you smell that?

that, my friends, is the smell of victory. i had almost forgotten. like when the first sweet smells of Spring remind you of life & beauty, as the world wakes up from it's long Winter's nap, and you breathe deeply of the warm, fresh air.

i *could* lament such things as the fact we've now learned Speedy McEllsbury's weakness, not being able to lay off high fastballs. or how the Sox find themselves with multiple bases-loaded opportunities in seemingly each game they play, yet come away from them empty-handed with alarming frequency.

but nope!

today it's all about last night.
and winning.
oh, the winning.

1. there was Joshy's shaky start. fifty pitches over the first two innings. back-to-back walks. giving up his one-run lead as soon as he got it. but then he got angry, as only he can, and he went out there all Commander Kick Ass on them, giving up four hits, and two walks over his six innings pitched, but with eight Ks & only one vested base runner crossing the home plate he set out to protect tonight.

2. then there was the opposing pitcher. one formidable Scott Kazmir. who so often makes the Sox look foolish, dropping silly games to a cellar dweller. maddening. (Maddon-ing? never mind. i'm probably the only one who finds that funny.) as the illustrious Rays announcers informed us, pre-game, "Scotty almost always beats the Boston Red Sox." or well... he'd gone 6-4 before last night, which is barely better than winning half his games, but the fact stands that he still makes the Sox look like Little Leaguers much of the time. Kaz took the L for the night, after pitching only five innings, but make no mistake that he hit the showers with no fewer than *nine* Ks notched on the ol' Kane's strike out board. one more and he would have bought free Papa John's pizzas for everyone himself.

3. ok. seriously. so Youk is still out, after Wang plunked him on the wrist last weekend. and apparently because our walking target isn't available to be picked on, the Rays just decided to make everyone else pay? three hit Sox last night. *three*!! two in the same inning even! Hiske, Tek & Pedroia. thankfully everyone was ok, because we are running low on first basemen, we would later be thrilled by Tek's bat bringing insurance, and there is no question at this point that we need Pedroia's scrappiness. but enough hitting our players!

(3a. after Pocket took his HBP in the ninth, Francona & a trainer walked him down to first base, checking on him. the wee scrapper is tough though, and he was laughing & talking to Tito as they made their way to the bag. i would *love* to know what Pedroia said to his manager though, just as they arrived, because it resulted in a smack on the back side of his batting helmet.)

4. just like Joshy got off to an ugly start, so did the offense. (suffice to say i started this game rather discouraged.) at least the ugliness still afforded some runs though. the Sox couldn't hit the ball, but they could get hit *by* the ball. and they could collect walks, advance on throwing errors, and score on wild pitches. and then it was like the gears caught in the machine. Joshy started pitching like he meant it, and the Sox sunk their teeth into the soft underbelly of the Rays bullpen. Tek banged a solo shot deep into the right field seats in the eighth. in the ninth, Ellsbury drew a walk, and Pedroia took his for the team. and once again, i spoke to Papi via my Magic TV, proclaiming (more like pleading), "ok, Big Man, this where you take this one out of the park..." and there she went. which seemed to awaken something in my poor Mike Lowell, striking out again & again last night, even losing his cool and yelling at himself back in the dugout, because he watched Papi's ball sail out, and it was like a light bulb went off -- "hey! i can do that!" -- and he did. it absolutely melted me to see the ear-to-ear grin break out over Papi's face as he hurried out of the dugout to greet Lowell, all smiles, as Papi & Lugo sandwiched him, hugging & jumping & celebrating for him.

5. speaking of Papi & hurrying. (do not adjust your computer screens. those two words are, in fact, in the same sentence on purpose.) in the fifth, Papi actually beat out a throw to first, thus collecting an infield single. you don't see *that* every day. or like, ever. even with a busted up knee, Papi has hustle.

6. how about that Jacoby Ellsbury catch in the fifth! crashing through the Sox chairs, gear & benches bullpen, sliding through the warning track "dirt", and still coming up with the ball in his glove for the foul territory out. the way he shook his head, as he headed back onto the field, i am pretty sure he was seeing stars & tweety birds circling his head. man, can that kid play. the way he & Coco kick up the speed & cover ground to catch fly balls, it's almost like having that third outfielder is an unfair advantage for us.

7. i almost feel bad for laughing at this, but late in the game, Staaaaaaats (i think) said, "you know, when you have seventeen strike outs for the night, you'd think you would be winning." can you imagine...? the Sox struck out SEVENTEEN times, and still won the game 8-1. on the topic of strike outs, the Rays lead the league in both strike outs (pitching - Kazmir has collected the most strike outs for 2007, thus far) *and* striking out (hitting). what a waste of good pitching, huh? one more thing about Ks, then we'll move along: it was either the fifth inning or the ninth (i can't recall now & i wasn't taking notes, too busy praying for a win), one of the Rays buffoons announced that the Rays had just struck out the side. i found this humorous, simply because while they did in fact strike out the side, they also gave up runs as well. the triumphant way in which it was declared, you would have thought the Sox had gone down in order, not that the Rays had actually dug a bigger hole for themselves, despite striking out the side.

8. this little tidbit from Extra Bases is... gross. almost as gross as the clear shot i got of Tek coughing up a lung & then spitting it out. "There are two dead mice in the far end of the Sox dugout. The furry critters stepped in one of those sticky traps and expired. As of 6:20 p.m. they had not been removed from the dugout." seriously though, it looked like Tek was about to throw up a hairball. why did the camera man stay focused on that?? (i say camera man because no way a woman would have left the camera there. no.way.)

9. i had mild heart attacks when MDC & Javier Lopez were making their respective ways to the mound, which proved unwarranted as they got the job done beautifully. then when Gagne got the nod in the ninth, i was back to my fixation on the screen & willing those pitches to do what they were supposed to. i realize that we put him in with a seven-run lead & all, but i was thrilled for his clean inning, and hopeful that this could be the catalyst that sets him straight. something feel-good, something that *should* happen easily for him, but has eluded him mercilessly. something that can maybe set his train back on the tracks just when it becomes most crucial. in a way, his outing last night was like a microcosm of what i also hope this win was for the Red Sox in general.

10. what is the deal with Yankees games taking an infinity to finish when the Sox play the Rays? when i was at that game in July, it was like time had stopped in the Yankees-Orioles game. the innings began to drag out, longer & longer, as every Sox fan kept that score in their peripheral vision, waiting for that F to pop up in place of the inning number, each of us holding our breath as the Yankees added runs to the score... and the cheer when it *finally* ended with a Baltimore victory. last night's Yankees-Jays game did actually take several lifetimes to end though. what was once a 4-0 game for Toronto became a 4-4 game in the ninth... and the tenth... and the twelfth... i was dying a little with each Toronto out & clinging to each one made by the Evil Empire. fourteen innings it took to complete that game. and the Jays pulled it off with a Gregg Zaun solo homer!

you know what this means, folks? twenty wins for Joshy. TWENTY. the only one in MLB. and Wang, who pitched last night in the Bronx stays stranded at eighteen. but even better than that is to see the distance between Boston & New York increasing ever so slightly. two-and-half games is one better than we were feeling before the games started.

i don't know what it was: knowing our ace (oh c'mon, even Schill knows it's true at this point), our *stopper* was going tonight, Kazmir or not... knowing this team has too much talent (even with quite a bit of it sidelined with battle wounds) to keep losing for long... or maybe Tito's PTI interview, during which he stated with more passion than i've heard from him in a long time: "When we lose, I want everyone to lose. There aren't enough teams in baseball." anyway, whatever it was, something made me feel good about last night. that the buck stops here. the nonsense ends. the Sox would win. because it's go time & they have to.

or maybe i just knew that if we didn't win on Friday, things would look very bleak with Matsuzaka pitching on Saturday, and his season long struggles against the Rays, and Wakefield on Sunday, when he hasn't looked like himself since returning from his back issues. both Sox pitchers should be able to win against the likes of Andy Sonnanstine & Edwin Jackon... but there are no guarantees. it seems our biggest hope right now is in New York where Shaun Marcum (12-6) will face Phil Hughes (4-3) this afternoon (and please let *this* game be done before the Sox start at 7:10!); Dustin McGowan (11-9) will pitch opposite the reborn Mike Mussina on Sunday; and then the Sox rest on Monday while we pray AJ Burnett brings the same game he did against us when he is matched up with Rog-ah.

pass the Tums. this last week of baseball is going to spawn half a dozen ulcers at best.