Red of Surviving Grady has the optimism going today. I just don't feel like writing about what I saw, except to maybe say that if Paul Byrd was going to pitch like that if he came into Game 2 in the 5th inning (or even the 11th), I apologize sincerely to Terry Francona for doubting him. (And just wish we had David Aardsma on the roster instead of Dave Ross.)
Lester wasn't bad, just off. Just one awful inning.
Garza wasn't great, but no one hit. If shallow pop flies to center were home runs, David Ortiz would be having the greatest postseason ever.
It's 9:54 in the fucking morning and just talking about this makes me want a drink.
Are you ready to catch Wakefield fever? (Symptoms include a constant movement in the stomach/bowels similar to the movement on the knuckleball, sharp stabbing pains hit deep to left, and anal bleeding. Better call 1-800 54-GIANT.)
No comments:
Post a Comment