Tonight marks the 200th post in the history of Sedition In Red Sox Nation. Truly, it was a fitting occasion with Roger Clemens pitching against Josh Beckett in Yankee Stadium on national television. With an atmosphere like that, you just had to know that something verging on the miraculous would take place. And it did. No matter what Red Sox fans will believe, it wasn't a humdrum miracle, like the team losing to the Yankees for the second time in two days.

I don't mean something as trivial as Clemens taking a no hit bid into the sixth. With four walks and a hit bats-person (I'm not convinced that Pedroia is a man), a little bit of the bloom slides off that particular lily. And even though the David Ortiz upper deck shot to the shallowest part of the yard which ended the no-hitter and provided a fit foil to set against the Reggie Jackson three homer performance in Game 6 of the 77 World Series celebrated in the finale of the Bronx is Burning, that was not the miracle.

The miracle came in that very same inning, when there was a man on base and the immortal JD Drew stood at the plate. Even though no one believed that the most disappointing $14 million man could hit an aging legend like Clemens with a man on base, Drew got a base hit. True, he didn't drive in the runner, but he took a step in a positive direction. After all, the Dr. Leo Marvin program in the cinematic tour de force What About Bob? was called baby steps, not giant adult strides.

This was an important base hit for JD. If he didn't get that hit, could you imagine how badly the Yankees own resident big ticket outfield disappointment would have shown up his former team over these two games? You might remember that guy, he used to play for the Sox, wear number 18 and go by the name of Johnny Damon. He might be dropping the ball as far as big picture production goes, but he now has a homer and 4 RBI against the team that wouldn't pay him $52 million over four years, but threw a $70 million chunk into procuring the "services" JD Drew until 2011. And the Yankees have managed to win 14 of the 16 games in which Damon has played in left field of late.

One thing should be abundantly clear following tonight's pitching performance. Josh Beckett should win the AL Cy Young, the NL Cy Young and whatever awards correspond to the Cy Young for AAA, AA, A and winter ball. And he probably would have salted away the corresponding pitching award for the Japanese league had he only allowed 11 hits tonight. Even that home run for A Rod should barely count against him, as it was a line shot to the opposite field and barely went out of the yard.

In fact, I think we ought to be fair to Beckett and go ahead and chalk this one up as a win anyway. After all, the Yankees left 7 men on base, including six in scoring position against him tonight. And they only had 13 hits in 6 and 2/3 innings. That's almost as good as a shutout, at least in the mind of the average Red Sox fan. Just because he didn't win the game doesn't mean it should affect his statistics adversely.

There is a school of thought that a manager probably should have taken his starter out after 100 plus pitches over six innings and a dozen hits. Of course, some might think Francona is trying to rest his bullpen after that taxing series with the White Sox this past weekend and an off day on Monday. Then again, perhaps it is unfair to blame Francona for his decisions. He may have been bored into catatonia by this piece in which Dan Shaughnessy managed to miss the point to a degree I would not have believed possible, even for an epic misser of points like the CHB.

I think Francona might be dumb enough to think that Shaughnessy was right. But I think even a mind as sharp as Tito's could have been dulled by the impressive array of bad puns, bad jokes and bad logic that made up this farce of a column. One day, a courageous editor might want to whisper to Dan Shaughnessy that whatever he is with ceased to be it sometime in the waning days of Ty Cobb's career. Just because you are dimly aware of recent developments in popular culture like the Bronx is Burning and Superbad, doesn't mean you sound cool or clever when you try to throw them in to spice up a vanilla piece.

A more intelligent and perceptive writer might have drawn from a classic film like Patton, which features an excellent scene in which George C. Scott as the great general enumerates the myriad of woes besetting the German army right before they launch the offensive known to history as the Battle of the Bulge. The weather is terrible, the supplies and morale on the German side are virtually non-existent and on top of everything, the Germans had not mounted a major winter attack since the time of Frederick the Great (he ruled from 1740-1786, for those who aren't history buffs). For all those reasons, it looked like the Germans wouldn't attack, and it was for all those reasons Patton knew that attack was imminent. That would have really classed up a comparison between this Yankee team and the Red Sox in 2004.

Unfortunately, the Yankee bullpen was something of a cloud on this victory. Kyle Farnsworth reminded every one why he's been given so many chances for so many teams. He had the velocity that has kept him in the majors, and the inconsistency that has kept his bags packed. That two run homer Farnsworth surrendered to Youkilis really hurt. Thankfully, JD Drew was able to put a silver lining on that dark cloud by striking out feebly.

Unfortunately, I subscribe to the theory first advanced by Jerry Garcia, that every silver lining has a touch of grey. That touch of grey: Mariano Rivera got his second save of the series. It's always good to see Rivera pitch more like he did in his prime than he pitched at the beginning of the year. But the thing about that is, Rivera is not a young man any more. So there is not a very high likelihood of him being available should it get to that point in tomorrow night's game. Of course, Joba Chamberlain will be available tomorrow, and who knows what might happen. But it would have been nice to see the Yankees have a shot at a sweep and have all of their weapons ready to go against the hated enemy.

From the "there's a method to my madness" category, it might not have made for a well structured post with the two Drew criticisms sandwiched around the long Frederick the Great/Patton digression. In my defense, I hoped to mitigate the bad karma and reverse jinx potential I have bestowed on JD Drew. I remember that game where he hit two three run homers against the Diamondbacks not too long after one of my long diatribes against him. Nor have I forgotten the hot start to this season he put up after I spent the better part of the offseason railing against his signing, even though that seems like a more distant memory than the Prussian monarch I referenced tonight.

PS - I don't know if you recall the post in which JD Durbin was lampooned as tool of the week (back when there was a shot that I might actually have the discipline to post a tool of the week segment on a weekly basis). Since that time, the tool of the week segment has been modified to a tool of note segment. And more astonishing, the tool JD Durbin has pitched effectively for the Philadelphia Phillies. Kudos to Theo and the mental giants on Yawkey Way for letting him go for absolutely nothing. At least they managed to dream up Sox Appeal. Nothing like exploiting the inability of modern men and women to connect on an interpersonal level to perpetuate the subspecies of troglodytes who root for the Red Sox to undermine our societ. But I digress far to far, and I must sign off for the night.

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 brought good news and bad news to the loyal subjects of Red Sox Nation. The good news - Wily Mo Pena cleared waivers so he can be traded up until August 31st. I didn't expect a donnybrook involving all the teams that surely want a player of his caliber, but a mild scuffle should have been in the works, right? Which brings us to the bad news - Wily Mo still sucks.

Of course, as a resident of New England, it is my solemn duty to gloss over his abysmal performance since he joined the Red Sox by attributing said sucking to his overall lack of playing time. The prevailing theory there is Wily Mo would suck less if he played more and got into a groove. Of course this leads to a chicken vs. egg debate with more rational people who attribute Wily Mo's lack of playing time to the fact that he has shown no capacity to justify more ABs or starts because he sucks.

The trade that brought Wily Mo to our little corner of paradise has inherent value for the Red Sox organization, even if the on-field performance has been atrocious. It got Bronson Arroyo out of town. First, Arroyo had to go because I couldn't help but think of the Simpsons' episode where Homer, Marge, Lisa and Maggie end up in Bronson, Missouri on their way to Branson. I just didn't need to visualize a town full of people saying things like: "No, palie, this is Bronson, Missouri" in a Charles Bronson voice every time he took the mound or played a gig.

But the main reason Arroyo had to go is that he didn't know his place. He dared to outshine Theo at the Foundation to Be Named Later's Hot Stove Cool Music Festival. Granted common sense and rational thinking were never chief among Arroyo's virtues, but if you're a no-talent fraud with musical pretensions, and your boss is also a no-talent fraud with musical pretensions, the smart play is to let the guy who signs the checks rock the house. But what do I know?

To be fair to Theo, at least he wasn't the guy who signed Scott Pollard. It's always good to have a backup center who managed to play in only 21 games last year and is know more for his idiosyncrasies than his on the court play. But on the plus side, the Celtics are now dangerously close to having the number of players under contract required by the NBA. So they have that going for them, which is nice.

I haven't posted much about it, but I find myself hooked on episodes of The Bronx is Burning. And I'm not very pleased with myself for it. The show is good, or at the very least it's better than most of the sorry drivel that is on TV these days. But it's main problem is that it tries to set the turbulent Yankees season against the backdrop of Son of Sam, the big blackout, the 1977 NYC mayoral election, the general decline of American society and the inevitable collapse of a Red Sox team lacking pitching and moral character. That's just too much for a one hour show on once a week.

It got me thinking, though, what would happen if some producer thirty years from now were to do a similar show about the 2007 Red Sox who seem poised to vomit up their lead in the AL East as their predecessors did back in '77. Will we be asked to look back and laugh as Tom Warner very nearly made the last mistake of his life when he dressed in the Wally Suit to pull a prank on Larry Lucchino? Will the silly little debate on whether Youkilis was in fact faster than Dustin Pedroia seem even sillier? Will we be expected to burn with righteous indignation that no action was taken against the Mariner Moose when he made his cowardly and dastardly attempt to injure Coco Crisp? Or will we merely think how did we not see it coming?

I really don't have much to say about tonight's performance. I am not as impressed with Matsuzaka's epic pitching performance as I anticipate Red Sox Nation is at the moment. As I said last night, I am not sold on these Cleveland Indians. To put it bluntly, if I had to pitch to Grady Sizemore or Travis Hafner with the bases loaded and nobody out in the last inning of a game I absolutely had to win, let's just say I wouldn't be quaking in my cleats. Sure they put up good stats, but they don't strike fear into opponent's hearts.

Two years ago, the Indians entered the last week of the season with a shot at catching the Chicago White Sox or maybe the wildcard. And they choked. They fell apart as though it were their sole purpose in life. Signs point to that same outcome for them this season. This looks like the beginning of the end for them.

I finally caught an episode of The Bronx is Burning. I thought it was pretty good. I'm not sure I buy Oliver Platt as Steinbrenner, but other than that I thought it was well cast and well written. And like most of the things I see in the course of a day, it got me thinking about other things.

For instance, if they made a series like that about a Red Sox team from that general era, would it be subtitled: Please put Jim Rice in the Hall of Fame, he had two really good years? Or How I triumphed over an IQ well below my uniform number and became a regional icon because I was mildly developmentally disabled by Bill Lee? Or You guys do realize I played for 20 years after that home run in the 1975 World Series, right by Carlton Fisk? Of course they wouldn't make a series like that about those Red Sox teams because no one would watch it, but a nation can dream, can't it?

Another thing that occurred to me is that Reggie Jackson was a lot like Manny Ramirez back in the day. If only Reggie didn't talk to the press, he might have been Reggie being Reggie long before Manny started being Manny. I also noticed that one of the executive producers of the show is named Joe Davola. Could that be the same guy that inspired the Crazy Joe Davola character from Seinfeld?

This is something that needs further investigation by some enterprising soul more willing to do the research than I am tonight. Because if this Joe Davola is the Crazy Joe Davola from Seinfeld, then there must have been a deal in real life that was kiboshed as the fictitious deal was which triggered Davola's hostility to Jerry and Kramer. I can't help but wonder what that deal could have been. Of course, I also need to get out more, but what can you do?

Finally, I thought it was awfully sporting of Bob Ryan to warn us about the danger of an NBA official fixing games three days after the story broke. I can understand that he wasn't due to write a column between the day it broke and the one that appeared in today's paper. I also think it would have been better not to call said piece a warning. As far as I know, you warn somebody before an event occurs, not after. Then again, what do I know? I'm not in the Max Mercy Hall of Fame.

Oh, and I think I see a way clear for me to be nominated for President of Red Sox Nation. I took a quick look at the celebrity nominations page, and I think I might qualify. Excerpts from my blog have appeared in Worcester Magazine and several times in BostonNOW. That might not be a hell of a lot on which to hang my hat and I'm not bragging about it, but at least I've heard of me. And that's more than I can say for Rob Crawford, Dennis Drinkwater and Rick Swanson.