Sunk
| Game 11: April 11, 2008 | |||
 Yankees |
4 | W: Chien-Ming Wang (3-0) | 6-5, 2 game winning streak |
| Red Sox | 1 | L: Mike Timlin (0-1) | 5-6, 1 game losing streak |
| Highlights: Last night was Native American Day at Fenway Park and Jacoby Ellsbury, a member of the Navajo Nation, didn’t make an appearance in the game. It’s unlikely that he or anyone else could have improved upon Coco Crisp’s 1-for-4 showing given Wang’s dominance. The Yankee ace ended the evening with a meager two hits (one a J.D. Drew homer, the only Boston run) encumbering his line, with no walks, three strikeouts, and 93 pitches to his credit. | |||
The loudest my section (5 in the right field grandstand) got besides cheering for J.D. Drew’s solo shot into the Red Sox bullpen was when a rambunctious female Yankee fan got booted. At first she wasn’t swearing or disrespecting Boston players or fans, merely shouting for her team (“Hip, hip, Jorge!” “I love you, Bobby!”) fueled by some liquid courage.
When the bases were loaded with Yankees in the eighth, however, she proved to be equally soused. Drunkenness claimed the better part of common sense and she got into yelling matches with Red Sox fans in the vicinity. Fenway security descended upon her and when she refused to leave the stadium with her Boston Police officers took more forceful measures.
If only there were some policing of Boston batters’ impatience: 17 times Chien-Ming Wang used three or fewer pitches against them in an at bat. Twice this resulted in success as Drew’s homer came on the second pitch and Coco Crisp’s bunt single on the first pitch caught the Yankees unawares. Since Wang’s control is so impeccable, it’s difficult to fault the Red Sox for aggressively going after the first pitch as they would otherwise fall behind in the count. Had a few of the shots to the outfield found the gaps or grabbed the wall, there would have been more baserunners in the home team’s favor. Such is the quandary when facing a sinking fastball of Wang’s caliber.
Clay Buchholz showed promise but not polish in his six innings of work. He was sharp for the first few innings, but as the pitch count increased he began to miss the zone with his fastball. In the fifth inning alone he had all three of his bases on balls.
When attending such losses in person the best memories often happen off the field. Before the game at Gate E throngs of fellow fans milled about hoping to be amongst the first into the park. A Fenway employee came out and spotted a family. “Who’s your favorite player?” he quizzed two boys.
“Big Papi!” exclaimed one while the other hollered “David Ortiz!”
“Well, I have a surprise for you. I was in the park during batting practice and this ball,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ball scuffed with grass stains, “was just hit against the Green Monster by Big Papi. It bounced off and rolled right toward me.”
The kids were too stunned to speak. “What do you say?” prompted their father.
After gulping down their astonishment after a few they finally managed, “Thank you... thank you so much.”
“You two are going to have to share it, okay?” said the attendant before heading back into the park.
“Okay!” agreed the older boy, though his younger brother didn’t look entirely convinced by this eager affirmation.
Years from now, this is what will be remembered, not the loss.
