In their last ten games, the Yanks have gone 7-3. As of this moment, no other team in baseball (except for the Padres at 8-2) has a better record over their last ten. But the Yanks have gained no ground over that stretch, as the Red Sox have also gone 7-3. Nice touch!

The Sox have the second-best record in baseball, behind only the Cubs. We also still have the best home record in baseball. We also have a 10-2 record in games started by opposing left-handed pitchers, which is way better than league average (a little over .500).

Every team in the AL East has a winning record in one-run games except Toronto.

Dave O'Brien recently said that the Sox in interleague play, and I paraphrase, "... have done incredibly well the last few years, and really since the beginning of interleague play." He's right about the first part, but is way off on the second part. I'm very surprised Castiglione didn't correct him on that one. I mean, the recent success has brought the overall record up, but to not point out how crappy we did in the first few years (forced to play two series' against our "natural" rival, the Braves) is to leave out an important part of the story. It's like saying, "in the last 32 years, only one team has won more World Series than the Red Sox." Yes, it's true, but it leaves out the fact that for the first 28 of those years, we didn't win any and hadn't won since 1918.

I hate when I'm standing up and clapping for the final strike of the game, and the other team ties it up. That's pretty rare, especially with Pap on the mound. But that was a great job by Youk and Coco going back to back in the tenth. Youk jumped for joy on Coco's dong. He usually only jumps on to post-season series clinching piles.

Watch the 2004 World Series celebration. Youk comes running in, tries to jump on everyone--but they all move, and lands off to the side. I always thought that was hilarious. He reminds me of Glen Goldstein. Who you don't know.

We're still 1.5 games up with the rubber game against the Reds tomorrow.

Softball tonight. First AB, I get under one as I often do and pop it up, but it falls into shallow right for a hit. Second AB, I hit a rocket over the right fielder's head (I bat left, throw right), but it's backed up by the right-center fielder, holding me to another single, though I probably would've gone for and had two if the runner in front of me hadn't stopped at second. We lose, like, 20-5.

After our game, I saw the end of Sox-Reds at a friend's house. This friend only got into baseball in the last few years. So we're watching, and the announcers are talking about interleague play, and my friend asks, fairly confident she'll get a positive answer, "now these games don't count in the standings, right?"

See, Bud, even a new fan who's yet to be brainwashed by MLB and FOX takes the perfectly sane point of view that games between leagues who don't play by the same rules, in an unbalanced and often random-seeming manner should NOT count. I've been saying this since the day they came up with this stupid idea and it has nothing to do with how my team has faired in it. But it always makes me more mad when the Sox lose in interleague play, and the Yanks win. Which is what happened tonight. Terrible Joba finally pitches well, but doesn't get the W, meaning Hughes, Kennedy, and Chamberlain still have zero wins as starters, and it's mid-June.

Sox still up 1.5 games in the east over Tampa. Oh, and it's good to hear Tito coming out and saying how he, too, hates interleague play.

Click here for info.

I went to Cooperstown for it in 2005 and had a ball. Terrible job (and terrible excuse) by Selig to end this tradition.

All of Jere-land (me and Kim) is ecstatic over the game we just watched. And laughing our asses off at the cocky Hollywood Fakers and their phony actor and actress fans! I hope all Laker-haters will join me in celebration and loud prayer to the round-ball gods and goddesses.

The Lakers were up by, what, a thousand points in the first freakin' quarter? Van Gundy even proclaimed the game OVER in the FIRST quarter. These same announcers acted like game two was over when the Celts had a big lead in the FOURTH quarter. You'd think they would've learned that NBA teams can come back in a few minutes, so of course they can do anything given three quarters.

And they were talking about the game like it WAS over, calling it a "dominating performance." I don't know about you, but I've seen enough basketball in my life to know that that first quarter score did not show the whole truth. The Celts couldn't possibly keep missing every shot. And the Fakers couldn't possibly continue to throw up shots behind their heads and make every single one. I'm not gonna say I KNEW the Celts would come back and win, but I definitely wasn't turning the TV off. Even before halftime the Celts proved they weren't going to let the big deficit get to them.

That was really fun. I'd be happy if it was any team the Lakers were CHOKING IN THE FINALS against, but it was extra-cool that it was Kim's favorite team, and the exciting team I've followed all year.

You know, I was thinking before this series, Kobe, or "Be-Rod," as I like to call his arrogant ass, may be this great "closer" and all, and I'm not gonna say his championships were flukes or anything (even though without Shaq, I mean, come on...), but did he ever play in a Finals where he KNEW everyone was watching? This is Boston, Not L.A. Uh...I mean, this is Boston vs. L.A. Think Kobe's been thinking a little too hard on this one? Gettin' the shakes? Ah? Ah? Terrible job, Kobe. Way to disappear in the biggest game of your life! One more loss by the Yellow Yanks and it's ovah!

Also, suck it, Jack Nicholson, Wil Smith, Leo DiCaprio, Sly, etc, etc, and DONALD SUTHERLAND who likes to sit incognito. We know it's you! You're lucky you played the curator of the Springfield Museum or I'd really be pissed at you! Oh, and JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE (yeah, you're from Los Angeles), and SPIIIIKKKKE LLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEE, eat it--you know, I only tell people I like your movies, they're really shit, hahahahahaha. Go .500 Yankees! Joba, baby! Way to wear all your Yankee gear so EVERYONE IN THE BUILDING CAN SPOT THE LOSER. Where's that Knicks uni? Hey, and if the Lakers aren't in it, you've always got the Clippers as a back-up, because it's all about you, celebs. You always WIN. You are the .. best .. people .. in .. the .. world. ...

Even without their spiritual leader or technical captain on the play field, the Bostons were too much for the Baltimores in the Fens to-night. The Hub heroes were more robust with the wood, and "Wicked" Lester's brilliant boxwork had the Balti-birds introducing heads to walls.

Only a select few Franconamen had been permitted by Guthrie to safely roam the base-paths before the fifth. It was then that Ellsbury got the tally-fest started with a quarter-dong. The shining star of recent weeks, Drew, put men on second and third with a deuce. The Mid-Atlantic Aves then had to bite the bullet, relinquish first base to the Amazing Manny at no cost, and take their chances with Lowell. The third sacker imposed tribulation upon the Mary-landers, as he lofted a majestic one over the Wall and into the league's most expensive cheap seats for the elusive Grand Dong.

The Charm City Air-Kitties tried a come-back a frame later, knocking Lester around, but nowhere near to the lengths his lymphoma did. And like the kid beat cancer in the end, he'd also get a W against these O's.

Two more big blasts were added to the fusillade of New Englanders' hits in the late innings. The Swingin' Sweater Youkilis scaled the Monster in the seventh, and Drew pulled one to the neck-craners in right in the eighth, each plating himself and another man.

Neither Delcarmen nor Timlin allowed a hit in his three outs of work, and before two and three-quarter hours had passed, the Bostons claimed victory, 9 to 2.

Now it's on to Cincinnati, O., where the first-place Bostons have not met the Redlegs since 1975 in that season's Fall Classic.

Ryan, who you know from comments, and who is the reigning Kwiz Champ, writes the blog Topography of Ignorance. It's really fun.

Ish, who I know from Joy of Sox gamethreads, takes some great photgraphs. Here's his site.

I thought I had some more...I'll have to remember them for later.

Guthrie/Lester at SIX OH FIVE tonight.

We have galleys! Also known as advance reading copies of our book, Dirty Water: A Red Sox Mystery (by me, Jere Smith, and my mom, "real" writer Mary-Ann Tirone Smith). We'll be sending out copies to some of your more famous types hoping to get some good quotes. My mom has some great connections what with her being a legit author for the last few decades. So we know we'll get some good ones--in fact, we already have gotten some that appear on the galley itself, from Allan Wood (Joy of Sox), Jeff Goldberg (Hartford Courant), and Karen Olson (mystery writer). As well as a couple quotes hyping my blog from Michael Leggett (Random Fandom) and John Quinn (Quinn Media Machine). Thanks to all of those people, and we'll see who else we'll end up with... (Amazing Larry called it a real snoozer...and no that's not the "real" cover in the pic, obviously.) The book will be available in August despite the "official" pub. date of September. Lots more news to come.

Last night, the Institute for International Sport (whose publishing arm is Hall of Fame Press, the publisher of our book) held the launch party for the '08 US Scholar-Athlete Games in Providence. I went down and met my mom there (she was honored as "author of the year"), and we got to meet your favorite ex-senator and mine, George Mitchell, who delivered the keynote address. He was really nice, accepted our galley, and told me he'd gone to a couple of Sox games this past weekend. It was weird to be one minute shaking hands with "the senator" while a cameraman filmed away, and then next wiping your mouth with your tenth napkin over at Johnny Rocket's. (They have an awesome veggie burger now).

Anyway, George is a pretty funny guy. During his speech he talked about growing up the younger brother of super-athletes who were local legends. As he grew up he realized he couldn't play like his siblings, and quickly became known as "Johnny Mitchell's little brother, the one who's no good." So now he's quite proud to be elected into the Scholar-Athlete Hall of Fame--he finally has something he can rub in their faces, sports-wise. (But come on, how many pages is the Johnny Mitchell Report?)

On evenings when the Baltimores and Bostons of the American League get together, the bulk of patrons gathered 'round the diamond cheer on the World's Champs. Down south, it's a throng of road-weary pilgrims all in red constituting the noisies. In this fair city, it's the lucky thirty-grand from surrounding neighborhoods that comprise the crowd. Either way, Francona's men feel quite at home when their sights are filled with icterus galbulae.

Those who secured a scannable slab for to-night's tryst were rewarded handsomely. Hispaniola's Colon showed the form that made him the league's top tosser a few years back, as he's been wont to do since donning the red socks. Other clubs were non-believers, but the Boston brass took a high view on Colon, perhaps finding inspiration from the fact that the portly pitcher was born in the town of Altamira. The only O-bird to touch home on Colon's watch was Luke Scott, who propelled himself from batter's box to home plate on a single cut. The rest of the group looked as if their hitting implements had been infected with anthrax.

The pitching was done pressure-free, as the Bostons racked up a fin in the first. Blazing Drew knocked in young Navajo Ellsbury and scored on a feral ball, before the Captain put a charge into one, over the Wall-seats and into the auto-stalls for three points. Lowell did his own dong with the sacks hollow in the sixth to end the Bostons' above-average attack. Six to three in favor of the Fenway-men was the final tally in the run column. Timlin got caught in a mosh in the final frame, and Pedroia failed to check the sphere's forward movement on a dirt-skipper that initially looked like Baltimore's death knell. Papelbon's usage was necessitated, and the last out came rather quick. Cheer upon cheer went up for the victors, who moved two games ahead of the Tampa squad.

The New-York Americans were croaked in Oak-town later in the night, falling an unfortunate seven games behind.

Kim has topped herself once again with a soap that looks like....this:



It's called Carrie. Get it, with the blood and whatnot? And it smells like those little ice cream cups your mom used to buy that had the strawberry (or chocolate) swirl in it. I've wanted to eat all her soaps, but this one I almost had to. Here's the link to her site.

And since you'll probably read it over there anyway, I guess I'll say it here: We're moving to Rhode Island! In a few months.... It will be my fourth state in four calendar years.

Sox vs. O's tonight. I'll miss this one since I'll be at an event in Providence that has nothing to do with us moving there. But supposedly I'm gonna meet George Mitchell. Since it's a Rhode Island event, we're hoping Kapstein makes an appearance before heading up to Fenway.

Father Fahrenheit floated his flag high at the Fenway park tonight as the Bal'mer Birds finally flew past the Francona-men. In the great stand, ink symbols abound, as the girls bared skin from cleavage to coin-slot, and many gentlemen peeled off clothing 'til only short pants and sandals remained. Ice creams became soup on their journey from hand to mouth, while Okajima melted on the hillock. When the last spent patron exited the gate out into the Commonwealth capital's cowpath cauldron, the scoreboard read: Orioles 10 runs and the locals just six.

Beckett was a toasty Texan to-night, the sun still smiling when six o'clock rang. Double doubles in the second frame put the Maryland nine ahead by four to one. Two roll-outs by Red Sox brought home runners to close the deficit to a measly run in the third, and when centre-fielder Crisp ran down a long ball straight away, it seemed the tide had turned toward the distinguished men in Red.

As it turns out, it had, as the sixth brought a hit parade to Boston-town. Drew lit a match to the noise keg with a two-ribbie dong over the bull pens. The Amazing Manny followed suit, reaching the chairs atop The Wall, and putting him above the ol' Oriole, the flip-flopper Murray, on the all-time chart of homers.

The lead held 'til Okajima trudged through the door and into the fire. His symptoms were too many to describe, and his volleys were launched to the out-field when they weren't drifting wide of the strike zone. Two men were allowed first for free, and two more earned their way on, and the teams were nodded at six scores apiece. All New England cooed for his extinction, but "Tito" hung on to Hideki one batsmen too long. Former hometown hero Millar put one far enough out on the grass for his runner to come in from third base with the backbreaker.

The "other" Manny relieved too late, and the ash-wielders of this town would not plate anymore. Young Hansen let the Birds do as they wished with the pellet in the last inning, taking any remaining hope away from the roasting rooters. Markakis and Huff batted a lucky seven hits between them in this session, and Sarfate, one of a half-dozen mounders used by the Orange Birds, got credit for the victory. The Bostons stayed atop the eastern list by one game, as the Tampas were turned back in Los Angeles by the Angels.

For all your PawSox needs, visit Baseball Heavy. In the meantime, click to aggrandize these shots I took at McCoy Stadium last night.
Pretty funny logo on this dude's shirt. The Buffalo Bisons are the Indians' AAA team.

John Halama has a job. It's with the Bisons.

I got to the stadium pretty early, so I walked around and took some shots of the place while I waited for Kim to arrive. Here's Marty Barrett in the parking lot. For more ex-player shots, go to the gallery from the PawSox game I went to last year.

The back of the grandstand.

Looking down at the winding walkway--be careful on that top level!

View from the first base side.

The big tent down the right field line.

Another stadium shot. It was, like, 100 degrees, but we were in the shade.

The crowd wasn't too much bigger than this when the game started.

I love this standings board! Get the ladder!

Looking through the tunnel.

Clay Buchholz was starting for Pawtucket. Got a bunch of pre-game shots of him, some of which will go un-captioned. I love the shadows at this park!




Despite limited advertisement, it was indeed "Red Sox Legends Night." Legend number one was Tommy Harper. Great to see that the Red and Paw Sox have welcomed him with open arms lately, as opposed to the old days when he was treated like dirt for not being white. Legend number two was fan- and me-favorite Lou Merloni.

Again, these shadows rule.

Clay on the mound.

Sometimes-major leaguer Jason Tyner is retied to start the game. Chad "C-Spann" Spann makes the play. I hope he leaves the organization and comes back for the CSPANN-2 nickname.

More Double-H action.

Clay's shadow, taller than his so-oo-oul.

My man Joe Thurston! It was effing hot.

Joe can pop up at any level, unfortunately.

Clam, crab, cockle, Lowrie.

I assume this coach is former major leaguer and Sparky Anderson-favorite Torey Lovullo, or as I used to call him back when I was just a real-life person and blogs didn't exist, "Torey Love You High, Love You Low."

I love the number 80. It's not seen too often in the sport of baseball. Nice job by this Bison. You know I actually have a friend who is a Buffalo Bisons fan? At least he was in middle school. I think he had family up there, because he was also a Bills fan.

My last Fenway game was Chris Carter's MLB debut. He's back in AAA now. I love watching his quirks when he's up. He does a little fly-swat move with his hands. And of course, he does it every time, the exact same way. He would hit a dong in this game, the only real offense for the PawSox.

Dusty Brown. At one point the sky was kind of a dusty brown while his name was up on the scoreboard in front of it.

Shadows at about the longest they can go before the sun goes down.

Crazy cloud.

Jon Van Every up.

Night falls on the smallest state. Joe Thurston's at the plate.

Another sky shot.

The PawSox' submariner, Jose Vaquedano.

Kim headed for home in the eighth, and I headed for better seats, though we could've done this at any time. This dude is Aaron Herr. After going through the standard Aaron Burr jokes, it hit me. When I was a kid, the Cardinals had Tommy Herr. I said to Kim, I wonder if this is Tom Herr's kid. He proceeded to smash a double to right-center off Clay, at which point I said, Oh yeah, this is Tom Herr's kid. He'd add another hit and, shortly after I took this pic, a mega-dong to left. I can't figure out his tattoo, but it looks like it could be "DISCIPLE." Oh, and I looked it up to make sure, and yes, it's Tommy Herr's boy.

Chris Smith, whose pic I took at Fenway when he was called up (he never got in a game) recently, closed out the game for Pawtucket. He entered to Pennywise's wordy but heartfelt "anthem," Bro Hymn. (I put anthem in quotes because I only count a song as an anthem when it happens organically. That song was clearly written for the purposes of becoming an anthem. But I'm not knockin' 'em, it is about people who died and stuff--and later the guy who wrote it died, giving new meaning to the tune.) Chris is from SoCal, home of Pennywise, so maybe he was a surf/skate-nu-punk growing up in the 90s. Or maybe the song was picked at random, I have no clue.

Moon over McCoy. By the end all you could hear was the group of guys who'd obnoxiously shout out stupid things on each batter, like, "Hey 22, you know what to do!" In classic-me style, those guys were three rows behind me. If there's one asshole among thousands, they'll find me, and stand right behind me. They were actually part of the reason I moved to different seats. But it was dead silent by the last batter, so their unoriginal taunts were heard by the whole city.

They interviewed Aaron Herr after the game, and these two dudes, not much younger than me, ran down to the front row and started yelling at him while he was trying to hear the questions! It was like the Pawtucket Gang or something. And they had a couple more friends waiting for them when they finished their heckling! They seemed genuinely mad that some guy would come in to their park and beat their team and then answer questions when asked. It was weird. Final score: Buffalo 10, Pawtucket 3.

The PawSox got killed. We had fun, though, in the sweltering weather. Pics to come later. (Yes, there were "legends." I guess they just decided to do hardly any advertising for the event.)

Two days ago, Mariano Rivera gave up a ninth-inning homer with the game tied. Just now, he did it again! 3-2 KC, going bottom 9. (Michael Kay did note that he did enter the game with the same "grace and class" as usual.)

Update: And just like that other time Mo gave up the dong, the Yanks get a swinging bunt in the bottom half, and it's one on, no out.

Update: Mat-screwy flies out, one away in the bottom of the ninth, Sultan of Shot coming up.

Update: The mustachioed, thong-wearing, admitted cheater walks on four pitches. 1st and sec, one out.

Update: Cano Ks, two out.

Update: Royals' super-closer Soria hits Chad Moeller with the first goddamn pitch. Loaded for Melky, two outs, 3-2 KC. Swinging bunt, walk, hit by pitch. Say it with me everybody: TYPICAL YANKEE RALLY. (TYR)

Final Update: Melky hits a slow dribbler up the first base line. The Royals somehow successfully complete the play, 3-1 on the putout. Barely. Yanks lose!!! Hahaha. I'm off to Pawtucket...

The Yanks tie it, 2-2. Stupid Royals.

Olivo with a two-run dong off the Moose-hide (because he's just a shell of what he once was, huh? Huh?) with two out in the seventh, and KC leads it 2-0.

Michael Holley was just making fun of me on the air! I called in to try to win Red Sox tix for tomorrow--one of the games I just mentioned in the last post. I got through on my Skype, and the guy tells me I'm caller number 8. I didn't even realize that was the right number, so I asked the guy if I was the winner. He says, NO sir, you're caller number 8. I'm sitting there like, what the hell does that mean. Then he hangs up.

Okay.... so they get back on the air, and Holley's goin, "some guy just hung up on RED SOX tickets!" What the freak? I was the right caller, and they didn't even say "you won!" The way I see it, I DID WIN......

Ah, well, I consider it just another "victory" (even though I got no prize) in my lifelong record of being the correct caller at an unbelievable rate. I just hope they weren't box seats....

It's 100 degrees in Boston! (But it "feels like" 104...)

Tuesday and Thursday nights' games vs. Balty have been moved up to 6:05. Here's your chance to buy a 20-dollar standing room ticket and sit wherever you want for the first hour--and the last hour when people leave to go watch the Celtics game. Redsox.com, right now, standing room and RF grandstand available for the whole series. (Or be a fool and go to the scalping sites and get the "best deal" for way over face value.)

Oh, and did you notice, after Rondo's worn the headband upside-down for the whole season and playoffs, he had it on right-side up for Game 1? He had it back to "normal" for Game 2....

<---LIES!!! Yesterday after Joba gave up 3 runs in 4 1/3 innings, I found it interesting that the guy on WCBS news acted quite happy about it when he gave the sports update. "Joba does LESS shitty!" Then I go to the Daily News site just now, and I see a picture of a fist-pumping Joba with another positive headline about the Slut "starting to make the grade." Then I look next to that and see what I've cut-and-pasted at left. Joba pitches 4 2/3 scoreless innings?? Did I miss something? This is still up nearly 24 hours after the game, and is still telling the casual (90 percent of Yankee fans) fan that Joba Chamberlain pitched half the game, and didn't give up any runs. Instead of the truth, which is that he gave up 3 runs, 2 earned, on five hits in less than five innings. Curtain call!

Again, I love it when Yankee fans are totally content, even ecstatic about a pitcher giving up runs at a rate of 6 per 9 innings. They are completely delusional. They live in a fantasy land where they win every game. Joba is in the Hall of Fame, right next to Hughes and Kennedy and Brien Taylor and Andy Hawkins. Fine with me.

Anyway, the News' convenient mistake came from the fact that the relievers pitched 4 2/3 scoreless innings, not Joba. (But I can't explain why the corresponding picture shows him celebrating like he's just cured world hunger. For clamping down the Royals in early June, where "clamping down" equals not making it out of the fifth inning.)

I love it when it's hot. Cold is winter--when it's summer, give me all-time record heat. The kind you might actually die from. And then a huge rainstorm at the end of the day that you can stand out in and be totally comfortable. We were down in CT this weekend, and that's the weather we got. The storms were crazy, too. Saturday night there was lightning that lit up the sky from a storm 30 miles away. And today, one of the worst (meaning best) thunder/lightning/downpour -fests I've ever been in the middle of. We also got to see cousin Kara and fam since they are Connecticutians now.

J.D. Drew is becoming more likable every day, eh? I didn't just automatically start liking him when he hit the Game 6 grand dong--I'm not a Yankee fan. But he seems to be playing the way he has shown signs of playing like throughout his career. Just in time, too. And Masterson is kicking butt. Another win today, making us the first 40-win team in the majors (since tied by the Cubs).

The Yanks have also been encouraging (from my perspective), with terrible starting pitching. Yes, they got the W the last two days. But more importantly, Pettitte gives up 10 earned runs, and Terrible Joba throws a slightly polished version of the turd he dropped in his first start. They're tied for fourth, still 6.5 back of us.

It's weird to say this (and NESN should be noticing that this is being said), but it was refreshing to have a Fox game Saturday, to see the classic center field camera angle at Fenway. Manny's dong that day, the one that the attendant got, how sweet did that look from the "classic" angle? Seeing the replay of it today during the NESN game made me realize how much I miss it. Some dude called up the radio and complained, and the host dismissed him with a, "get used to it." But that's the thing: Since it only happens at home, meaning half of all games, we can't get used to it. Maybe the casual fan doesn't give a crap or even notice, but I kind of like to have an idea of where the ball's going when it's hit, and when the camera is in a completely different place for some games than it is in others, it can be hard to tell. For example, on the old angle, a ball hit right at the camera on the ground is probably fielded by the shortstop. On the new, it goes through for a base hit. I hate that I have to get in to the mode of that day's camera angle each time. And if you're switching back and forth between a Fenway NESN game and another game, it's even more confusing. I know all CF camera positions are a little different, but for the most part, they're all roughly, uh, a few dozen feet to the left of center.

Celts beat the Lakers to go up 2-0. Gotta stink of you're LA and you came all the way back to almost tie the game at the end, only to still find yourselves down two-zip. Did you see the big dog before the game on TV? That main autograph hound who camps out by the Red Sox players' parking lot was on the pre-game show. Why? Because they ran a short piece on Kobe walking around near the Common, and who's the "random" fan that "happened" to be walking right beside him? Mr. Autograph. The guy clearly makes a living doing this. I put a picture of him up once here, you can search for it if you like, but I don't like to draw attention to the guy...for my own safety. I feel like he's the type of dude who if he gets mad at you would be all "I'll kill you, I don't care if I go to jail!" And I feel like he'd probably want to keep his profile low and I don't want to piss him off.

I'm going to the PawSox game Monday night, so look for pix of that--bucHHolz is pitching. When I bought the tickets months ago, I was told by the Pawtucket newsletter I got in the mail that it would be "Red Sox Legends Night." But I've seen no mention of it on their site! I want some legends! I was promised legends! And don't be breakin' out Roger LaFrancois and telling me he's one. But considering the fact that there's no sign of this event existing, I'd settle for ol' RF at this point.

Red Sox win in front of a packed house with dongs and other real hits. Yanks win on swinging bunts and stuff in front of a bunch of empty blue chairs. In other words, a day went by in America.

But hey, you can't blame them for leaving early on such a lousy day and with the game being such a blowout.... ??????