Squander
Game 38: May 16, 2005
Red Sox (22-16), 4
Athletics (15-23), 6
L: Mike Myers (1-1)
BS, W: Keiichi Yabu (1, 3-0)
S: Octavio Dotel (8)
I don’t dread Friday the 13th. The number itself is usually of no concern to me, even though it is Alex Rodriguez’s number. But when it’s thirteen left on base in a game, I have an issue. The score should have been something more like 29-6, and Kirk Saarloos should have been cursing the Red Sox like his eponym cursed the Klingons. “You Red Sox bastards! You killed my ERA!” He wasn’t named after James T. Kirk? My apologies, I had geek on the brain. If you click on the video links on the right, you’ll find some Saarloos defensive action, with some moves outdoing the corbomite maneuver.
These West Cost games are killing me. I am coming up with even less insightful comments than before, if that is possible. If these were blowouts, I could go to sleep early and think of something funny to say about the match-up the next day. Instead, I stare at a blank screen, any wit killed by sleep deprivation and the resentment of hanging on until the final out without a win. I don’t even get to enjoy the games as much as I usually would because part of it is a battle against slumber. I hear Don Orsillo giggle somewhere along the edges of my consciousness and I wonder if it’s because of Jerry Remy being truly funny or if Announcer Boy just had a typical titter fit. Meanwhile, Californians arrive in the 4th inning and leave by the 7th, in the sun.
Time zone differences form my sports memories in odd ways because I grew up in Hawai‘i. Monday Night Football would be shown on tape delay, because if it were live, it wouldn’t be playing during primetime. The local sports segment would still report the score in the early evening newscast, but the announcer wouldn’t say the results aloud. Instead, he would say, “It’s close your eyes time as we show the final score of the Monday Night Football game on the bottom of your screen.” For these Pacific Time Zone games, by the time of the final out, it’s way past close your eyes time for me. Come home soon, team. And bring back something better than the “We went on a road trip and all we brought back was a losing record” t-shirt. It was amusing before, but not so much so now.
