Gettotsū [ゲットツー]
| ALCS Game 3: October 15, 2007 | |||
| Red Sox | 2 | L: Daisuke Matsuzaka (0-1) | ALDS: 3-0 ALCS: 1-2 |
 Indians |
4 | W: Jake Westbrook (1-1) H: Jensen Lewis (1) H: Rafael Betancourt (2) S: Joe Borowski (2) |
ALDS: 3-1 ALCS: 2-1 |
| Highlights: The Red Sox grounded into three gettotsū, or double plays, last night. An example of English retrofitted for Japanese baseball, it comes from the phrase “get two.” The “o” sound is elided, just as the “u” in “Daisuke” is omitted. | |||
The Indians executed the plan to exploit Jake Westbrook’s tendency to induce ground balls with near flawlessness. David Ortiz, Coco Crisp, and Manny Ramirez were the rally-killing culprits in the first, second, and sixth innings respectively.
In the first, Ortiz grounded sharply to Asdrubal Cabrera, who was camped to the right and behind of Ryan Garko at first. The wiry second baseman turned to the keystone sack where third baseman Casey Blake was stationed because of the shift and Blake then completed the circuit to first. The Red Sox outfielders’ twin killings were of a routine nature and hardly worth commenting on but for the increased consumption of Tums they precipitated.
When Boston wasn’t making more pitcher’s best friends than a high school senior with a fake ID they were finding odd ways to make outs. After Ortiz doubled with a shot off the Jake’s less formidable left field wall he was plunked by Ramirez’s grounder, erasing the designated hitter from the basepaths.
Home plate umpire Brian Gorman had neither a hitter’s or pitcher’s zone; it was roughly the shape of a four foot by one and one-half foot block of badly hacked Swiss cheese, with the holes representing Gorman’s missed calls.
Save for the second inning two-run home run to Kenny Lofton and the spate of singles in the sixth, Daisuke Matsuzaka pitched well given the ever-shifting zone he was given to work with. He struck out six and walked two, resembling more his late-September resurgence than his August swoon.
Boston batters were not thrown by the thousands of twirling towels or interminable drumming but rather the protean zone. Force to protect the plate and working against a run deficit conspired to leave them hacking at Westbrook’s sinker. Only Jason Varitek lofted a pitch far enough to evade Cleveland’s outfield gloves; his four-bagger to center halved the gap in the seventh. No Red Sox player would reach base after the Tribe’s bullpen toed the rubber.
Even in Toronto, where I am at the moment, I couldn’t avoid hearing about the Red Sox. The guy who brought me my breakfast saw my Red Sox shirt and tried to commiserate. I changed the topic and blathered about Rogers Centre, which I had toured the day before.
At the conference I attended I heard a cluster of people babbling about the game. I assiduously avoided them, but did overheard these gems: “Once they hit that two-run homer....” “They’ve broken my heart too many times....”
I guess the latter person conveniently forgot about 2004. It’s to the point I can’t talk with normal people about this team; I lurk on SoSH and Royal Rooters. Even when I’m in another country, I’m not alone in my misery.
