Play Like You Mean It
Dear Red Sox,
The past two days?
Not acceptable.
It's not even that you lost.
It's how you lost.
And who you lost to.
I could have taken a gritty, hardily fought pair of games. But that was not what occured.
The pitching? The pitching was at best, mediocre, and at worst, well, Alan Embree.
String Bean was back, but last night, he was not the String Bean we know and love.
Well, he was, but version 2004, completely with hit batsmen.
But the bats were worse. We could have survived the past two days, if it were not for the
LACK OF TIMELY HITTING.
Edgar's gonna start thinking he's part of some grand practical joke, what with him starting to hit, and just then nearly the entire rest of the lineup going cold. Don't play a practical joke on Edgar boys; he's got enough to worry about.
I am not mad. Well, I am. But what I am more of is disappointed. Because you can do better. And you have done better.
Boys, you're making a trip to the Tri-State Area this weekend, and so am I, though I am going home, and you don't get to go home till next week. It will the First Family Baseball Watching of 2005. It will have beer, and it will be a wondrous and glorious thing. You will have the hopes of not only me going for you, but the Maternal Entity and The Sibling.
And by then, you are to get your heads out of your collective asses, and play like you are damn well capable. You will play like the talented, well-balanced team that you are. Because you are better than this. You are not a bunch of overpaid underachievers. You are the goddamn Red Sox. So act like it.
The past two days?
Not acceptable.
It's not even that you lost.
It's how you lost.
And who you lost to.
I could have taken a gritty, hardily fought pair of games. But that was not what occured.
The pitching? The pitching was at best, mediocre, and at worst, well, Alan Embree.
String Bean was back, but last night, he was not the String Bean we know and love.
Well, he was, but version 2004, completely with hit batsmen.
But the bats were worse. We could have survived the past two days, if it were not for the
LACK OF TIMELY HITTING.
Edgar's gonna start thinking he's part of some grand practical joke, what with him starting to hit, and just then nearly the entire rest of the lineup going cold. Don't play a practical joke on Edgar boys; he's got enough to worry about.
I am not mad. Well, I am. But what I am more of is disappointed. Because you can do better. And you have done better.
Boys, you're making a trip to the Tri-State Area this weekend, and so am I, though I am going home, and you don't get to go home till next week. It will the First Family Baseball Watching of 2005. It will have beer, and it will be a wondrous and glorious thing. You will have the hopes of not only me going for you, but the Maternal Entity and The Sibling.
And by then, you are to get your heads out of your collective asses, and play like you are damn well capable. You will play like the talented, well-balanced team that you are. Because you are better than this. You are not a bunch of overpaid underachievers. You are the goddamn Red Sox. So act like it.
posted by Emma at 10:59 AM
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