Look really closely at that image. Closer. Closer. See a little spec in one of those catwalks in the middle of this of this fucking awful 18 year old former hockey stadium? That's where Jason Bay hit his shot to begin the 7-run onslaught in the 4th inning that ended Scott Kazmir's terrible start, effectively ending the game and the Rays' divisional lead. Apparently the first of its C-Ring kind. (Nine years into Tropicana Field: The Baseball Years I still can't believe I'm talking about catwalks and baseball. This place and most of the thinking behind granting Tampa Bay a franchise into such a vacuum can suck a C-Ring (NSFW).)
Anyway. We're tied. Ladies and gentlemen, Sox and Rays we are unmoored from the chains of [#] GB, and are floating in space, respectively 12 and 14 games from season's end. Some say it doesn't much matter how this end and it just matters we prove we can beat up on Tampa wherever the game may be. I disagree. All I really want's a divisional crown to take the pain away.
Okay, right, I root for a team that has taken 2 of the last 4 World Series. Pain isn't really my power. All I really want's a divisional crown because I want a divisional crown and would rather let the Rays take their turn with the Angels first, damnit. The first round of the playoffs is the scariest one to survive, and the White Sox are the best possible matchup for the Red Sox in what would be a short, sharp shock of a series, while Rays-Angels seems like the definition of a 5-game series.
That and there's just something about pennants. There's no dishonor in taking the wild card, and we all know how far one can go off it, sometimes even for both Series opponents. But Wild Cards don't look right on a flag. You can't brag about second place as surely as you don't win friends with salad.
Beckett looked great last time out, and Sonnanstine is an old Irish term for "pushing one's luck. Grab that lead and let's start to hoist that rag, boys.
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