All I wanted was for the Red Sox to win the division. Just win the division, for fuck sake, the wild card comes from the Central and the Yankees stay home. That's all I wanted last year, and that's all I wanted this year. The Sox were in first place for most of the season, it shouldn't have been too much to ask. Win. The. Division.
Apparently Theo Epstein and Terry Francona wanted to make sure that didn't happen, because they did everything they could to prevent it. Apparently Theo and Tito want Red Sox fans to hate them. That job they're doing well.
What is she going on about, you ask? Don't ask. We're four games into a five-game series between the Yankees and the Red Sox, a weekend of monumental proportions, a make-or-break, do-or-die, cliche-laden, angst-ridden, stomach-churning series.
After the Yankees pounded the Sox on both ends of Friday's double-header, I thought it couldn't get much worse. Shows you what I know. That was only the beginning. Saturday's loss won the official Worst Game Of The Year award, but the distinction was short-lived. Last night's loss - with the Red Sox ahead early, then blowing a lead late, a loss so predictable a few million fans could have scripted it in advance, and no doubt did - quickly overtook it. I don't even want to watch today's game.
There was a now-infamous Yankees-Red Sox series in September 1978 known as The Boston Massacre. Since that name is already taken, what will they call this one?
I think it would be more fun to be a Royals fan. Just relax, watch games, and enjoy the season - winning never a concern because you know it's out of the question.