Tonight looked ever so close to becoming a disaster. The Red Sox managed to mount a disconcerting ninth inning rally, closing a 5-2 deficit to 5-4 and having two runners in scoring position with 1 out in the ninth. It took all of the hidden talents of Jason Varitek and Julio Lugo to kill said rally before it could become a catastrophe.

It got me thinking, though, or more precisely, reminiscing about an event that occurred in Tropicana Field about two years ago now. Tonight, Brandon Moss hit what looked like it was going to be a routine fly ball, albeit one probably deep enough for Mike Lowell to tag and score from 3rd. But the strange configuration of Tropicana Field intervened. The ball hit the catwalk and landed in fair territory. Moss got a double, Lowell scored and Youkilis advanced to third on the play.

Two years ago, during a three game sweep of the Red Sox at the Trop, Kevin Youkilis hit a ball off the catwalk in left. There, the Red Sox were not quite so fortunate. Carl Crawford tracked the ball off the catwalk and caught it before it could hit the ground. Because of the ground rules, Youkilis was called out, causing him to throw a fit. Terry Francona at the time referred to it as "putt-putt golf stuff."

I remember this because I blogged about it at the time, back in the day when Sedition in Red Sox Nation used to blog about baseball from time to time. I ripped Youke and Francona for that at the time. I ripped them because it's beat to whine about something like that when it hurts your team but consider it one of the amusing little novelties of the game when it boosts your team.

Perhaps it is unfair of me to rip Varitek as a rally killer when he did manage to drive in a run with a sac fly in the ninth. That said, I have no real interest in being fair to Varitek, noted archdouche that he is. And had he gotten one of his base hits, which occur about as frequently as papal conclaves these days, he probably would have managed to tie the game. Of course, in order to do that, he would have to stop sucking and/or being a giant douche. And I'm not sure I'm believing in miracles this week.

Before I move on, I do need to rip into the Remdawg and his partner. After Troy Percival came up lame and had to leave the game, they were all excited at Francona's brilliance. Because Terry hadn't announced a pinch hitter to take Lugo's spot in the order, he didn't have to remove that offensive Juggernaut when JP Howell came in to finish the ninth. True, Lugo is a righty and Howell is a lefty, so conventional wisdom says that match up favors Lugo.

However, conventional wisdom would also tell you that Lugo sucks. Better to have any lefty up there than a guy who is a weak hitter to start with and is 0-3 (with one RBI, to be fair) in his career against Howell. I don't know why I'm complaining, after all Francona played the percentages right into a loss which put the team 1 and 1/2 games behind the Rays in the AL East.

Of course there is the possibility that MLB might be looking to overturn the result of the game and award the win to the Red Sox. After all, Papelbon was warming in the pen when the game ended in case the Red Sox managed to take the lead in the top of the ninth. And we all know that Papelbon is the greatest closer of all time, and would have shut the door on the Rays. So by the transitive property, even though the failed to score the amount of runs necessary to win the game outright, the Sox still won, at least by Red Sox fan logic.

This was not a very good week in Sedition in Red Sox Nation land. I think, at this point, that I just might be out of things to say about Notre Dame. Maybe I might have something to throw out there if they ever manage to win a game, but that isn't looking very likely at the moment. Who knows what Navy is capable of after the last 40 years of losing to the Irish? And Duke is looking tremendously better than they have in living memory.

It is true that the last two weeks have seen some improvement. They seem to be moving closer to victory, but that's not the way things are supposed to be. That's not the way things are supposed to be at all. It was supposed to be a thing of beauty. Even if they manage to beat BC, it's still depressing. BC is supposed to be the spoiler of seasons, not Notre Dame.

And then for the first time since 1995, the Boston Red Sox have won the AL East. The Yankees twelve year reign of terror is over. If I were a Red Sox fan, however, I wonder just how optimistic I'd be as the playoffs open. In one way of looking at this matter, the Red Sox are rolling into the playoffs tied with the Indians for the best record in Major League Baseball. But that's only part of the story.

The Red Sox finished the season 42-30 against the AL East. The Yankees ended up at 39-33 in the division. There could be some small cause for concern there. After all, I'm sure Red Sox fans remember that the Yankees took the season series 10-8. That means the Sox won five more games against the Blue Jays, Orioles and Devil Rays than the Yankees did.

I hope Sox fans will forgive me for going the long way around to make this point, but the rest of the AL East wasn't particularly good this season. Toronto did finish two games over .500, which really surprised me. I haven't paid much attention to them, even when they play the Red Sox. But the Orioles finished twelve games under .500, and the Devil Rays ended the year two games behind them.

I said all that to say this - managing to beat these teams more than the Yankees did isn't a tremendously encouraging sign going forward. Last I looked, none of these teams are going to be playing in this postseason. The competition facing the Red Sox as they chase that World Series trophy is going to be slightly more formidable.

The Red Sox did win the season series against the Indians and the Angels. But it seemed that their victories against the Angels came early in the season and then later on the Angels got the better of the Sox. One wonders just how much this matters when the division series starts. I wish it weren't the case, but the Angels and the Indians scare me. And not in the good way. The matchups seems all wrong to me. I can't stand either team, so it will be a lot harder to root for them than it would be to root for the Yankees.

The last time the Red Sox and Angels met in the playoffs was in 2004, and the Sox swept them in the ALDS. I know that's all in the past now, but I don't see the Angels winning this one, to tell the truth. I know all about his stats and his talent, but something about Vlad Guerrero doesn't inspire confidence in me. Their running game could pose problems for Varitek whose arm isn't really all that good. But that hinges on them getting on base, and I'm not entirely sure that they will do it consistently.

Should the Red Sox win and the Indians prevail, I won't much enjoy the ALCS. Until guys like Travis Hafner and Grady Sizemore show me that they can produce in pressure situations, I won't be too optimistic about their chances. Obviously it's kind of hard to build a postseason resume when your team hasn't gotten into the playoff. But I don't remember them burning it up two years ago when they chased the White Sox down the stretch.

Of course the Yankees might be a more formidable opponent, and I'd love to see them beat the Red Sox because it will vex Red Sox fans much more than any other team taking an ALCS from them. Should the Red Sox fall to the Angels, that would be interesting, since they have had a nasty habit of beating the Yankees in playoff series lately. But I'm not too worried about that since, as I've said, I'm not holding out hope for an Angel win.

In unrelated matters, Donovan McNabb really showed me how wrong I was when I ripped him last week. He really took over tonight's game against the Giants, right? Getting sacked 12 times showed that his knee is completely healed, that he is the answer for the Eagles and the best QB of all time. Of course the dozen sacks weren't all his fault. Obviously the line sucked, and the coaches might have wanted to think about taking a different approach to blocking that guy who got six sacks by himself somewhere between sack two and sack six, but that's just me. But you can't tell me that McNabb couldn't have thrown it away two or three of those plays, can you?

Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight saw two unpleasant events unfold. First, the Red Sox beat the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, which sadly was not entirely unexpected. The next... there was a meet and greet for the losers running for president of Red Sox Nation. My shadow candidacy was not acknowledged, even though I am a much better candidate than any of the tools who showed up tonight.

I hate to be the one to break this story, but the whole event is a farce. Hazel Mae was the host of the event, and she's one of the candidates. Can you imagine the furor if Mitt Romney hosted a forum for the candidates running for President during the three year ordeal that is the campaign for the Oval office? We all know he couldn't under the law stipulating equal time for each candidate, and we all know that this campaign for president of Red Sox Nation is a lark as opposed to a serious undertaking. But the illusion of propriety would be nice.

Of course, none of this really matters, as this election is already over. No matter who gets the most votes, the Remdawg will be inaugurated. It's not outside the realm of probability that he could win this thing anyway, what with the people being mesmerized by his unique charm, which calls to mind some sort of hideous cross between Lennie Small and George Milton from Of Mice and Men.

With the increasingly disturbing rhetoric coming from the booth during NESN telecasts, I get the sense that Remy is preparing to step in and put an end to this farce saying that he has to become the Remdicator for the good of the Nation. He was complaining the other day that these candidates have their forum while he's on the road with the team. He keeps bringing up his own laundry list of what the new president of Red Sox Nation should do. And I get the feeling that no one among them, not even a man of Peter Gammons' eminence could do any of the duties of RSN president anywhere near as well as Remy, just ask him.

I have a big problem with this. Not just because I don't like Remy, I prefer him to the arrogant sycophant, Bill Simmons, and some of the other celebrity candidates. I would like to see RSN elect a loser like Rob Crawford whose smash hit I'm a Member of Red Sox Nation could very well make him the biggest tool of all time. I mean really, just because he likes the Sox and you like the Sox doesn't mean you won't regret the hell out of blaring the song when the novelty fades. I never thought I'd say this, but he makes Terry Cashman's song about the Cardinals sound like Tchaikovsky. Rob Crawford could probably do more damage to the image of Red Sox Nation across the country than I could, and that's one of my chief hobbies.

Then there's Dennis Drinkwater. Not being a fan of WEEI and the damn Whiner Line, I'd never heard of him until a friend did a Google search to see who the tool behind home plate during every home game was. Obviously he deserves to be president of RSN. I would be interested to know how many votes he gets and where the votes come from. It would be quite a laugh if he got fewer votes than he has employees.

Of course, as I've mentioned, I don't trust this process. Who is responsible for vote counting? If they're going to conduct this farce, then they owe it to us who must suffer through it to do it with a tiny bit of decorum. They ought to have an impartial outside arbitrator count up the votes so that we all know that this giant waste of time was a professionally conducted giant waste of time. After all, we don't want any situation wherein the newly inaugurated president of Red Sox Nation could suffer from a perceived lack of mandate.

Anyway, tonight, I eased the pain of being ignored in the candidates' forum by going to see Superbad. It was shockingly funny. I expected some lowbrow humor, and I wasn't disappointed. There isn't much in this world funnier than seeing a fat kid get a baseball bat whipped off his back while he runs away from the police and an angry old man. But I have come to expect long stretches where the lowbrow humor gets old and there isn't much for the movie to go on (like Talladega Nights, or Borat, or Dodge Ball), but Superbad didn't have any low points. I highly recommend it.

This just might be my final post. For all the times I've been wrong, and the few times I've been spectacularly wrong, I have never been quite so wrong as I was on July 1st. On that fateful day, I mentioned how discouraging it should be for Red Sox fans that their $146 million ass-kicking machine of a baseball team had to that point managed to come from behind in their final at bat to win only once all season. Now I am eating my words, as they did it for the second time.

Unconfirmed rumors from the Tigers clubhouse placed manager Jim Leyland on the floor of his office, in the fetal position, chain-smoking and weeping when he heard the news tonight. That World Series trophy is as good as won for the Olde Towne Team as we speak. And that's why I have to shut this blog down for good, because this team has the perfect combination of tired arms and overpaid frauds who dream of hitting .250. Nothing I say can slow them down now.

Of course, there are naysayers who might point out that the two comebacks occurred against Baltimore and Tampa Bay, currently in next-to-last and last place respectively in the AL East standings. There are even some crypto-fascist reactionary types who might think that a team whose 3 and 4 hitters have not yet managed to equal the home run total put up by Alex Rodriguez could have a small problem when it comes time to face a more daunting bullpen than that of the Devil Rays. But I am no longer one of those guys.

Terry Francona changed all that. Never in all my born days could I have conceived of a move as brilliant as pinch-hitting JD Drew in the 7th so that the .248 hitter could ground into a double play. Not since C. Montgomery Burns pinch hit Homer Simpson for Darryl Strawberry with the bases loaded and two out so that a right handed batter could face the left handed pitcher (even though Straw was 9-9 with 9 home runs) against the Shellbyville team has a manager been so committed to playing the percentages. Hell, if all he wanted were a double play ball, who better than Wily Mo?

But the real key that emerged from this game...they finally know how to use Eric Gagne. He pitched a scoreless 9th because there was no real pressure on him. It would have been very difficult, indeed, for him to get the loss tonight. So no wonder he didn't choke. As long as the Sox can pitch him in situations where he can't make things worse, he'll be awesome.

And the Sox got a game back, thanks to the Yankees being mauled by the Orioles on the day that saw the passing of Hall of Fame shortstop Phil Rizzuto. I hate to say this, but all day, whenever I saw it on a news ticker or Sportscenter, the only thing that kept popping into my head connected with Rizzuto was George's key chain with Phil's head saying "Holy Cow" when it was squeezed. I know. I am a horrible human being. But at least I admit it.

And in other depressing news, it seems that the Patriots are going to try to play Adalius Thomas at inside linebacker and move Mike Vrabel back to his natural position of outside linebacker. Leaving aside the issue of whether one can still be said to have a natural position when one has lost a step or two or thirteen, I must confess this depresses me.

I was looking forward to ripping the Pats when Thomas' production from his contract year didn't follow him to New England. Now they have a ready made excuse. Of course he can't get double digit sacks, he's playing a different position in a different scheme. It should have very little to do with the fact that now Mr. Thomas has the financial freedom that he doesn't have to think twice about getting extra cheese on his Whopper.

Tonight also served up yet another disappointing episode of The Bronx Is Burning. I understand that it's based on a book (a book which I never read, in the interest of full disclosure), but I'm still bent that the show has so many different strands going at the same time. I want to see more about the Yankees in 1977 (more scenes of them beating the Red Sox would have been greatly appreciated).

If I wanted to watch a documentary of how Ed Koch got to be the Mayor of NYC, I'd find a way to do that. Or check into the psych ward, whichever comes first. And maybe it's because I am not a New Yorker or a particularly morbid person, but I really have no interest in Son of Sam stories. Quite frankly, I don't see how the election of Ed Koch or that tool shooting innocent people had any bearing on the baseball season.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe if Bella Abzug had won the mayoral election, the Yankees wouldn't have caught the Orioles and the Red Sox. Maybe if Mario Cuomo had won, Kansas City would have held on to the lead at home in that fifth and final game of the ALCS. Maybe if Son of Sam had murdered one fewer person, the New York Rangers would have surprised the hell out of the civilized world and made the World Series in a stunning turn of events.

ESPN is a sports network, is it not? It's not the everything about everything about life network, and sometimes they'd do well to remember that over at the World Wide Leader.

Today was a banner day for New England sports fans. Most importantly, the Red Sox basically increased their lead over the Yankees, even though it won't show in the standings. So Steve Phillips and the Mike and Mike crew have jumped the gun by scheduling their discussion of whether or not it's time to press the panic button in Red Sox Nation for tomorrow morning. Tim Wakefield went eight innings and Paps closed it out in the 9th. Meanwhile the Yankees overcame a Rivera blown save to win in the home half of the 9th. For all intents and purposes, the lead might as well be back up to ten, maybe twelve games.

While it may be an impressive feat to hold any given 9 men who are paid to hit a baseball without a hit for 6 solid innings, let's not forget that the Tampa Bay Devil Rays are not exactly the 1927 Yankees. It's true that getting BJ Upton to end the game when you're up by three and there isn't a soul on base is the basic equivalent of fanning Ruth and Gehrig with the bases loaded.

Unfortunately, it doesn't change the fact that they just dropped 2 of 3 to the Orioles. Nor does it change the fact that Eric Gagne looks a lot more like a mistake now than he did when the CHB mushed him with this puff piece. One can only hope said article brings the same magic to KG that it has to the Sox to this point.

The real triumph came in the form of an Esquire magazine piece naming Tom Brady the best dressed man in the world. Call me old fashioned, but who gives a damn? What exactly is the methodology that produces lists like this? Was any consideration given to the day when he was photographed looking like an unmade bed and rocking a Yankees hat? I must confess that I was a little disappointed that they included the pope on the list. Not so much that His Holiness didn't top the list, but it seemed like they were making fun of him a bit. Benedict XVI wears the same papal vestments that Popes have worn for quite some time, right?

Of course, I only bring up this monumental achievement of Brady's to express the hope that this small victory and the fact that the team won the offseason will keep Patriots fans warm when Randy Moss and Stallworth come up short, the thin secondary gets thinner and the inside linebackers get their AARP cards. Of course, I was also the guy who spent much of the spring angry at the amount of hype given to the Lance Briggs holdout while one hardly dared whisper about the Asante Samuel contract situation. So what do I know?

Among the several things I know at the moment: Lance Briggs has since signed with the Bears. Asante Samuel has yet to sign with the Patriots. For me, it's fascinating to watch this situation unfold. Samuel is looking for a massive deal like the one Nate Clements signed with San Francisco, and I can't say I blame him. Why not shoot for the stars? The team certainly seems to need him, since Chad Scott went down for the year in the first week of camp, and defensive back was not a strong point from jump street.

But the team has a valid point, as well. Samuel has 16 career INTs, but he picked up 10 of them last season in his contract year. While ten interceptions is, in the grand scheme of things, a very productive season for an NFL defensive back, one must still temper one's desire to throw bags of money at a guy who broke out in a contract season. One also must temper one's admiration of a ten interception season when 3 of those picks came during Rex Grossman's inexplicable effort to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory on the brand new field turf in Foxboro last November.

Too often, cornerbacks in the NFL have shown flashes of brilliance only to burn teams who sign them to big contracts down the road. However, the Patriots do not have much depth in the secondary. Rodney Harrison is a year older, and his injury history is not encouraging. The rookie from Miami needs to show he can behave like a human being in the event of a fight. Eugene Wilson in adequate, maybe. Chad Scott was old, now he's on the shelf. Randal Gay probably grew up tough as hell because of his last name, but hasn't proved himself over the course of an entire season to the point where he deserves to be the number one cornerback on a contender.

I guess what really bothered me was that the Bears were ripped for not signing a linebacker when their linebacking corps was still in good hands. Urlacher is Urlacher, the overplayed vitamin water ads notwithstanding, and Hillenmeyer is quite good. Jay Mariotti even went so far as to suggest that the Bears should have dealt Briggs to the Redskins for their number one pick and then used said pick to draft Ted Ginn Jr. (in case you're wondering, I will be tracking Ginn's performance as one more way to show my solidarity with the anti-Jay movement).

Of course, Belichick will work some magic, and maybe our old friend Vladimir Putin can get another crack at a Patriots Super Bowl ring. So none of this will have mattered.

I want to end tonight with the first random thing I hate in quite some time. Tonight, it's Carrie Underwood. The other day, I happened to be listening to Mike FM, the station with no DJs and totally random music. They happened to play Carrie Underwood's Before He Cheats. That song bothers me because of the line: "right now, he's probably buying her some fruity little drink cause she can't shoot whiskey."

Every time I've heard that song, I ended up going back over the list of things I look for in a woman. And wouldn't you know, the ability to shoot whiskey just isn't there. Maybe I'm crazy, but what the hell do I want to spend time with a woman who drinks like I do? So I can share a his and hers moment where we both exit through the screen door without actually opening the damn screen?

The sad thing is, there are people in this world who do think that a woman who shoots whiskey is an ideal mate. I could only imagine the horrified looks on my parents' faces if I were to bring such a woman home. I wonder how the introductions would work: "Whiskey-drinking Annie, I'd like you to meet my mother and father."

I have to say that it might be refreshing to go to a wedding and not worry about whether I would be the biggest drunk there, unless of course it were my wedding and the other contestant just happened to be the bride. That would, indeed, be a sad day in my world.

I would like to be a guest at that wedding, though. Especially if I got to sit in the back row and make bets with other guests as to whether the bride or the groom would make the biggest drunken spectacle of him or herself. Imagine that, offering odds or setting up a system of squares to see who passed out first, or who fell into the cake, or who threw the first punch at whom?

Plus, to get back to the song, based on my experience, a woman who shoots whiskey is very likely going to be cheated on at some point in her life. The women I know who knock back a shooter or ten tend not to be at the top of the aesthetic spectrum. They tend to lack polish, sophistication, and, to be frank, manners. So the song becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. You warn a guy not to cheat when you're doing something that might drive him to cheat... It seems like you might have missed a step somewhere down the line.

It was good that the Red Sox didn't have to play a game today. That way they had plenty of down time to wrestle with the fact that Scott Kazmir seems to be able to humiliate them at will. And they don't have to think too hard about the back-to-back home runs the invincible closer allowed to the lowly Devil Rays on Saturday.

It also enables me to talk about Danny Ainge and the no good, terrible, horrible, very bad trade rumors circulating about the Celtics. Perhaps some kind soul in contact with the brains that run Banner 17 can tell them they could save money by not even having a general manager. If Paul Pierce is running this team, why pay Ainge?

Admittedly, I don't think he should be paid a salary at all, based on his performance to date. But the Cs could cut some fat from the payroll at his expense, nevertheless. And it looks like they just might need that cash to pay Garnett, Pierce and Allen to play for the brand new contender in the Eastern Conference.

If this deal goes through, it will bother me on a number of levels. First, it will generate enough interest and ticket sales to preserve the current reign of terror for at least one more season. All the Whos here in Whoville will like Kevin Garnett a lot, at first. By the time the fans grasp the significance of this deal in the long term, he'll probably have moved on or retired. But the team will make some dough for a month, a year or two.

Another reason it will bother me is that the current management team will have changed horses in midstream once again. When they took over, the team was aging too fast, they said. Its window was closing, so they slammed it shut. So the team got younger and then younger and still younger. The losses mounted, but the region was told that this process takes time. But of course, the affront against the sport that was last season alerted the powers that be that the wheels had come of the youth movement.

So the natural move is to send all of your young players to teams in the Western Conference and import players of a certain age and experience. Because we all know that basketball players get better with age. Running up and down a wooden floor at top speed for 30-40 minutes a night strengthens joints, right? It doesn't wear on cartilage, ligaments and tendons, does it?

Sticking with Bird, McHale and Parrish for as long as the Cs did put the team in jail in the mid 90s. I know why they did it, and I stuck with the team because those three guys gave the team everything they had. Yeah, they won titles, but the Bird and McHale killed the last few productive seasons they may have had by playing hurt. Granted, Len Bias and Reggie Lewis dying tragically didn't help and the team should have drafted better players than Lohaus, Michael Smith and the rest but life is often cruel.

This time, the team went out and imported guys who may have a few good seasons left in them, but could also fall apart in an awful hurry. But this is smart basketball, right? It's not like Red Auerbach kept his teams going through blending young players in with his aging stars, right?

But this trade will really bother me because the Celtics have now reverted back to being essentially what they were when Ainge blew up the team in the first place. They have more star power, but they're older and probably (I don't have the time or desire to do the math myself, so if I'm wrong on this I'll apologize) even further over the cap than they were. Four years of this nonsense and we're back to square one.

With Allen, Garnett and Pierce, this team should contend in the East. It's not very likely that they could beat one of the better Western Conference teams in a seven game series, however. When Ainge made his moves to get rid of Walker, Delk and the rest, his rationale was that contending in the conference wasn't enough. The Celtics needed to contend for the NBA championship.

As you may have noticed, the Celtics have come no closer to contending for an NBA championship in the Ainge era than I have to travelling through time. But now that the team may have collected three stars who might be reaching the point of no return in their careers but have not managed to show any signs of pushing a team to the next level, every little thing will be just fine.

On the plus side, since this is the NBA, it's likely that this trade will help neither team in the long run. The Celitcs now have a 3 man rotation in a five man sport. Rondo doesn't look like he's the answer, unless the question is: "The Celtics gave up a pick that could have been Randy Foye or Brandon Roy to draft whom?" Kendrick Perkins could be this generation's Stanley Roberts only without the potential. But there's always Leon Powe. And I think Oliwikandi is still on the roster...

But the Timberwolves could get Al Jefferson at the absolute apex of his value. Too bad he's destined to be the best player on a bad team for the rest of his career. I suppose that there's a chance that he could progress into a 20 point a night guy since there's no one else to score in Minnesota now. But I just don't see him making that team anything but a blip on the radar in the West.

With any luck, Gerald Green will be gone as well. He can play above the rim, provided that he's in a dunk contest. Too bad that he's looking like the second coming of Kenny "Sky" Walker. If only he had more skills that translated into effective play on the court, maybe Cs fans would miss him. As for Sebastian Telfair, at least Fabulus can sleep nights knowing that Bassy's 1200 miles away now.

But Cs fans, take comfort in the fact that Tony Allen will be coming back. At least until the next time he gets fouled 25 feet from the basket.

I really don't like posting twice in one day, but I just couldn't get the post I wanted to finish last night done until the middle of the day today. These things happen. I thought about waiting until tomorrow to post again, but I decided I ought to go ahead and write this while the subject was still fresh in my mind.

After watching ESPN baseball coverage last night and tonight, with apologies to Charles Dickens, it was the best of quality starts and the worst of quality starts. The best - Curt Schilling overpowering the mighty Texas Rangers. The worst - Carl Pavano squeaking past the lowly Twins. The Yankees are in bad trouble this year.

When you look at the stat line alone, Schilling would seem to have an edge because he allowed only one run over his seven innings of work. Pavano also went seven against the Twins tonight, allowing two runs in the process. Pavano only struck out two batters, but he didn't walk anybody. Schilling struck out six, walked only one and allowed only four hits. It was indeed one for the ages and much, much, much better than Pavano's effort.

After all, it's not like Curt Schilling allowed a home run to an overrated bum like Frank Catalanato. Oh, wait... Minnesota had to manufacture one run against Carl Pavano with a single and stolen base by Tori Hunter and then a base hit to drive him in. Then Morneau doubled and two batters later, Hunter drove him in with another double. Both balls were well hit, very well hit. But Pavano recovered, got out of the inning and got a big win.

Before any Red Sox fan decides to remind me that the Rangers play in a notorious hitters park, think for a second and see if you can't remember the nickname for the MetroDome. Before you sprain something from the unaccustomed mental effort, it's the Homer Dome. I am aware that the Twins aren't built to hit home runs the way the Yankees can, but can you really make the claim that the Rangers can hit with the Sox?

To this point in the season, I think Pavano has been more impressive than Schilling. It is true that the Devil Rays produced several runs against Pavano on Opening Day in the Bronx. But the Devil Rays offense is considerably better than the Royals who put a man-sized beating on Curt Schilling in Kaufmann Stadium. I will have more to say on the Devil Rays later this week, because they're going to be a team to watch this season.

While Texas has some big names like Michael Young, Hank "Yes, my production declined at a strangely suspicious time" Blaylock, Mark Teixeira and The Man Who Once Was Sammy Sosa, they have fallen into a rut as a team. They put up decent offensive numbers, but as the guy I go to for my Red Sox fan's perspective said to me today, the Rangers look great on paper without ever bringing that to the field when it matters.

Minnesota, on the other hand, has a very good team. They're a small market team, and they can't throw money around the way the Sox and the Yanks do. But they compete year in and year out. Santana is probably the best pitcher in the AL, but they also have the reigning MVP in Morneau and the reigning batting champ in Mauer. Holding them to two runs after a shaky start on Opening Day is an important confidence builder for Pavano.

Carl Pavano now stands 17 wins away from the 18 I predicted for him before the season started. I realize that it's only two starts in, he's only won four games in pinstripes in a little over two seasons, he has bad karma hanging over his head from lying to the team about his injury last year and he has a hell of a long way to go to earn his teammates' trust once more. He took a step in the right direction today, and he better take 17 more steps like that because I really want to be right for the first time in a while.

As for other baseball matters, or at least matters peripherally connected to baseball, I have yet another problem with Bill Simmons. In his running diary on Daisuke Matsuzaka's first start, there was a very disturbing subplot. He reacted to the excessive grundle grabbing exhibited by Julio Lugo with an enthusiasm that was slightly less than decent. I leave you to make of that what you will.

But if I were the kind of writer given to bestowing movie quotes as awards, like the Sports Guy, I'd have to go to the cinematic tour de force Planes, Trains and Automobiles to the scene where Del Griffith (John Candy, in what might be his best role) takes Neil Page (Steve Martin) to task for his grundle grabbing. The purveyor of shower curtain rings hits him with this epithet: "Larry Bird doesn't do as much ball handling in an entire night as you do in an hour."

If I were the kind of person who tampers with perfection, I might be inclined to update that quote now that Bird has been retired for well over a decade. But I'll let it stand, because it has a Boston connection and there's no one on the Celtics that's worth elevating by connecting him to that film. That quote will also serve as my memorial to the golden age of John Hughes movies, since he lost his fastball after Uncle Buck.

On a completely unrelated note, at the risk of bringing my unique brand of insensitivity to an issue that should be handled with the utmost sensitivity, I have to laugh at MSNBC and CBS for handling the Don Imus situation with neither courage nor balls. If they don't have the courage to kill the golden goose (the coveted demographic that makes up his audience has considerable buying power, after all) and fire him for his incredibly stupid insensitive remarks on the Rutgers women's basketball team, they at least could have had the balls not to weasel out of the situation with a slap on the wrist.

I don't know what is the right way to handle this situation, I only know it's not a slap on the wrist suspension. Without going to the lengths that the South Park episode that dealt with Kramer's career suicide went to make the same point, there is no way that I could, as a white guy, understand how comments like Imus and his guest made resonate in the black community. I do know that CBS and MSNBC can't be all things to all people in this situation. They should have either fired him or stood by him. I think this suspension insults us all by trying to offend no one.

After tonight's unfortunate 9th inning, I find myself with very little to say on the finale of the series with the Red Sox. I do not find myself feeling humbled after my earlier statements, what with the fact that the lowly D-Rays did manage to take 3 of 4 from the mighty Red Sox. Perhaps the Red Sox might have a bit more difficulty with the teams they face from here on out than they did with the NL East.

Two things caught my eye in my reading before bed, which is what prompted this unprecedented third post in one day.

First, was this gem from the NY Times. It has absolutely nothing to do with the Red Sox, baseball or sports in general. But I thought it was worth reading. If I were the husband described in this piece, I would be more than a little upset that this made it into the "paper of record," but that's just me. As a disclaimer, I should note that I am single, so I have no idea what it takes to make a marriage work. I do know from a series of failed interpersonal relationships what makes one go tragically wrong, and sometimes spectacularly wrong. I just think this guy is a loser. Also I wonder how this particular piece fits into the "all the news that's fit to print" mentality of the Grey Lady.

Then there's the Letters to the Editor page of today's Globe. I really don't know how this particular letter, from some tool in Wellesley made the cut to be published by a major metropolitan newspaper. So the guy saw a monarch butterfly on a growth of milkweed in Yawkey Station. And his communion with the natural world set a nice counterpoint to the harsh, apathetic crowd of Red Sox fans who were ignorant of a mystery of life unfolding in their midst. Ordinarily, I am in favor of any avenue to criticize Red Sox Nation, but the world is a big a complex place, not every one has the time to look at butterflies. Nor is it some red badge of courage to point out that you have the sensibilities to appreciate both baseball and a butterfly.

I really don't like posting twice on the same day. It provides yet one more conformation that I have no life. When I saw that LeBron had yet to agree on the extension with Cleveland I just had to get something up on that topic. I'm also sorry that I didn't provide many links for my wild speculations. It was just something that occurred to me, and I thought I should run with it. I think I might just be the first guy to get anything on the possibility (albeit a very slim one at best) that LeBron could one day wear a Celtics uniform.

This post has been in the works since last night, and now that we've put basketball aside for the moment, I can return to attacking the Red Sox for an evening (which is, after all, the stated purpose of this site). This has been quite a series down in Tampa. The local nine have dropped three straight to the lowly Devil Rays. Bob Ryan says it's too early to panic, and he's right. But it still has to hurt a bit, especially when someone like me throws a little salt in the wound.

The Devil Rays may be better than you think. Weird things can happen in the course of a long season like the catch Crawford made against Youkilis last night. But the Red Sox were red hot, winning 15 of 16 before they came to Tampa. They had, prior to this series, lost 4 of their last 6 in Tampa. But the Devil Rays are a last place team. Unless of course they win tonight and the Orioles lose to the White Sox (or as they'll be called on this site henceforth, the Real Sox).

The Sox seemed like they had good reason to feel optimistic entering this series, with Josh Beckett starting the first game and Schilling starting game 2. I bet no one would have thought that the last line of defense against a Tampa Bay sweep would be Tim Wakefield. Of course, no one expected that the mighty Red Sox lineup would be 2 hit by Scott Kazmir. Or that Big Schill would allow 3 home runs. But these things happen.

As for Big Schill himself, I'm still waiting for his response to Mitch Williams. I hate to link to the androidsdungeon so soon after the whole Dr. Who episode, but it was the first place where I found the reference to Mitch Williams calling Schilling out. Quite literally. After the blown save that blew the 1993 World Series, Wild Thing took issue with comments Big Schill made. According to him, Big Schill had best borrow some guts and meet the Wild Thing outside. I am not commenting on the truth of this story, necessarily. I like to take things like this with a grain of salt. I just bring it up to be a thorn in the side of Red Sox fans. And, lest we forget, they say a charge not answered is a charge believed. For what that's worth...

Carl Crawford quite literally stole the show last night. It's not every day that you see a guy steal home. In fact, it hasn't happened to the Sox since 2000. It was such big news, it even made it into a nice little featurette in the KC Star, where Crawford revealed that no one had pitched from the windup with him on 3rd base until Schilling did it 2 nights ago. Then Jason Johnson, he of the notorious ability to lose games, did it. The rest, as they say, is history.

Then there was the wacky play where Crawford caught a ball that Kevin Youkilis hit off a catwalk in the outfield (see the bottom of this piece for "keen" analysis). The Greek God of Walks screamed bloody murder that he should not have been called out. Unfortunately, according to the ground rules, he was out. Francona called it "putt-putt golf stuff" and said it had no place in baseball. I disagree. Crawford made one hell of a play on that ball. To break back and catch a ball fading away from you after it hit a catwalk is worthy of an out.

And for all you Red Sox fans, before you agree with Francona and lobby for rules changes in Tampa, ask yourself whether or not you'd agree with Carl Crawford being called out had it been him at the plate and Manny Ramirez made a catch like that in left field. From time to time, a little intellectual honesty is good for the soul (for those few Red Sox fans that have one). I doubt you'd rally for justice had the shoe been on the other foot.

Meanwhile, I address my parting shot at Kevin Youkilis. In a somewhat ironic gesture, he threw a tantrum at the call. Without the field being miked, it seems that he may have done a bit more to get himself ejected than Jorge Cantu did, but that's neither here nor there. Of late at Fenway, Youke has been coming to bat to the dulcet and underplayed tones of "Jump Around" by House of Pain. And, work with me here Red Sox fans (I'll try to use simple words and write slowly, lest you think too hard and sprain something), here's where we reach the ironic part.

In the intricately composed opus with which Youkilis gets himself in the hitting zone, there is this line: "I ain't goin' out like no punk b----." In my way of thinking that is ironic, since that is exactly how he went out after that call.

About an hour ago, it looked like this was going to be a very melancholy post this evening. I could take a Red Sox win in extra innings, and maybe I could take Dallas beating Miami big. I wasn't sure that I could take both on the same day.

And then, things went far better than I could plan. Julian Tavarez melted down like only he can. Without any Devil Rays in the immediate vicinity for him to punch without provocation, Tavarez let up a walk-off grand slam in the bottom of the twelfth. Just like that, it went from a 1 run lead, two outs away from a series opening win to a 5-2 morale crushing defeat. Good times.

I was much more pleased with the end of the Miami game. I am sure blogMaverick will contain a laundry list of reasons why the Mavericks should still be shooting free throws right now. Unfortunately, no one else has the rose colored contacts Mark Cuban wears to each game. The horribly cruel and capricious system of officiating has conspired to delay the just reward for Cuban's investment again.

What is even better is that the law of averages struck again. When you make 90% of your free throws, you miss 10% of the time. Too bad for Dirk that his miss had to come when his team trailed by 1 with 3.4 seconds to play. Then he went down and fould Dwyane Wade a bit harder than the situation probably required. Of course Wade committed at least 3 separate lane violations and 4 variations of loose ball fouls on the play in Mark Cuban's mind.

I don't like Dirk. I have hated him since he came into the league, and I'm sure I'll still hate him when he slinks back to Germany without winning a title, God willing. I must confess, I am mildly xenophobic. I hate the French and I hate Germans, other than that I don't have any specific dislikes where foreigners are concerned.

I hate Germans because they made David Hasslehoff an international singing sensation. Baywatch was inspired TV and Knight Rider sort of didn't suck at times, but Hasselhoff is a total cheese ball and a terrible singer. And yet German people love him. And Dirk has said that he sings "Lookin' for Freedom" to himself when he stands at the foul line. A tool of that magnitude deserves to fail in pressure situations.

What can I say about the Red Sox in the last few days? It was nice to see them struggle so mightily against the Devil Rays Scott Kasimir (probably misspelled his name, but who cares?). Then there was last night's media circus for the return of Doug Mirabelli. Imagine if he'd been a .300 hitter or an every day player?

It was a big coup for America's Prom Date. I wonder how much it cost the city, and will John Henry reimburse the tax payers?

Of course, Johnny Damon returned to the Fenway for the first time, and was lustily booed. A lot has been made of whether or not this was justified, since he did contribute so much to the team in his tenure with the Red Sox. Personally, I don't think the fans owed him any more than he owed them. I do, however, wonder if there might be more than the casual fan (or the die hard who drinks 30 beers in the stands) perceives to this situation.

Could the dramatic attention paid to the return of a very average role player have been a smoke screen on the part of America's Prom Date? Could he have his own covert reasons for trying to distract the fans from Johnny Damon's first appearance in Fenway as a Yankee?

I couldn't help but notice that Damon, who I was told thrived in hostile environs as a member of the Red Sox, may as well have left his bat in the dugout when he went to the plate for all the good it did him and his team. He also played the field as though he'd never set foot in the stadium before. I don't know whether he'd have caught the Ortiz homer if he'd have been better positioned or took a better line to the ball, but at least it might have been easier to watch the ESPN shows today if he had.

Then there was the fly ball that Jeter overran. It was somewhat amusing to see Manny, whose defensive inconsistencies have been beaten to death by this point, helping Wily Mo Pena track down fly balls in center field. It was somewhat surprising to see Damon, who had enjoyed a reputation as a solid defender (except for the fact that he throws abysmally), found himself out of position at times and was less than helpful to his teammates. I imagine one could attempt to explain this by bringing up the fact that Jeter is a Gold Glove winner. He is also a veteran of many games in Fenway, whereas Wily Mo is brand new to the team, the stadium and a natural right fielder.

I don't mean to insinuate that he was part of some deep seeded conspiracy with America's Prom Date and John Henry (who would have some nickname based on his bizarre Howard Hughes like obsession with neatness on his yacht if I had the time to think of one). Actually, I do mean to insinuate that, but I mean it jokingly. He had a bad game. I imagine he was nervous coming back to Fenway, and the boos and money thrown in his direction rattled him just a little bit. I seriously doubt that Theo, Damon and JH are a new Trilateral Commission. Among the three of them, they don't seem to possess the intellectual capacity or the moral turpitude.

Every once in a great while, I find myself sharing something with the citizens of Red Sox Nation. This past offseason, it was a profound sense of disappointment that Johnny Damon was leaving town. I believed (and still do) that he was old and injured. I don't think he'll be the same player he once was. I really wanted the Red Sox to overpay for him. And then the Yankees got into the picture. I was not pleased.

I am not a Yankees fan, but I don't think they're the Evil Empire either. As a native Bostonian, I never liked New York teams, but because I hate the Red Sox and the vocal, oppressive contingent among their fans, I found myself warming up to the Yankees. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as the old saying goes.

I also found it slightly hypocritical of Larry Lucchino to come out and call the Yankees the Evil Empire after they out-overpaid (not a word, I know, but sometimes flagrant abuse of syntax is required to remind Red Sox fans of recent unpleasantness) for Jose Contreras. Lest we forget that the Red Sox booked every room in the hotel where Contreras was staying to try to corner the market on him.

The Red Sox aren't exactly the Twins or the Pirates, after all. They spend as freely as their means allow, like the Yankees do. The real issue between the two teams is that Big Stein has a bigger stadium and better infrastructure for raising revenue from his team. And if you don't believe me, watch the bidding war that will develop over Clemens if the opportunity arises.

That is just one of the reasons I hate the Red Sox and the majority of their fans. They sit there and swallow the organization's hypocrisy as though it were their job. Like all hypocrites everywhere, I hate little more than I hate hypocrisy. I think the blanket generalizations and wild allegations I have made against the Sox in the short history of this blog are ample evidence of this. Nor do I anticipate that I will stop such behavior. But I admit that I am a hypocrite, which makes me less hypocritical than. At least that's what I tell myself.

Since I lost whatever narrative thread was supposed to tie this post together, I think it's time to sign off. But before I go, I think it's good to go out on a more positive note. I was watching the TNT Basketball Half Time Show tonight during the Chicago-Miami game, and I heard one of the best lines Charles Barkely has ever delivered.

Kenny Smith was wearing a velour suit with some kind of rhinestone trim. And whenever he moved in his seat, the things would bump into the desk and make noise. During one of Barkley's monologues, he was distracted by that noise. So Sir Charles turned to him and hit him with the line: "Where did you get that suit? Toys R Us?"

I thought it was quite funny. I also enjoyed the follow up: "What did you buy it at TJ Max?" And I think he hit the mark when he complained of some of the fouls called on Shaq by saying: "After all, this isn't the WNBA."

Good night and go Blue Jays.