If I ever see Trey Wingo in the middle of my baseball game again, my head may just spontaneously explode.
And it's not even his fault.
It started out as such a good night too. ESPN was showing the opener of the Orioles series. I had made pie.( I'll just occasionally do that .) Hot subs had been ordered. Life was good.
Even having our B-Team lineup, lead off by Alex Cora (!) (more on that later) could not faze me.
Than the weather gods decided to intervene. As did Sutcliffe and O'Brien, who were intent on continously mentionining the 5-inning official game rule. Over and over and over again.
Which wasn't so bad. Until Boomer decided to give up two homers in the same inning. Along with our offense spontaneously and simultaneously wilting.
Now step inside my head. And hear the ticking clock.
Top of the fifth. Raining pretty hard now. Maternal Entity answers the phone.Cabrera, who had given up his only run on 3 walks and a wild pitch earlier, seems to be calming down. Until he gives up a single to Papi. Then a double to Trotter. 2 outs. Men on 2nd and 3rd. Sox down 2-1. Buckethead, who has looked horrible tonight, up to the plate. He's quickly down 0-2, but battles back, throws Cabrera off his rhythm, to the tune of a 3-2 count. Cabrera sets.
AND THE SCREEN GOES BLACK.
AS IN NO BASEBALL.
A SINCERE LACK
And Trey Wingo calmly comes on my screen, telling me about technical difficulties.
Which doesn't really get through, because I am screeching my fool head off. Beating the heck out of the couch pillows. And yelling at poor Trey Wingo, "BRING BACK MY BASEBALL NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW!" For 7 solid minutes. (I think I traumatized the cat.)
When they finally switch to the NESN feed, it is the bottom of the 5th. And they will. not. tell. me. WHY.
Although in retrospect, I might have been better off not knowing. Because while Buckethead, saints be praised, worked a walk, the inning ended on Trotter getting picked off second .
No, not Millar picked off first. Trotter. Picked off second.
Yeah, I know.
Which unfortunately turned out to be the deciding play of the game, though he did his best to redeem himself with a nice catch in the next frame. The Trotter giveth, the Trotter taketh away.
And to switch from Bible to T.S. Eliot, this game ended not with a bang but with a whimper, delayed in the seventh, finally called a half-hour later. Orioles 3 Sox 1.
But I can deal. We just win the next three, 'kay?
-Good-bye Jay-Bird. And 'Quez. We hardly knew ye. I will miss your highlights, 'Quez.
-I wonder if Matty and Alex Cora have met in the clubhouse yet, and Cora's like, "Hey, about that whole '18 pitch-2-run-homer AB...thing', we're cool right?", and Matty's like, "Yeah.", but it brings back bad memories and Tek has to give him a hug and a cookie.
-Hello, Mr. Stern. Though you are without your first major league hit, getting your first ML stolen base makes a very good impression.
-I'm torn between being glad that what's physically wrong with Foulkie is getting fixed, and being mightily pissed off that something was not done about it before now.
-Schilling, Relief Ace?
(More on that later.)
What a long strange week it's been. At least I have Fantastic Four to look forward to on Saturday.
Yes. It's true.
Forced to choose between Wade Miller and Ioan Gruffudd, poor Wade will be banished to the bullpen. ( Or really just the VCR.)
(Sometimes one just needs to be very, very girly.)