i admit it. last night, the game stunk. i mean, seriously, y’all. i don’t know what it was, but there was a bad vibe in the air. the crowd was eerily silent other than ambient quiet chitchat noise through at least the second or third inning. in the third, aliens froze time for a moment, long enough to scoop up jon garland and replace him with a substandard facsimile. and someone screwed up the memo to the dugout that said “please let’s not strand runners on base,” by leaving out the word “not.” and on top of that, it was so frigging cold that the beer guys were not running around with “CO-OLD BEE-EAH!” but instead with styrofoam cups of hot chocolate (16 oz, $2.75). i spent most of the second half like many of those around me, curled up into as tiny a heat-conserving blob as i could make myself, and sighing unhappily (and texting other friend-fans) about the game.
i got disgusted enough with the doom-and-gloominess that at paulie’s second at-bat (or so) i hollered “LET’S GO PAUUUUUUUUUULIIIIIIIIIIIIIE” as loud as i could (despite how embarassing it was to be the only fishwife in right field), which as those who have watched baseball with me can testify is (a) loud and (b) heartfelt. i like paulie. (i also just really like saying “paulie,” because for some reason i always say it like i’m from new jersey. i have no idea why. PAUUUUUUUUUWWWWWLIIIIE!) a few other fans followed suit. nonetheless, it was an eerily quiet night. the only times the fans really got excited were when booing maggs (who really, seriously, dude, needs a frigging haircut), our too-few homers, or when they were doing one of those stupid games on the jumbotron like “which connie’s pizza can outrun the others.” (NEWSFLASH, SOX FANS: pizzas don’t run, no matter how anthropomorphic. sheesh.) maybe it’s just that things haven’t been the same without nancy playing organ for night games, but … i think the fans are done for the season. that was sad. i will say this about detroit: their fans were very well mannered. also, they were approximately ten billion times less jackassy than the yankees fans in the house during that last series. i’d invite a liger fan into my house over a damn yankees fan any day. (though, really, that doesn’t take much effort to guess, i suppose.) anyways, this article — Let’s say it’s won, done for Sox (CST) is ostensibly about giving up hope. let me save you the read: it enumerates all the reasons we are fantastic, complains about how the twins and detroit aren’t as awesome as us, then mourns the fact that we’re not in first place and throws its metaphorical hat on the floor and stomps on it in sulky disgust, in which we Constant Readers are presumably supposed to join it. but actually, reading the article … it was a bit of a reminder of all the reasons why i love my guys. because we are awesome. okay, there’s no denying that we have been frustratingly inconsistent since shortly before the all-star break, and the starting pitching has only been something to write home about if you were writing from the lunatic asylum where you were working out your bipolar disorder. there’ve been errors, ten thousand stranded runners, bad calls by base coaches, and failed attempts to steal bases. but there’s also been a hell of a lot of really good work done. and you know, sometimes life really does suck and you work hard and do really well but your 95% still earns you a B because some other kid in the class screwed up the curve. doesn’t mean you’re somehow suddenly terrible. just means you that someone else did a little better. besides, even if the worst comes to pass — you know what, coming in third in what was the roughest division in baseball this season, after fighting until the bitter end, is still not exactly chopped liver. no, i won’t be happy if we miss out on the postseason. we are really good, and of course i want to repeat. and if we don’t, it’ll be sad, and i’ll be cranky, and then i’ll have to listen to five months of peanut gallery snarking before i can obsess over spring training next march. (and fyi, twins fans of my acquaintance, don’t even think that i’ll find it amusing to be teased, because i really won’t.) but still, i mean, damn, my guys are good. look at their record. it sucks that we’re not in first place but we still kick ass, and i will brook no dissent.
