At Tuesday
night's game, I remarked to the Sox Blogette that it seemed Jason Varitek hadn’t
changed his at-bat music since at least 2003. Plate appearance after plate
appearance: “Kryptonite” by Three Doors Down.
Then, on the
very next night — I was lucky enough to attend twice in a row, thanks to the
largesse of Phoenix
staff editor extraordinaire Sean Kerrigan — I noticed that Tek had changed it
up. Remarkable!
I couldn’t
tell what the song was (and, truth be told, much like “Kryptonite,” I wasn’t
much of a fan) but I wondered to myself whether this sudden shift in affairs
might portend something big.
Lo and
behold.
When
Lowerie was gunned down at the plate in the bottom of the ninth — Vernon Wells having
exacted his revenge for the butter-fingered indignity
of the previous night — I grimaced.
Not so much for our failure to score,
although that was bad enough. But rather for the fact that I had to pee.
Really, really badly. I hadn’t had to go so bad since I was six or seven,
unwilling to leave the theater during Return
of the Jedi for fear of missing something good. I was in pain. I worried I
was doing permanent damage. I needed a walk-off win toute d’suite.
And then Tek
loped that single into center, just like Youk did last night. And then Manny booked
it plateward, just like Papi did last night. And then we went bananas, just
like we did last night.
And then I
went to the bathroom. And all was right with the world.
Matsuzaka has found his groove.
Ortiz has found his swing.
Papelbon has found his arm-slot (to first).
And we've found our way back to first where we belong.