Knuckle Up.

Don't even stop to contemplate where the Red Sox would be without Tim Wakefield. (Okay, fine, here's my thought: 3rd place, but only because I think Clay Buchholz is actually ready.) Just be thankfully he's still around, and when he's been good, has been amazing. As Prospectus points out, this team is freakishly overperforming against its rotation. Three key reasons: generally excellent offense, best bullpen in the majors, and on those days no one is hitting, Tim Wakefield.



Sadly, all the headlines on the Worldwide Leader in Entertainment and sometimes Sports, and various other sites, were about that much younger man looking much older, Zombie David Ortiz. Swinging at bad junk in the dirt, missing Zombie B.J. Ryan's 86 mph fastball, mauling and decapitating Kevin Millar (then discovering to his disappointment no grey matter there, just some kind of Frito dip), the signs of decay and undeadness have not faded. Does Dave Magadan still work for the Red Sox? Are we really going to have to bullshit with Washington as they ask for Buchholz in exchange for Nick Johnson? Is Chuck LaMar the new shadow GM of the Nationals? Self-esteem or not, doesn't keeping Papi in the 3 slot put pressure on him he isn't exactly up for right now?



Sigh. Even after a nice win, I got me some questions. Youk's back, anyway. Keep him away from Ortiz during his feeding hours.

(Thanks to LOLJocks for the Ortiz as Fred Sanford pic.)

Enough.

Having been treated with civility for my nearly five years in New York City, whether I was wearing the navy cap or the red cap, I've just gotta repeat Deadspin's sentiments with even more feeling:

You motherfuckers need to stop.

This shit is wrong and it shames me almost as much as it should shame you.

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Sox lost last night in too familiar a fashion (grab small lead late, lose lead because of lack of set-up relief, lose game) to recount. Another good start by Wakefield, and another good start wasted. This team needs to limp into the All-Star break without losing much too more ground, because the last three series have served to undo a lot of good.

GAME SIXTY THREE: Landslide a-coming?

The Colorado Rockies 2.0 (the jerseys above are the Rockies 1.0) got a knuckle sandwich yesterday, in the kind of game the 2005 and 2006 Red Sox had next-to-no chance in: the low-scoring kind. It's getting harder to understand how last year's team contended as long as it did; 2005 isn't much more unimaginable. Remember Matt Clement, All-Star? Closer Curt Schilling? Jason Johnson's starts from last year? More power to you if you don't, so long as that's not a medical condition. Even Wakefield broke down in 2006.



Now? We've got six viable starters; much as I can't believe I'm calling Julian Tavarez a viable starter, it's true. Remember the almost-trade of Todd Helton for Mike Lowell (currently playing out of his mind) and Julian Tavarez (somewhat out of his mind, but easily soothed with some petting by Manny Ramirez)? Does that one still sound like a good idea? Theo's a good GM, but sometimes it's the inability to put a deal together (aka pure luck) that's served him best. Like this time. Or even more so, this one.



The other notable happening from yesterday was the wife beater dropping from lead-off to #9. Lugo seemed to take this one well, saying he was just happy not to be dropped to the #10 slot. (Not that the #10 slot's that bad...I once hit in the #10 slot in a high school baseball game where we had a DH and the pitcher hit. I had the only 4-hit game of my career.) Lugo also hit a big double to score the first run of the day, on a day runs were as scarce as this piece of cardboard. Pedroia just belongs in the leadoff slot for now. And don't call him Scrappy.



The Sox are .500 in their last ten, so as far as momentum goes, we're not exactly Juggernaut lately. But put it this way: if we go 54-55 for the rest of the season, a game below .500, we finish with 95 wins. A very reasonable 59-50, and that's 100. Let the Yankee fans navel gaze; they've got a good shot at the wild card. As for us, I get the feeling...



(Note: cover should not be taken literally. Do NOT shoot any Red Sox in the eye, even if they get fucked up on Everclear and ask you to. Most successful baseball players need both eyes.)

GAME THIRTY THREE: Celebrando.

So that's a cool diagram of how a knuckleball works.



That's the weird way it looks as the former minor league infielder throws it; lately, no one can hit the damn thing. (Three hits last night, no threats at all after the 1st inning, AL best ERA.)



That's the 1992 Rookie of the Year's rookie card. Feeling good about that waive, Pittsburgh?



That's how the Blue Jays are feeling right now. Don't cry, Sal Fasano. Your mustache is reason enough to live, for people who aren't even you.



That's the hottest hitter on the Red Sox (three straight games with a HR...I still believe in J.D. Drew, but I think it might be time to bat Lowell 5th, yo) and one reason why the Josh Beckett trade is working out after all.



Actually, the Red Sox may be doing even more Awesome than this picture. Consider the team ERA, the fact that this lineup could still click even better than this. (This is true even after a series in which we scored 26 runs including a game in which we lit up gunslinger [Roy] Doc Halliday.) We've played 7 games more on the road than at home. 7. Remember that number.



That's our lead in the AL East. We ain't halfway through May, people, and I'm already considering putting up our magic number.



That's how I'm feeling. Azucar!