...like fingernails to a chalk board...
...like the slip of your knife while slicing lemons...
...like the explosive burst of a midsummer's moth on your newly waxed windshield...
...chewing foil...a thorn in your sock...sand in your eye...a dead battery...that one driver who cannot figure out what to do when the light turns green...
josh beckett is all of this to me. all of this
and so much more.
yankees / red sox begins again tonight at fenway.
i hold no opinions, whatsoever, for it's outcome. no predictions. no forecasts.
i hold my breath.
if joba hurls one high and inside upon youk, all hell will break loose.
we know this.
if lester hauls off and drills our boy jorge in the shoulder, it will be considered unintentional, however.
thus...i theorize the one who will drill jorge in the shoulder will be javier lopez.
i theorize they'll go after jorge for obvious reasons. THAT, and he's the best producer, relatively speaking. THE MOST DAMAGE.
who would OUR target be? (insert appropriate explanation that bean-ball wars are offensive and immoral and the american league does not conduct itself like those heathen national league anti-heroes.)
our targer will most likely be jason bay.
it might be lowell due to his rbi contributions...
but bay is just open season.
mind you: i abhore HBPS. i hate them. i think they're more inhumane than being forced to watch jonathon papelbon exhale right before he stares down the batter while pursing his lips for 3 minutes.
but
this is the yankees v. boston.
this isn't necessarily emotion and intellect free baseball.
in conclusion...as i actually must show up at work today---
i've seen joba "lights-out," at fenway. i've seen lester melt within 2 innings. i've seen them ALL blow it...i've seen them all seemingly possessed by sandy koufax.
anything can and will happen.
but this ain't september.
if the red sox present with the same demeanor and skill that was displayed in anaheim...we will sweep them.
key to today's win for the yankees: lay low. fly under the radar. work lester's count and get to the bullpen.
ttfn. ~kat
