The Sox, Two Months In

Tony Massarotti and his super-branded page of wonders (seriously: what's with that massive leaderboard?  Is Massarotti really that much of a sports journalism celebrity?  And do you think Shaughnessy and Ryan sit around and bitch about all of the special attention Massarotti gets?) have a round up of the Sox thus far in 2009.  Most of it isn't too surprising: the offensive has holes, the defense has holes, the starting pitching hasn't been the knockout we'd expect, etc.

However, I was pretty surprised to see how poorly the Sox are doing when it comes to throwing out base runners: almost as many runners caught by pick off as by throw to second?  59 stolen bases allowed in two months?  I know there were a couple of bad days, like when Carl Crawford did his best roadrunner impression over and over and over again, but who knew those bad days turned into giving up over a steal a game for 51 games?  I'd be curious to know if that statistic is making something out of nothing: how many of those steals turned into runs?  Would the Sox be in first now with a good-sized lead if they were more effective at holding runners?  Somehow I doubt it.

Speaking of first, we probably wouldn't be  anywhere near sniffing distance of first place if it weren't for the second (and far more pleasant) surprise factor: our bullpen rocks.  And not just in the warm and fuzzy feelings that I get whenever Okajima or MDC or Ramirez or (usually) Papelbon comes to the mound, but in numbers that would make the original Red Scare jealous: the Sox are first in the American League in bullpen ERA, a full run ahead of their closest competitor, the other Sox.  Bullpen may not be everything, but if we come into October and the bullpen is still pitching at this level, I will be a very happy man.

So: some good things, some bad things, and a cautiously optimistic start to the season.  Next up: the Sox not falling prey to the June Swoon.  My money is still loyally down on a Papi-led breakout.

Game 86: A New Anti-Level

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 1, Tampa Bay Rays 3
I was casting about for ways to describe to you, in text, my feelings about this abortion of a game, something that might encapsulate the visceral disgust I felt at seeing the Sox create situation after situation where they might score, only to flub something, then flub something else, and find themselves retiring to the dugout with men left stranded on base, pleading for home. Hell, it got to the point where I didn't want them to put anymore men on base, because it just delayed the inevitable: would they fish or cut bait?

But you know what? You don't come up with new adjectives every day. You definitely don't come up with new ones that can add a new twist to the same old nightmare: no one hits when they should; the bullpen gives up runs when they shouldn't; underachievement and the hangover of a June swoon make the Sox about as ugly as the beer-goggled late-night bar trophy the morning after. Pretty hard to describe all of that again in detail without choking on some bile.

Instead, I had a flash of inspiration: you know that song New Level, by Pantera? For those not in the know: it's the sort of thing you play when you're trying to psych yourself up, because not only does it rock, but it's all about hitting a new high of confidence and self-empowerment as you do something. That song came into my head after this loss, because when you come right down to it, tonight the Sox hit a new anti-level, of lack of confidence and suckitude. So watch the video, and pretend they're saying the exact opposite of what they're saying in the song. Enjoy:

Game 58: June Swoon

Final Score: Boston Red Sox 2, Oakland Athletics 3

Believe it or not, there were two moments of last night's game I actually enjoyed: first, seeing the Sox score their first runs in seventeen innings, by doing what they do best: putting the ball in play with enough room to spare. Manny doubling to lead off, Youkilis knocking him in with a triple, then coming home when Wily Mo hit a grounder to the left side of the infield. Sweet, sweet relief, like a baseball equivalent of rain in the desert footage played at high speed on a nature show, where the plant grows, uncurls and blooms in the span of about a minute. Of course, this bloom got to about half explosion before it fell over and the plant died, but it was something.

Second, Terry Francona completely losing it on a strike two call to Pedroia in the eighth. Or, more accurately, Francona loudly telling homeplate umpire Dan Iassogna - from the dugout - that he disagreed with the high strike call, getting tossed for his trouble then storming out of the dugout, exchanging some words with Iassogna then getting so angry he took out his gum/chem mix and threw it on the ground so he could give Iassogna the reaming of his life. The complaint wasn't entirely justified - nor was the ejection - but Iassogna had it coming: he'd been consistently inconsistent about the size and shape of his strike zone all night and had a made a terrible check swing call against Ortiz in the sixth. But more importantly (and this is what really made me feel good), Francona expressed what everyone on the bench and every Red Sox fan watching the game felt: this team has suddenly hit the brakes going 100 mph down the long train track to the post-season and it isn't fun to watch.

This morning I realized that the descriptor we're looking for is June Swoon. With six losses in the past seven games after a lights-out April and May, with an offense that's left its bats back in Boston, with four runs scored in three games, with seven double plays in the past two days (a number so incredible
it defies the imagination, like trying to imagine infinity), with the four game sweep looming...yeah, June is the word and swoon is the verb. Will the Sox pull out of the tailspin today? I hope so, but with the limited experience the Sox have against Joe Blanton - today's hopeful victim - I think we need to expect Manny to lead the charge.