a tale of two games

ever since the ALCS match up was determined, i've been saying that this series is so evenly balanced, that i don't see how it will be decided in less than six games. i just don't think either team is going down without a fight. no sweeping. just an all out battle of wills from both sides. and i also thought we would leave Boston 1-1. the concept of beating both Sabathia *and* Carmona was hopeful but unrealistic.

so far, i'm right about the 1-1 thing. i hope the Sox come out ahead in the six-game gut feeling thing too. i have to admit though, i'm feeling ok about the way the series has started off. we took one game against one of the best starting pitchers in MLB this year, and we lost one as well. it was not an embarrassment to lose a game to a worthy opponent. the Sox played better in Game One, and i tip my cap to the Indians for being the better team last night.

the two games couldn't have possibly had more different personalities, above & beyond the final outcomes.

Game One seemed sewn up almost right from the start. it was another one of those "light on the stress meter" games that we saw in the ALDS. so non-stress, in fact, that Steven King was caught reading a novel in the stands during the game. seriously, anytime a Sox fan can focus on *anything* but the angst of playoff ball in Boston, you know there's something unusual afoot. as soon as the curtain fell on the Sox victorious on Friday night, i had the uneasy feeling that Saturday would not go quite as simply. if Game One was smooth sailing, Game Two was a grind. back and forth the lead went. for hours & hours. these supersize Saturday night playoff games are going to be the death of me. i won't even pretend that i watched the end of the game. everything was tied up at six in the ninth, and i was in bed listening to the tv. i faded in & out of wakefulness, and the next thing i knew, Trot had hit the ball in the eleventh inning, and the go-ahead run came home. it took me a minute to clear the fog & remember that Trot doesn't play for *us* anymore. i didn't really have to keep listening (though i did) because that gut feeling was already telling me this game was over. and so it was.

if Game One left me reveling in Joshy and feeling sympathetic for CC (just the way you want to feel during playoff baseball -- good about your ace, and bad for the opponent -- because it means you're on the right side of the score), Game Two left me bewildered. it should have been a pitchers duel, not a shootout. yet both tough starters found themselves out before the end of the fifth inning. there are just some things you get used to as a Sox fan. they do not include Schill not making a quality start, not throwing for Ks, and certainly not giving up more than a solo shot, if he's going to cough up a home run at all. i felt like one minute we were looking at fearsome starters, with the Sox bullpen band, passing the time with their percussion instruments, and the next, we were warming relievers. and it turns out that we didn't see the best of two typically effective relief squads. though my glasses were off & my consciousness negligible by the time we reached extra innings, i can't say as though i was impressed by what i saw & heard from either side. Game Two became a battle of offense, and Boston's failed to stay alive, unlike Game One, which seemed to hone in on the pitching, when we saw Gagne work his way out of a jam, despite some questionable fielding and a very inconsistent strike zone.

i almost can't believe we watched the same two teams play on both nights. the games seemed on such different ends of the spectrum.

some things, though, remain predictable. Buck & McCarver will continue to blow hot air, for the sheer joy of hearing their own voices -- a joy which i am willing to bet is not shared by many game viewers. we will hear about who is in the stands; inane ramblings about what the players are saying to one another, which i would almost bet are as inaccurate as when Buck informs us Schill wasn't actually hurt while on the DL; and commentary on the players' facial hair. never mind that there are pitches being thrown, and do-or-die baseball being played that at least some of us are far more interested in.

we also continue to be pleasantly surprised by the Sox new found ability to capitalize on bases-loaded opportunities. rather than leaving runners stranded, we're working walks with shocking consistency, and i have to tell you, while seeing Manny whack a grand slam would be great fun, i will still happily accept gift runs any way they come. it is certainly a far cry better than watching Manny strike out or worse yet, hit into an inning-ending double play. because, you know you're still cringing every time he steps into the batter's box after what we saw during the regular season. i know still am anyway. i also know that i can handle the pleasant surprise.

we keep seeing strong defense for the Sox. Manny & Drew coming up with beautiful catches on Friday. Pedroia & Lowell snagging line drives for outs on Saturday. and speaking of Lowell, he is still hitting effectively, driving in runs, fielding the ball like a human vacuum cleaner and hitting home runs out into the night. the chants of MVP & his slow burn smile in the dugout thrill me endlessly. and so i will take the opportunity to say yet again: SIGN. MIKE. LOWELL.

i love this game. i love these match ups with the best facing the best, and neither side willing to give in. i love the roar of the crowd, the fans sporting "Papelbon boxheads," and the vendors calling "Get yer steamin' hot chowdah he-yah!" in the way that encompasses all that October baseball should be -- at least if you bleed Boston red.

so, we lost in eleven innings last night, after an abysmal seven-run inning left us with the bitter taste of a 13-6 defeat. i'm not ready to forget that on Friday we *won* 10-3, that we played hard in both games, that the Indians are too good to be swept in four, and that Monday brings us another chance. we are heading for Cleveland exactly the way i hoped: not down two games, which was not out of the realm of possibility when you face the caliber of pitching the Indians bring to the table with *two* ace-quality starters.

we're still one win closer to the biggest prize than we were on Thursday. and i'm pleased with the fire my boys have shown, even in loss. so on that note, i leave you with the ever-optimistic: seven wins left to go.

optimism from a lifelong Sox fan. who knew?