Iceberg, dead ahead

Why lie? Minnesota no longer counts. Hell, we can beat on those Twins like a Chuck Wepner kewpee doll. When we take the field in Minnesota, it's like George W. Bush suddenly appearing at a GOP Convention: they lose all hope. But it doesn't matter. It. Just. Doesn't. Matter. 

We've hit the shipping lanes. We don't need to paddle anymore. We've got the AL East/Wild Card race safe and secure. It's time for the Juggalos gathering, time to rent the box set of Breaking Bad, and to wait for Labor Day, or Godot, or a job, or whatever it is good Americans are supposed to wait for. No... wait... I just remembered: The next Redsock series.

Ten games away and counting. Then, we hit Fenway again. (Why does it seem every Redsock series this year has been at Fenway?) It's easy to overstate the obvious - spoiler alert - nothing matters but the playoffs. But listen:

I cannot remember going this far into a season and being this owned by Boston.

Actually, I can: The late 1980s, when Boston always went to playoffs, and we Lenn Sakata'ed our way into last place. That's how far back it's been (that is, in my muddled memory; to honor the current GOP Presidential race, I no longer will buttress any argument with facts) since we've been so manhandled by the Redsocks that it hurts just to see their logo approaching.

Losing to Boston has hit Critical Mass. Especially for CC. We must send the message that somebody, anybody, on our staff can shut them down, that somebody, anybody, can hit Wakefield, Beckett, Aceves, etc. 

Ten days, folks. Until then, why lie? The standings are a fraud. We may be leading the league - but only farcically. We're a joke. If we can't beat the Redsocks, we might as well paint our faces and go Juggalo. A Faygo shower, anyone?