Apparently, the hair dye works, but it just has a gradual onset.

Curt Schilling sat behind the mic in his post-game press conference looking a little like Draco Malfoy. Apparently, he subscribes to the Kevin Millar school of beauty: when the going gets tough, the tough get makeovers!

He sure looked ugly to start.

Top of the first: A double to left. A sacrifice to first. A run-scoring single. Two strikeouts.

Top of the second: A ground-out. A double to left. A run-scoring single. A ground-out to a fielder's choice. A triple to deep center. A double to left. A double to right. A ground-out to short.

Seven hits, five runs. Stitched leather flying around Fenway like Mass Millions lotto balls. Shoot me now.

But then, suddenly, it was like a different guy out there.

The third? An easy 1-2-3. (Strikeout, two ground-outs.)

The fourth? Two harmless singles, sandwiched between a pop-out, a ground-out, and a fly-out.

The fifth? 1-2-3 again. (Strikeout, two fly-outs.)

The sixth? A walk, a fielder's choice, a pop-out, a fly-out.

Schilling walked off the mound after six having settled down considerably. Amazingly. And he gave us a chance to win. Which is exactly what we did.

Scott Kazmir was uncharacteristically ineffective against a team he usually owns, surrendering two runs in the third (Edgar Renteria doubled to drive home Bill Mueller and Tony Graffanino) and two in the fourth (Trot Nixon grounded to short to score Jason Varitek; Bill Mueller sacrificed to center to score Kevin Millar) to cut that five-run lead to one.

Relief was good enough. Mike Myers gave up a double in the seventh that Chad Bradford then allowed to score, but Manny Delcarmen and Mike Timlin pitched a scoreless inning each.

Their holding of the proverbial line allowed us to do what we do best: score runs.

In the eighth, Johnny Damon, whose injured finger is apparently much better than we'd feared, pinch-hit for Millar. He walked, Nixon doubled, and Bill Mueller grounded out, scoring Damon. Then John Olerud, pinch-hitting for Gabe Kapler, stuck it to the Petaginiacs, singling sharply to right to drive home Nixon and tie the game.

In the ninth, David Ortiz walked, Manny singled him over to third, and Jason Varitek walked again to load 'em up.

As my colleague (and affable Yankee fan) Mark Jurkowitz said to me, thank god it was lumbering David Ortiz at third, and not someone with even a modicum more speed. Otherwise, Dale Sveum might have been tempted to send the runner on Damon's liner to shallow right -- a hit that almost no one could have scored on.

So the bases stayed loaded for Trot Nixon. Two outs. Bottom of the ninth. Apparently Danys Baez hadn't gotten the memo. Trot mashes fastballs. As Dennis Eckersley proclaimed, incredulously, post-game: "You can't throw gas by Trot!" No you cannot.

Trot had a huge game, going 2 for 5 with two RBI, and his throw to the plate to erase Toby Hall in the eighth was a pivotal play. In just seven games since coming of the DL on August 23, he's got a home run and six RBI under his belt.

The Yankees lost out west last night, with ol' buddy Bellhorn going 0 for 4. Shocker! So we picked up a game, which is nice. Let's build on this.

(Sox Blog has tickets tonight. Rain, rain, stay away.)

Etc.
The shuffling has begun. September starts tomorrow.

Keith Foulke is back tomorrow night. But last night was not good at all. His line against the single-A Vermont Expos: 1 IP, 2 R, 2 ER, 4 H, 0 BB, 3 K. Striking out the side is a good thing, I suppose. But those four hits and two runs we could probably do without.

Bud Selig is majorly PO'd, and wants to see Boomer in his office. NOW.

Fenway looks great these days, now it's time to get to work on the areas around it.

And Jesus is just alright with Trot. And Wake, and Tek, and Curt, and Dougie, and Billy, and Matt, and Chad, and Olerud, and Graffanino, and both Mikes. In addition to a healthy contingent of Jewish players, the Red Sox has "the largest group of evangelical Christians on any team in Major League Baseball."

Perhaps that's one reason why -- unlike in years past -- God (and Jesus) smiled on us last October. May he do so again.

8/31/2005 12:59:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

There were reasons to be concerned when the downpour came last night. Matt Clement had thrown two hitless innings, and we'd already homered twice in the span of three at-bats. Would that 103-minute delay cool off our offense or throw a kink into Clement's rhythm?

No, on both counts. Seth McClung, who'd sadly lost his grandmother earlier that day, did not come back out for the bottom of the second, but Matty did. He went three more innings, finishing his night having given up just a run on three hits, picking up just his second win since the All-Star break in the process.

And we kept hitting. Every starter had at least one, and our home batting average is creeping toward .300. (We're second, by a single percentage point, only to the Yankees, who've played eight more games at Stade Fasciste than we've played at Fenway.) It's good to be home.

In relief of Clement, Mike Myers tossed a scoreless sixth, but Jonathan Papelbon gave up another couple hits and a run. Sadly, soft-throwing Abe Alvarez, who looked so tidy closing out the ninth on Sunday, wasn't nearly so neat last night, giving up three hits and two runs in the eighth and a homer and a couple singles in the ninth, one of which Mike Timlin allowed to score on a fielder's choice before Gabe Kapler made an acrobatic catch in center to end the game.

Kapler was subbing for Johnny Damon, who'd walked out of the batter's box grimacing after pitch deflected off his knuckle. He's listed as day-to-day. Good news, since at first, it looked much worse. Let's hope he's not out for much longer than a couple days, because we're not going anywhere without him.

(Nor without this guy. Really, what can one say? He's a machine. But is he an MVP?)

Speaking of going places: Can anyone say they're all that surprised? Mark Bellhorn is gonna be a Yankee. One has to wonder if his decision to say no to Oakland and go to the Yanks is a calculated Bronx cheer at Red Sox front office. At any rate, this is a tough one. Sox Blog really wanted to root for him, but simply cannot. Not here, not now. Old friend Alan Embree has been pitching much better of late. Let's hope there's no similar turnaround for the King of Ks, and that the frenzied screaming of 55,000 Yankee Stadium fans only ensures that his strikeouts mount.

Meanwhile, the MFY keep winning. Someone test Jason Giambi. Now. If he hits another two homers against us to win some future Game 7 or to keep us from the playoffs in the final series of the season, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.

David Wells, whose six-game suspension was upheld by "Yankee Bob" Watson, had a lot to say about steroids and the comish yesterday. Some choice quotes from the usually taciturn big guy:

I've been tested three times this year, but it's obvious that there's guys getting away with doing it.

In the Palmeiro case . . . from what I understand from a few sources, [Bud Selig] said, "Let's just wait until the Hall of Fame [induction] is over and then we'll suspend [him]." That's what I heard. He probably did it because he didn't want the Hall of Famers or electees to have to answer questions about steroids because its a distraction.

I can't wait to win the World Series and have Bud Selig come up, I really can't. Who knows what will come out of that. . . . I know he'll shy away from me. . . . I know Selig doesn't like me. . . . I've never said anything good in the past. I mean, look at his actions and what he's done, especially the All-Star Game a couple of years ago and the Congressional hearings. I don't think he's done anything good for the game.

MLB shot back:

David Wells has once again created a distraction with a series of ill-informed and ill-conceived comments.

And the Red Sox, of course, stood by their man:

The comments made by David today regarding the commissioner of baseball do not in any way reflect the views of the club. The club believes the commissioner has demonstrated visionary leadership and integrity, and we recognize that his contributions to the game have been enormous.

Not everyone thinks so.

Anyway, back to pitching. With Alvarez's struggles last night, and Papelbon's overuse in the bullpen (four innings of relief over the last five days), it's looking more and more likely that Lenny DiNardo will make his next scheduled start. Or maybe not. As Jeff Horrigan points out, we may be soon to acquire Steve Trachsel, who was screwed by the Mets after pitching eight shutout innings in his first start back from the DL, may be coming our way. I'd love to see him here, but only if the price was right. Which prospects would we have to part with?

We also just picked up Chad Harville, who's surrendered just three hits and two runs (both homers) in 10-plus innings this month, off waivers from Houston. Gauge vox populi here and here.

Meanwhile, Gordon Edes reports that the lauded and long-awaited Craig Hansen has been "shut down indefinitely with a tired arm." That's good, in a way. We wouldn't want to damage such a bona fide prospect physically, nor would we want to call him up to the bigs after riding him so hard in AA, then have him be ineffective, and thereby damaging his confidence. Still, after all this

As predicted, Keith Foulke will be activated on Thursday. Please God, let him be good.

And Schilling gets a second chance tonight. Same goes for him.

8/30/2005 11:54:00 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

It says a lot about the state of our beloved team that Sox Blog is thrilled to have taken two of three from the Detroit Tigers -- and that I'm not entirely sure we'll sweep the formerly-hapless Devil Rays like we should.

The game on Friday night was a weird one. It started an hour late. It was played on new sod. We scored weird. We pitched weird. We fielded weird. (Kevin Millar and Doug Mirabelli did, at least.)

We had 10 hits on the night, but our nine runs came mainly by way of force plays, sac flies, walked-in runs. Theirs, meanwhile, came almost entirely from homers. Four of 'em, including one that seemed surely foul, but was later overturned. I screamed long and hard at my television, but then sheepishly recanted when a different camera angle revealed it was just fair.

Wake was shaky at first, giving up a run right away, and then four more of 'em in the fourth. He settled down, though, to get through two more innings unscathed. Alas, Jeremi Gonzalez had turned back into a pumpkin, ending his 11-plus inning scoreless streak with a couple towering dingers to Pudge Rodriguez and Magglio Ordonez. Chad Bradford, was good, coming on to retire the last two batters of the inning, then he was bad, coming out for the eighth and giving up a couple hits and a run. For a moment it looked like the bullpen would blow it again, but Mike Timlin nailed it down with a one-hit ninth.

But Saturday was terrible. Just terrible. When you cannot hold a 6-0 lead against the sixth-worst team in the American League -- even one that does know how to hit a bit -- your team has big problems. Simply put: we don't pitch so good.

A six-run third should have been enough to put the game away. But, no. Bronson Arroyo, bad '90s alt-rock ringing in his ears, managed to come back out for the fourth and -- thanks to a couple singles, a walk, a grand slam, then two doubles -- give up five runs. He surrendered two more doubles in the sixth, scoring a run, before being relieved by Jonathan Papelbon, who gave up two more doubles, plating two more runs.

In the seventh, Papelbon walked in another for good measure run after IBB'ing the beastly Dmitri Young. In the eighth, Gonzalez hit Placido Polanco with a pitch. Then gave up a double, scoring one. Then he gave up a triple, scoring another one. Then he was relieved by Mike "White Flag" Remlinger, who immediately gave up a run-scoring single.

Weirdly, it wasn't until the ninth, with the game all but lost, that Mike Myers, the guy with the third-best ERA on the staff, came in to pitch a one-hit inning. Cold comfort indeed.

''Not a real fun night," opined Tito. One could say that, yes.

Rubbing salt in the wounds, the Yankees had, just hours prior, scored five runs in the ninth, pulling a win out of their collective asses to slice our lead in the AL East to a mere game and a half.

Thankfully, we were able to keep it that way on Sunday.

The Lord's Day started with glad tidings: the news came down that Remlinger had been released. And there was much rejoicing.

Things just got better. The Fat Man was dealing, more or less, and went seven strong to give a beleaguered bullpen a badly-needed rest. Chad Bradford pitched a scoreless eighth, and call-up Abe Alvarez came on for a tidy 1-2-3 ninth. That deserves a tip of the cap.

Of course, the pressure was off, because we hit like crazy yesterday.

Billy Mueller, in the words of Phoenix cleaning guy Pat D, "played through his face." It wasn't just his 3-4 day, with a home run and two RBIs. He also made two jaw-dropping plays at the hot corner, making diving stops in foul ground and miraculously getting the ball to first toot sweet. He's been on fire of late, hitting safely in 21 straight starts (35 of his last 38 games). Gotta love the Pro. Will he be around next season? It would be great if he was.

Johnny Damon went 2-4 with three RBIs to reclaim the top spot in AL batting average. (Meanwhile, his wife Michelle made her blogging debut.)

David Ortiz -- who looked pretty funny in the first, playing possum by attempting to bunt before lining an RBI single to the shift in right -- hammered a two-run job in the eighth, a capstone on a heartening win. He's now tied with buddy Manny Ramirez: 33 homers and 115 RBIs each. Amazing.

But we're not gonna to slug our way to another World Series. So pitching must get better, and fast. The relative efficacy of guys like Alvarez, Papelbon, and Manny Delcarmen is heartening, of course. And Craig Hansen will be here soon. (Let's keep expectations in check, though, m'kay? The guy was taking final exams in May.)

But it's Keith Foulke -- and this guy -- who'll make or break this thing. In two rehab starts in Lowell, Foulke has allowed a run each in two innings, so it's clear he's got some work still to do. It's not his arm strength that's the issue, of course, it's that all-important location, and the differentiation between his fastball and change-up. And we might let him work it all out with the big club. Word is we may see him in middle-relief as soon as Thursday.

Meanwhile, not-dead-yet Matt Clement faces Seth McClung at the Fens tonight. We should win this one. And the two after it. Let's.

8/29/2005 1:08:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

It coulda been worse, I suppose. He could have been arrested for DUI.

But what can you say? Curt no es bueno.

I expected him to be shaky. But I figured that would happen around the fourth inning or so. I was wrong.

Things looked so promising at first: A backwards K, right off the bat ... a pop-out ... a single, fine ... but then another swinging strikeout.

But in the second, the wheels came off. A single. A fielder's choice. A single. A single. A single. A fly-out. A single. Three runs on the inning.

The third started with a double. A hit-by-pitch. Another fielder's choice, another run scores.

In the fourth, something new: a walk! Then another double, another sac fly, another two runs.

But Curt wanted to come out for the fifth. And why the hell not? He was dealing, after all. This time, he only allowed a single. But that was all she wrote.

Miraculously, Mike Remlinger pitched a one-hit, scoreless sixth. Jonathan Papelbon took over for the final two frames, but his towering seventh-inning homer to Emil Brown was just the exclamation point on a shitty, shitty night.

The defending World Series champions really shouldn't be dropping two of three to the dregs of the game. A team with a .336 winning percentage. A team that just came off one of the longest losing streaks in major league history. But we did.

Can't say it's all that surprising that last night was a bust. Everyone with half a brain knew our erstwhile ace would have some kinks to work out, and that he very possibly would be digging us an early-innings hole we'd be forced to work out of.

Which is why is was so disheartening to see a starting lineup that looked like it was just cobbled together from guys hanging around the clubhouse before the game:

1) Johnny Damon, CF
2) Edgar Renteria, SS
3) John Olerud,
4) Manny Ramirez, DH
5) Jason Varitek, C
6) Kevin Millar, LF
7) Bill Mueller, 3B
8) Alex Cora, 2B
9) Gabe Kapler, RF

One half expected to see the bat boy hitting eighth, and Johnny Pesky rounding out the order. As one poster put it in the Sons of Sam Horn game thread last night: "Very funny.... What's the REAL lineup?"

Fine, Big Papi needed a night; and maybe it'll wake up his bat. And fine, Alex Cora had two RBIs. But John Olerud went 0 for 4. (Why is Roberto Petagine on this roster again?) And, as much as it astonishes me to say this, we really could have used Manny in left instead of as DH. How many times did runners from third test Millar's arm last night? And how many times did he fail that test? Manny being Manny might have prevented a couple runs.

The "rubber game" of the 2005 season? Hardly. But a nauseating loss all the same. And, yes, "the clock is ticking." The fact that Schilling was utterly ineffective against the worst offense in the game is, of course, deeply troubling. But don't count me in the doom and gloom crowd. (At least not yet.) I disagree with those who say we should say "thanks for 2004, see you in 2006," and give his spot over to Papelbon. Throw him out there one more time and see if he can turn it around. If he can't, then we've got some serious thinking to do.

At least we're coming home, and for a long time. Still, for moment, at least, the grass isn't greener on the other side of the Monster. In fact, according to SoSH, "inside info from security is that a 'new field is going in tonight.'" Fantastic. Nice to know the Red Sox raked in ducats "in the seven-figure range" from these Stones shows. But -- and far be it from Sox Blog to agree with Shaughnessy -- if Manny or Johnny or Trot trip on some unseen divot, blow out a knee, and take the rest of the season down with them, plenty of people are gonna be plenty pissed.

At least reinforcements are on the way. Something tells me we'll need 'em.

In the mean time, perhaps some perspective is in order. There's more to life than baseball.

8/26/2005 12:56:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

The world kept spinning in the 80 days between Kevin Millar's home runs.

Syrian Vice President Abdul Halim Khaddam stepped down

Michael Jackson was acquitted of all charges

Four earthquakes shook California

Live 8 succeeded in making poverty history (wait, actually, no it didn't)

Spain joined Belgium and the Netherlands in allowing same-sex marriage

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was published

London was twice attacked by terrorists

President Bush nominated John Roberts to the Supreme Court

Lance Armstrong won his seventh straight Tour de France

The Irish Republican Army announced it was ending its armed campaign

The space shuttle Discovery spent two weeks orbiting Earth

Israel disengaged from the Gaza Strip

Brad and Jen got divorced

It was a long time coming. But it happened. In the second inning, Kevin Millar hit a home run. He even notched a single in the fourth and worked a walk in the sixth, and made a great leaping catch. ALIVE!

A shame, then, that it was all for naught. In a long, rain-delayed, 11-inning game, the Red Sox lost to the worst team in the majors. Not good. Not good all.

Especially since we could've gained a game on the Yankees, who got killed by the Jays. (But don't you dare say they suck.)

There are really no excuses for games like this. We couldn't score after the third inning. This despite the fact that we had the base loaded three times in three consecutive innings. (Both teams left 13 guys on base.) So many opportunities. So little done to capitalize on them.

And it's not just Manny's fault. David Ortiz hit into a double play when we needed him to hit big. Johnny Damon grounded out with the three men on in the sixth. And Millar was robbed with the bases jacked in the seventh, lobbing a sinking liner that really looked like it was gonna fall in.

Bummer, too, because Matt Clement did his job, lasting seven and keeping the game winnable. (He also got hit by a comebacker. Again. What gives? Between that and this and this and this, you've almost gotta wonder if there's something in those titanium necklaces that attracts line drives.)

Mike Myers, Chad Bradford, and Mike Timlin combined to hold the line for two.

But we just ... couldn't ... score.

Wisely, Tito was afraid of bringing Mike Remlinger into a tied extra-innings game. (Why again is he still on this team?) So instead we got Bronson Arroyo -- who will make his scheduled start on Saturday, despite throwing 34 pitches -- compelled to take the mound for the 10th. He retired 'em 1-2-3, but then loaded the bases in the 11th and allowed a game-winning sac fly to former PawSoxer Chip Ambres.

Oh well. Just get back up and have at 'em again. But win this time. These are the frackin' Kansas City Royals. And we got this guy going. Hope he can pitch as well as he can run his mouth off.
(UPDATE: Jayson Stark points out just what a tough row it's gonna be for him to hoe.)

8/25/2005 12:01:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

"Got the bass... No treble."

That's David Wells, describing how Metallica sounds through "underwater" ears.

Yep. Still sick. But unlike last time, he didn't let it get him down. Five innings, five hits, no runs, and one last dose of antibiotics. Things can only get better.

(Show him some love and buy his t-shirt.)

Jeremi Gonzalez (dude's Wiki-worthy!) took up the mantle, pitching three innings of no-hit relief, continuing a nice little run of six appearances (11 and two thirds innings) in which he's allowed just three hits, one walk, and zero earned runs.

But Mike Timlin's debut as stop-gap closer could have gone better. A single and a walk, each following two fly-outs, spelled trouble when Timlin couldn't snag John Buck's pop-up. Then Donny Murphy's bases-loaded single scored two runs before former Sox farmhand Chip Ambres grounded out to end it.

At least it wasn't a save situation. Still, Tito and Timlin himself seem unconcerned. Onward.

The return of Trot Nixon was a fine thing to see. He went one for four -- a ringing double to deep center -- that drove home Edgar Renteria (who was three for five with two RBIs).

Good to have him back where he belongs. Just wish he hadn't hit that liner offa Foulkie.

To make room for him, however, they sent poor Lenny DiNardo back down the farm. Is jettisoning a 25-year-old lefty with a 3.04 ERA (in AAA ball) in favor of a 39-year-old lefty with a 19.80 ERA a perplexing decision? Yes, to Sox Blog's mind, it certainly is. Hopefully it will soon come to make more sense. At least Lenny will be back in a week. No post-season for him, though.

In other news:

* We're lucky. But maybe not that lucky.

* Fenway might soon be getting a plaque.

* Mike Sweeney misses Tony Graffanino. Can't really blame him.

Etc.
This is a week late, but deserves a look. Lad rag Barstool Sports has put together a list comparing every major league team to a Simpsons character. The Red Sox? "Lisa Simpson. Beloved by all. Used to being overlooked and trod upon, so that when they finally get a day in the sun, they don't really know what to do with it. Unfortunate tendency to get a little self-righteous. Antagonistic relationship with those in positions of power."

The Yankees? Who do you think? "Driven to success by an almost unimaginable wealth of resources, which they use to ruthlessly crush their enemies, although typically not by the most efficient means possible (blocking out the sun, Bernie Williams). Seemingly unaware of the (obvious) reasons why they are hated. They seem to have been a key actor in pretty much everything important that happened before 1970."

The issue also features the fanatasy line up of the Red Sox All-Insane Team. (Funny, even if it is a direct rip-off of this.) Sox Blog's favorite?

"Catcher: Mo Berg. The most fascinating ballplayer no one's ever heard of. Picture Doug Mirabelli if he was a "Jeopardy!" champion and our top spy in Iraq. Berg was the Sox backup in the 1930s who spoke 12 languages, answered questions about Sanskrit on radio quiz shows, talked physics with Einstein, and was a spy for the Allies in Germany during WWII. He makes this list because he spent his life after the war sitting around in a kimono, mooching off his brother, reading a dozen newspapers a day and asking if anyone wanted to hear about his adventures. No one did."

8/24/2005 1:39:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Not much to report today, in the quiet calm before the apocalyptic storm that is a Red Sox-Royals series. (Hell, even the Soxaholix are talking more about Babs and Barry than the Olde Towne Team.)

Gordon Edes has an insightful look at our relentless and overpowering offense, which is well-positioned to lead the league in runs scored for the third consecutive season.

A Globe intern interviews fellow Colombian and all-around class act Edgar Renteria. Now that he's batting .348 in the last 10 games, including a few big hits in the clutch, let's get off his case. (Even if he is still leading the majors in errors.)

Trot Nixon -- 2 for 4 with a homer last night -- looks good to go.

Tesla?! At Fenway?! Woohoo!

Dave McCarty likes big words.

Happy belated birthday, Yaz.

Hope you're feeling better, Boomer. Just win.

8/23/2005 11:09:00 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

You are now entering a Rolling Stones free zone. (Read about them here and here and here instead.) Baseball talk only from here on in.

It was a day for splits way out west yesterday. Jonathan Papelbon's split-finger fastball -- a pitch he learned just this spring from Curt Schilling, and one that's been working better for him than it has been for his mentor -- was nasty. End result, thanks in no small part to an eventful eighth inning, was a split of a series that could easily have been an unpleasant trip to the tragic kingdom.

Friday, we won by the skin of our teeth after doing a lot of squandering. We squandered a ton of golden opportunities to put runs on the board, leaving 16 guys on base. We squandered a two-run lead in the eighth, and almost squandered Matt Clement's stellar outing and Curt Schilling's two perfect innings (5 Ks). David Ortiz was not happy. Luckily, Manny Ramirez grounded out in the 10th to score Gabe Kapler. All's well that ends well.

Saturday, as is our wont, we were handcuffed by a rookie. Ervin Santana spun seven and two thirds of scoreless ball before finally proving his mortality when he allowed a two-out, two-run single from Edgar Renteria in the eighth. Arroyo had pitched six decent innings (four hits, two runs, just one of them earned before heading to Sonny McLean's in Santa Monica to hang with the glitterati and play some of that rock and roll music). But Lenny DiNardo, just called back up from Pawtucket, didn't pitch quite as well as he probably woulda liked, giving up two runs that would decide the game.

For a time yesterday it looked like we might be due for a repeat. We'd been were stymied for seven innings by the indomitable Paul Byrd. Luckily, our young stud pitched just as well, keeping the scoreboard empty until Renteria could ride to the rescue, hammering 2-out, 3-run homer, his first in 199 at-bats.

(''He's played fairly well, but I think his best days with the Red Sox are ahead of him," said soon-to-be-much-richer Theo Epstein. ''He's capable of more. He's done well, but there's more in there than we've seen." Let's hope.)

Then, something crazy happened. David Ortiz bunted. Shift that! Then, something much more commonplace occured. Manny Ramirez homered, he pimped a little, he rounded the bases, and there were hugs all around.

So here, we are, still four games up (thanks, RJ!) heading into Kansas City with some pretty big decisions to make.

Schilling, finally, is back where he belongs. (First he wasn't, but now he is.)

What does that mean? For one thing, it means that Shaughnessy is thrilled. Thrilled.

But despite the three hits and one run he coughed up in an inning yesterday, color me cautiously optimistic. This is the role he's comfortable in. And giving up three hits and one run in the first or second inning of a game is quite different from doing the same in the ninth. He's done his job -- albeit shakily at times -- and says he's ready. Let's see what he's got.

It doesn't look like Keith Foulke has been significantly set back by that line drive off the elbow, so hopefully we can throw him in there soon and do the same.

The good news: even if he's no good, there are other options. Papelbon could move to the pen. Despite DiNardo's poor showing the other day, he's pitched very well in Pawtucket; he probably won't be hanging around, but it's good to know he's there if we need a lefty. And Little Manny is always an option. Hell, if need be, we could always re-sign The Can, who I watched pitch seven shutout innings in Brockton on Friday night.

In the mean time, Mike Timlin says he's ready for anything.

Will we see Craig Hansen in KC? Edes thought so last week, but now isn't so sure.

You might get a look at him -- in what could conceivably even be his last appearance in the minors -- when the Portland Sea Dogs take on the Trenton Thunder at 7 p.m. on NESN.

The Sea Dogs and the PawSox both won yesterday, too. (Unfortunately, the Westbrook, Maine little leaguers were not so lucky.) Pawtucket's victory came with help from one Trot Nixon, who went one for two with a walk and a sac fly. He could be back in the lineup on Tuesday.

So things are looking up. (For the team as a whole, if not for Kevin Millar or Mark Bellhorn.)

Kansas City, here we come. It's a favorite place of this fat guy and this one. Let's nip their two-game win streak in the bud.

8/22/2005 12:58:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Man, I hate staying up late for crap like this.

The warm California sun didn't shine so kindly last night, as the Sox fell down easy before The Giant Colon's smoking fastballs. Bartolo must really put his weight behind 'em.

Wakefield got hit, and he got hit. (Deep contusion. No breaks, thank God.)

Manny was Manny in left field, but not so much at the plate. (Time for another day off?)

Was Garret Anderson really hurt, or did he just not wanna be embarrassed by Mike Myers again like he was in the ALDS last year? No matter, Juan "Righty" Rivera was unabashed as he bashed Myers for the first of his two homers.

The other one came off the other Mike, who wasn't so hot either. Shocking, I know. But Remlinger gave up five runs on six hits. So we were treated to the perplexing and vaguely chilling sight of Alex Cora -- ALEX CORA! -- warming up in the bullpen. Luckily, we didn't need him. Strange times indeed. Hansen? Little Manny? Oil Can? Help.

Good news: Trot's on his way, Foulkie too.

So let's get back out there and have at 'em again. We've won there before, after all. No reason we can't do it again. Make Lackey our lackey. (Manny's batting .545 against him. He'd better not sit this one out.)

Meanwhile, back home, it's only rock'n'roll.

8/19/2005 12:24:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

And here I was ready to blame it on a hangover.

David Wells is known not to enjoy daytime starts. And his appetite for beverages both fermented and distilled is well-established. In fact, he's freely admitted to pitching "half-drunk."

So, distressing as it was, it stood to reason that the guy gave up a five-spot in the first inning yesterday on four consecutive singles, a double, and then two more singles. Perfect game, this was not. He settled down for a few frames, but then gave up a homer to lead off the fifth, ending his four-plus inning outing with six runs on 12 hits.

As turns out, however, he's got a bad sinus infection and was feeling pretty pukey. So I take back all the unspeakable profanities I muttered to myself yesterday as the hits kept coming. Get well soon Boomer!

He wasn't the only one feeling less than 100%. Manny was feeling beat up. Again. So he got the day off. Again.

Would he have prevented us from grounding into FIVE double plays, including the one David Ortiz, representing the go-ahead run, fell victim to in the ninth? Nick Cafardo thinks so.

So we grumble. Again. But what more can we do? Manny is Manny. Just hope he's recharged his battery, and is ready to mash the first-place and formidable Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. (Not to be confused with the Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles). We'll need him.

In the mean time, just remain calm. Luckily, the Yanks lost too. 4 1/2 it remains.

Etc.
Welcome back, John Olerud.

Hurry up, Hansen. You can't be worse than Remlinger. (Sorry, but it's true.)

Glad you'll be sticking around, Arroyo. Just put the guitar away for a while.

And thank you, Mark Bellhorn. You'll always be one of the 25. And we'll never forget this or this or this.

8/18/2005 12:55:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Like the man said, payback is a bitch. Our stop-gap closer might blow an occasional save, but at least he doesn't blow them like that. Wow.

We're guessing Alan Trammell didn't sleep a wink last night. How on earth could he?

Nate Robertson, as we say in the biz, was dealing. He'd breezed through eight innings, giving up just two hits and three walks, and he'd thrown only 90 pitches. The score was 3-2 in his favor. If ever a guy was primed to go back out there and try for a complete game win, he was that guy.

But Trammell opted to bring in Fernando Rodney to nail the game down. In retrospect, that was a considerable miscalculation.

With one out, David Ortiz -- who knows Rodney's tendencies from time spent with him in the Dominican -- sidled up to the plate, spit on his hands, and clapped them together. Then launched one deep to right center, tying the game.

Are there really still people who argue that clutch hitters don't exist?

In the bottom half, Chad Bradford held the line with a perfect 1-2-3 inning. Then the fun really started. Craig Dingman is an unfortunate name for a pitcher, but the reliever lived up to it as Tony Graffanino and Kevin Youkilis singled consecutively, then Bill Mueller bumped a slow roller into the infield to score Graffanino and give the good guys the lead in the 10th.

But that's not all! Johnny Damon singled off Jamie Walker, scoring Youk, then stole second. Edgar Renteria singled, moving Damon to third.

And then David Ortiz homered again.

And then Manny Ramirez doubled.

And then Jason Varitek homered. For the second time -- once from each side of the plate, reminiscent, of course, of this.

(And then Kevin Millar fouled out to the catcher. He'd lined out to open the 10th. One man accounting for 67 percent of the outs in an inning -- no small feat!)

Don't worry, Alan. It's better to regret something you have done than to regret something you haven't done. And at least Michael Rosenberg doesn't hold it against you.

But who woulda thunk that, when push came to shove, we'd actually need those runs?

Poor Mike Remlinger. In the gloaming of his career, he signs on with his hometown team and, for lack of a better term, totally screws the pooch. The good news is that, in his third relief appearance, he finally recorded an out -- two of 'em in fact, and quick! The bad news is they now longer get to use the infinity symbol to represent his ERA, which now stands at a colossal 54.00 after a walk, a single, another walk, and then Craig Monroe's grand slam cut the score to 10-7.

So the final tally wasn't as lopsided as it might have been; at least we got away with win.

Thing were quite different down Tropicana way.

The Yankees entered the ninth inning against the Devil Rays up 3-2 instead of down. They had the indomitable Mariano Rivera on the mound, ready to close it out. But he did not. If the Rays aren't going to the postseason, at least they can be a pain in the ass. Eduardo Perez homered for the second time that night to tie up. It was just Rivera's fourth blown save this season. Nonetheless, he stayed out for the 10th, giving up just a hit.

Then embedded Red Sox Alan Embree relieved him in the 11th, promptly allowing Carl Crawford to double to deep left.

Scott Proctor came on to bail him out. He balked, sending Crawford to third base. He walked Perez, and IBB'd Aubrey Huff to load 'em up. Then, on four pitches, he walked Johnny Gomes, forcing in the winning run.

Theeeeeee Yankees lose!

What had looked just 45 minutes earlier like a night that would see us ceding another game in the standings, ended instead with us getting one back.

And the Empire wept. (And here and here and here.) Sometimes schadenfreude is a beautiful thing.

Lest we forget, Jon(athan) Papelbon did a fine job once again, giving up just two runs on six hits in five innings and striking out six. Good thing, because it appears he'll be around for a while.

Meanwhile, the Youkilis yo-yo just keeps on bouncing. Gotta suck for him to see Remlinger still on the team while he has to drive back down to Pawtucket. Don't worry, Kev, September is coming soon.

The big man takes the mound in an hour. Win.

8/17/2005 12:06:00 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Sox Blog tuned into last night's game with such robust optimism.

We were riding a six game win streak -- 13 in a row at home -- and on Sunday mother nature had kindly interceded to make sure it stayed that way. Matt Clement's shaky start had been washed away with that torrential rainout; what was left was the knowledge that on consecutive nights we'd beaten Mark Buehrle and Jon Garland, the two best starters on the best team in the American League.

Like the morning after a hard rain, things seemed fresh and clean. As the great Timbuk 3 once sang, things were going great ... and they were only getting better.

Before the game NESN screened footage of Trot Nixon shagging fly balls at full-speed and taking some monstrous cuts at the plate. The rehab stint, they report, will be short.

Wade Miller had said he felt "a lot better" and was about ready to start throwing side sessions.

John Olerud was soon to be activated from the DL.

Keith Foulke had thrown 40 pitches in his fourth bullpen session.

And here we were in Detroit, with the toothless Tigers just asking to be turned to mounted trophies on our clubhouse wall.

Then reality so cruelly intervened.

Things looked good at first. Alex Cora homered for just the third time this year to give us the early 3-0 lead in the second.

But Bronson had to battle. He gave back those three runs in the next two innings, but then settled down to keep 'em scoreless over the next three frames -- as we tacked on one more each in the fourth and the fifth and David Ortiz went yard in the seventh. (He's now topped the 100 RBI mark for the third straight season.)

Mike Timlin and Chad Bradford came on in relief, and the latter gave up a run. But we still had a two-run lead going into the bottom of the ninth. Easy peasy Japanesey.

Enter Curt Schilling.

A single. A triple. A single. A walk. Another single. Four hits and three runs in one inning. And that was all she wrote.

Yeah, it's just one game. And it's only Schilling's second blown save. But let's be brutally honest here. If one cannot protect a two run lead against the Detroit Tigers, can one reasonably be expected to be a crucial, necessary component -- in any capacity -- down the stretch?

Can we really believe that Curt will simply reinsert himself into the rotation and carry us to the promised land as a starter? We already have a guy who stakes teams to a three-run lead in the first inning, and his name is Wade Miller.

Schilling's fastball last night was not fast at all, just barely reaching 90 mph. Worse, hitters seem to just be sitting on that all-important splitter. The results speak for themselves. (And, lest we forget, his previous two outings haven't exactly been walks in the proverbial park. He gave up three runs in the ninth on Friday and a homer on Saturday.) His ERA is 6.69.

Everyone talks like he'll simply be able to reestablish himself as the iron horse starter he was last year, and that Keith Foulke will take his place in the ninth with the same effortless efficacy. I'm not so sure. As it stands right now, we probably have the pitching to get us to the post-season. But we sure as hell don't have enough to go deep. Wakefield and Wells are the only consistent cogs in the rotation, and that ain't gonna cut it. This is one ship that needs to be righted soon, because there's not guarantee we can keep hitting at the balls-out intensity that we have been lately. If Manny and Big Papi and Bill Mueller and Tony Graffanino somehow suddenly go cold, we're going to be in some distress.

Because, meanwhile, theeeeeee Yankees win. Again. Thanks to the rain-out and the off-day, they've now gained two games on us. Their pitching has been getting the job done, and old friend A-Rod is homering like crazy. Who said the division race was all wrapped up? (Oh yeah. He did. "By a landslide.")

Panic? No way. Concern. Absolutely. But we can do this. Let's.

Pitch well, young Papelbon.

8/16/2005 11:59:00 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

"Graffanino is on his way to becoming a Fenway folk hero."

"Must keep Graffanino"

"Graffanino got teh smarts!"

"Ok, I really like him...."

"Tony Graffanino = Denny Doyle '75"

"I love Bellhorn. Seems like a great guy and Ill always defend him. But c'mon, its Graffanino time"

"Tony Graffanino is the best player in the history of baseball"

So said the diehards on last night's Sons of Sam Horn game thread. And they spoke the truth. Tony Graffanino: You cannot stop him. You can only hope to contain him.

As his five-year-old son lay in a hospital bed, Graff went 3 for 3 with four RBIs, including a three-run homer over the Monster, powering us on to a win.

Why just three at-bats? Because he was intentionally walked (with two outs) in the seventh -- something that's happened to him only three times before in a nine-year career.

He also dashed home on a wild pitch thanks to some heads-up base running in the fourth.

And he turned couple sweet defensive plays. But that's par for the course with a guy with just one error on the year at second base. (And that was in Kansas City.)

He's batting .333 in a Red Sox uniform, with six RBIs and 12 runs in 14 games.

Mark Bellhorn, we hardly knew ye.

Sorry, buddy. But facts is facts. And unless you can start hitting above the Mendoza Line in Triple-A, there's no way you're gonna be the starting second baseman for the Boston Red Sox.

The AL's two leading offensive juggernauts met last night (at Fenway, a place where the Rangers have played terribly) and the results were predictable: many hits and mediocre pitching.

But contributions in this team win came from unlikely quarters. Alex Cora and Roberto Petagine each got two hits. So did Kevin Millar. (Did my little pep talk yesterday work? Maybe so, but he's still just slapping singles.) Johnny Damon and Ortiz also notched a hit and two RBIs each, Big Papi's two-run homer setting us on the way to immediately reclaiming the three-spot the Rangers had put up in the first.

Yes, predictably, Wade Miller had to battle hard once again, his first-inning woes only continuing. He got it together, a little, but ended up lasting just four and a third innings surrendering five runs (four earned) on 10 hits and three walks, striking out just two.

Luckily, Jeremi Gonzalez was able to bounce back from his last disastrous appearance (six hits, five runs in an inning and a third) to help bail him out, pitching two and two third scoreless innings and getting the W for his troubles. Mike Timlin pitched one (letting his own runner score for a change) and Chad Bradford pitched another (giving up only a hit) and that was that.

Some shout-outs:

Welcome back Youk. (Yes, again.)

Nice knowing you, Jose.

Feel better, Billy.

You too, Trot.

And you, Keith.

RIP, Gene Mauch.

And this just in: Terry Francona loves Boston.
We love him back. But we reserve the right to change our minds. We're Red Sox fans.

8/9/2005 11:33:00 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

On review, Sox Blog's call for a three-game sweep in Minneapolis reeked of hubris.

After all, this is the Metrodome, a cavernous haunt covered over with acres of Teflon-coated fiberglass, carpeted with high-bouncing turf. Weird things happen there. It's where we said goodbye to Nomar, and where Doug Mientkiewicz switched clubhouses and suited up for the Sox to take on his old team the day of last year's trade deadline. It's where, in the very next game, Orlando Cabrera homered in his first at-bat in a Sox uniform -- then booted the ball in the eighth to ruin Pedro's chances for a win.

This weekend only added to the annals of strange and painful losses.

A 12-0 shellacking on Friday.
Literally throwing the game away on Saturday.
On Sunday, it looked like a laugher at first, but by the time Curt Schilling entered with two-outs in the bottom of the ninth and gave up a run-scoring bases-loaded walk before striking out Jacque Jones (who would have been the tying run) we were lucky escape with a win.

Tito said it best. The mission was simply "get the hell out of here.... I hate coming to this place."

Seven errors on the weekend. Wild throws every which way. Some truly boneheaded base running. The bad guys scored 23 runs in three games, eight of them unearned. We were lucky we didn't get swept.

Bronson had a death wish Friday night. His pitching was sloppy enough, but it was his throwing error in the first that did the most damage and led to him exiting after three and a third, pegged for seven runs.

He should really, like, concentrate on his job. This music thing is cute and all, and he's doing surpris