These Here Baseballs

I know I promised a post about why New Englanders make such asshole fans, but I realized that said post could, quite literally, go on indefinitely. And as I've no desire to shit myself in this chair--well, not on my first drink anyway--I'll leave it alone. Besides, the sporting world could use a respite from that part of the country. (Ed. note: Ol' No. 7 is a lifelong Red Sox homer but managed to escape the actual Bostonian curse, i.e. gameday douchebaggery, because his parents had the foresight to raise him deep, deep in southern Colorado, far from Narragansett, lobster and Southie. I, on the other hand, was raised a Cubs fan and remain a loser regardless of geography.)

Instead, let's try catching up on some stuff. Like the fact that the Rockies--I'm contractually bound to root for them unless they're playing the Cubs--are one game away from a lavatorial clockwising of their best season ever.

I didn't honestly think they'd beat the Sox. Boston has too many good starters and too many big bats, and they seized that late momentum while the Rocks played simulated 4-inning jerkoffs. But I didn't expect them to be this bad. Take last night. Please.

I mean, wow. Josh Fogg looked terrible, worse than he has in months. Brian Fuentes needed to have a solid one-two-three inning, he quickly dropped trou and offered his own jelly. What looked like a possible sparkplug comeback, the kind of late-inning rally that would fire up the hometowners, devolved into another drab beating.

Give Boston all the credit here. Francona stole Hurdle's magic managerial keychain. Their rookies outplayed Colorado's--Pedroia is the real schlemiel, despite his multiple hemp necklaces and gerbilesque visage. Youkilis got hot at the perfect time, even J.D. Drew decided to leave the world of Suck behind for a few nights. I hope he at least tried a hot dog while he was here.

Having said all that, I have hopes that Cook will win tonight. Delay the inevitable...ah, fuck that. Let's stanch this wound now. I say Boston takes it with a 7-5 victory and celebrates in front of the Monforts' offices with a pile of underage hookers and cheap Mexican heroin.


And here is the rest of it.