.  However, Johnny Damon's return to Fenway is the #### pin in this mother.   Depending on which affiliate you listen in on, he will either be cheered or hissed at.  This means little, people will be excited to see him on the field regardless of religious preference. 

Wakefield has a nice knuckle-ball, but little else.  That the Boston bats have let him down is not something he is going to be able to forget for more than say 7 seconds at a whack.  The Yankees won't forget it for even that long.  Sure we were able to whip up a little magic Saturday and take back the win from Tampa Bay with a startling ninth inning, but we couldn't do it yesterday and frankly we'd never have to if we could bring our bats back to life.  We're creating a phantom army of men left on base, and we're easily haunted.

Final score tonight, Yankees 5, Sox 2.  The Yanks will jump out of the gate big, but we'll stop the blood loss, it just won't be fast enough.  Gonzales will hit a completely forgettable 2 run homer, his only friend after the game will be Mo Pena.  But Jeter won't smile, A-rod will look like his suppository is starting to melt for 3 hours straight, and tomorrow with Beckett on the mound, we'll beat them 9-1.