Sux

i have to tell you, i pulled my head out of the sand upon returning home to Fenway just long enough to realize i should have stayed in my state of blissful denial that the Sox had returned from the All-Star Break.

ugh.

i can't even form complete baseball thoughts, so badly have the boys fried my brain with their maddening inability to string together more than two wins except against the American League cellar-dwelling Mariners, all the while allowing the freaking Sunbeams a two-game lead in the AL East and the Yankees to crawl within one game of us. a sweep tomorrow brings not only sick humiliation but sharing second place in the division with *them*. or will we actually fall to third... ::shudder::

since the return from the Mid-Summer Break, we've learned that...

...Tek caught that last game before the Break despite an infection that rendered him pretty much blind in his right eye: "It was the scariest game I've ever played."; that despite his painful slump Francona says "I won't hit for him. We need him. I believe in him. I will always believe in him. When times are tough, you don't waver from that. If we want to get where we ultimately want to get, the faith in him will bear itself out."; and Tek was able to hit a game-winning two-run homer, which if it made me feel that kind of relief, i can only imagine how it made him feel.

...Jacoby Ellsbury *can* be slowed down on the basepaths. by not getting on them. Friday night, Remy & Don were discussing what it might do to the kid's confidence if he were to get pushed way down in the line up after leading off the whole season. i am thinking that the fact he was kept out of the line up completely on Saturday might hurt worse than batting ninth. or perhaps that is part of the lesson to be learned by not playing at all for a game.

...it's just not a season if there is no Manny drama. he came up "lame" on Wednesday, then proclaimed himself unable to play the series opener against the Yankees on Friday during a hot divisional dog fight. after being sent for an MRI that came back clean, management finally reached a breaking point, leading to reports that "There are strong indications that if Manny Ramirez shows up at the park Saturday and pronounces himself unfit to play, the team will issue disciplinary actions which could include a suspension." amazingly enough, Manny was back on Saturday. healed? playing through whatever it is? i don't know. but it sure does feel like the front office is setting the table for not picking up that option for next year. or possibly even a trade deadline exit.

...the bullpen is determined to remain schizophrenic. and i continue to dread the moment i see a hand reach for the phone.

...Papi being back in the line up was not the answer to our disturbingly silent offense. i just pray that i can safely tack a 'yet' to the end of that sentence soon. nonetheless, it sure is good to hear the crowd chanting "Papi" again.

...Jed Lowrie is capable of making a strong case for himself at shortstop. i have seen him turn more plays & field more hits than balls that he dives for & misses or that inexplicably roll between his legs. and he's managing to get on base to boot. keep on showing 'em kid. please. that one glimpse of E6 (sporting the ugliest sunglasses i've ever seen) in the dugout was enough to remind me of things i would rather forget.

...Pedroia is a machine.

...Mike Lowell & i have something in common. you hear very little from both of us most days. not very big talkers. but when we reach the end of our fuses, POW! a terrible bottom of the ninth one-out strikeout call in Friday's game led to Lowell screaming in the face of the home plate umpire & ultimately his ejection from the game.

...Joba Chamberlain is actually even more despicable than i had imagined. i mean, seriously. after last season, he's going to take potshots at Youk's head again?? gimme a break. no matter what Remy said, i find it far too coincidental that somehow the ball only "slips" when Youk is at the plate. Craig Hansen plunking Slappy on Saturday, though, was about the furthest possible thing from intentional. no way could he land one on someone purposely the way he was unable to locate a single freaking pitch the whole time he was on the hill.

...Joe Buck & Tim McCarver make me yell at my tv. a lot.

...losing to the Yankees makes me, for lack of a better word, angry. i thought we were supposed to win at home? that was the only thing that got me through the road series which resulted in my head being buried in the sand.

with that, in Lestah we trust to bring sweet relief from this very unique form of hell. and no, i still can't believe how many times i've said that this season.

it's the end of July, boys. if you can't swing some mighty lumber & Lester can't right this ship starting *now*, you can find me out playing in traffic while you give away the division.