Damn. We lost last night. You get a sense that, for the last week, we have been less concerned with winning games than watching out-takes on "Entourage." After all, September doesn't count. Nobody gets a ring for beating Baltimore. Come three weeks, we'll be knighted or crucified for whatever goes down. This crapola in LA? Forget it, Jake, it's Chinatown.
Damn. We lost last night. So did Boston. Big difference though: They lost to Tampa, reducing their wild card lead to 5-1/2 games with six games yet to play against the Rays. Moreover, we have seven against Tampa, and three against Boston. Ten games to screw around with, and watch out-takes from "Entourage."
Can you say, "Tonight's starter against Tampa... Scott Proctor!"
If we get far enough ahead, we can control the wild card race the way a hooker finesses her customer's orgasm. We can play with our food. We can play this race like Charlie Daniels plays the fiddle... if we win now.
Damn, these recent losses suck. We can salt away the pennant, then phone in against Tampa Brandon Laird and the flood plain evacuees from Wilkes Barre. When Boston comes to town, we've got the A-team.
Bad sportsmanship? Listen: They would do it to us in a heartbeat. Since February, the baseball world has celebrated Boston's greatness. Everyone adores how they outsmarted us last winter. Could you imagine a Mets-like crumble, a Coughlin collapse... in Boston? They would burn the city. They would truly be the '27 Redsocks!
Damn it, we gotta win some West Coast games. This is no time to ease up.
That comes later -- mwha-hahahahaaha.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
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