While You Were Out...

Oops… I got distracted for a while, but from what I’m told, the Sox won the Series.  This is a just result talent-wise and organization-wise.  Positive stories of Lester and Lowell outweigh the agita administered to me by the likes of Big Papi getting down the line on a ground ball with the speed of a Big Forklift.  This is the post-season, Meat, so save the Garret Anderson impression for Wednesday night softball after you retire. I love seeing a second baseman boot the ball and still throw guys like this out by a hair after the batter has turned it on 75 feet up the line after seeing the ball get booted.  Galling for any runner to do this, but a semi-player like Ortiz who can spend the next 50 minutes sitting down on an inflatable donut if he wants to?  A whole post-season can turn on one play, and the Sox should know this better than anyone.  Other anti-Sox sentiments coursed through me this post-season when Jonathan Papelbon used the same breath to attribute a blown lead against the Yanks in September to migraines, and suggesting this is no time for excuses.  So then what was that?  Classic athlete-speak from long before his time that is so popular throughout the league.  “I can’t make any excuses, but…”

No question this is as brash a team as they come, but a little confidence comes in handy now and again.  The ALCS actually looked over in the middle of game 5, when the Sox were still down in the series 3-1.  No surprise they would win game 5, as the match-up seemed in their favor, but the way in which the Indians lost, throwing the ball around in a reckless fashion, choking it in their hands, seemed to suggest heading back to Boston while they started to crack up was a bad omen.  The next two games would feature Indians defense that really only needed some Benny Hill music to make it a whimsical montage.  Balls thrown straight in the dirt would suggest the brain forgot to tell the hand to release the ball when the arm comes whipping around.  Think this game ain’t mental?

So with guys like Youkilis, Pedroia and Papelbon firmly in place to go along with promising young pitching, it doesn’t seem like the Sox are going anywhere soon.  What I wonder about that organization is do they probe the mental states of the players they bring up or bring in?  How come players don’t generally go all Ed Whitson on them like so many do in the Bronx?  For every one Eric Gagne in Boston, there seem to be five Javy Vasquezs in New York.  Maybe Brian Cashman should have been a Psych major.