Stephen King - Faithful

It’s a foolish move. We jump all over reliever Jorge Sosa for five runs, including a drive to dead center by Manny that lands on the roof of the fancy restaurant out there, and go on to win 7–3 and clinch the wild card. See? That’s what happens when you go against the code.

And, ironically, since being on the same team overrides the code, during the locker-room celebration Manny hugs Terry Adams, who he came close to charging back in April after a little chin music.

It’s the late show of The Forgotten we go to, and in Bethel Station on a Monday night, my son and I are two of just six attendees. As we’re leaving, the guy cleaning up behind the candy counter tells me—casually—that the Red Sox were leading Tampa Bay by a score of 7–2 and he thinks that might be a final. Owen and I look at each other in delighted amazement, then hurry to his car and tune the radio to WOXO, Norway–South Paris (which advertises itself as Everybody’s Country…when, that is, they’re not broadcasting NASCAR racing, Boston Red Sox baseball, or Oxford Hills High School football). We discover that the game has indeed ended, and that the final score was 7–3. Bronson Arroyo hit a couple of batters (he leads the American League in that category), and Scott Kazmir retaliated. The umpires let him get away with drilling Manny Ramirez in the knee, but when Kazmir whacked Kevin “I Brake for High Cheese” Millar in the ribs, the kid was gone, taking an incipient no-hitter with him. [62] For the record, I think that hitting Millar was an accident. But, accident or on purpose, Kazmir did the Boston batters one hell of a favor by dealing himself out. Three or four home runs later (Manny hit number 43), the 2004 Red SoxParty Boys are in a clubhouse so wrapped in plastic it looks like a condom, laughing and shouting and pouring beer on each other.

They all acknowledge that the regular season isn’t over as long as catching the Yankees remains a technical possibility (by winning, the Red Sox cut the lead of the idle Yanks to three games, and in that light the two we lost to the awful El Birdos during the last home stand look bigger than ever), but in their raucous celebrating, there is an undeniable sense that they feel the real work is now done. Given their lackluster level of play in June and July, that is understandable. In some ways, they are lucky to be here at all.

SO:The Sox are sudsing Manny with champagne. I’m toasting them with ginger ale. I’ve got a bottle of bubbly downstairs, but I’m saving it for something bigger. Still, to make the playoffs with the injuries we’ve had, I’m proud of this club. They gave us a great summer. (The punch line: now for a great fall.)

Looks like Minnesota and the great Santana. I’d match him up with Schilling, just go after him. Too bad those games will be on the road.

SK:Mathematically, it was the weirdest clinch ever. [What Steve means is that we didn’t whittle our magic number down to zero. We’re still at 1, but because our competition for the wild card is Anaheim, that 1 assumes they win the rest of their games, three of which are against Oakland, who they’re only one game behind now, and if they do that, they win the West and Oakland becomes our already-defeated competition. So our wish from a few months ago has come true: the A’s and Angels knock each other off without even playing the games. Thank you, unbalanced schedule (and unbalanced schedule-makers).]

SO:The rest of our games are most likely meaningless, but… it’s like Jim Carrey says in Dumb & Dumber when Lauren Holly tells him the odds of them being together are more like a million to one: “So you’re telling me there’s a chance.”

Start carving your playoff roster, we’re going to the show!

Tonight’s game against Tampa Bay is an audition for pitchers on the bubble. Derek Lowe pitches dreadfully, scuttling his chance to be the number three starter in the playoffs (Bronson Arroyo seems to have won that spot with his strong second half). Terry Adams throws two-plus ugly innings, so count him out. By the time Alan Embree comes in to throw one shutout inning, it’s 8–8. Scott Williamson, who’s been injured, walks one guy in his stint, but his velocity is still down around 89, so I doubt he’ll make the roster. Pedro Astacio’s just getting some work in before he starts half of Saturday’s doubleheader in Baltimore. Ramiro Mendoza, though, nails his assignment, pitching a perfect ninth and tenth, striking out two and giving us a chance to win it when Kevin Millar cranks a two-run shot off fireballing closer Danys Baez, who Lou has left out there throwing 96 (and then 94, 93, 92) for three innings. Foulke crafts a one-two-three eleventh and we’re two and a half back of the Yanks with five to go.

Much more exciting is the West, where the Angels and A’s are now in a dead heat with a three-game showdown looming on the season’s final weekend, the results of which will determine the playoff matchups. Right now the Central champs the Twins have a better record (by a mere one win) than Oakland and Anaheim, meaning they’d play us and have home-field advantage, and the Yankees would host whoever won the West (an easier task, given the Twins’ brilliant lefty Johan Santana). The Yanks have some control over the situation: tomorrow they start a three-game series against the Twins. They can avoid Santana by rolling over for them, but that’s a risk: if they lose too many, we have a shot at catching them. Slim, sure, but a shot.

SK:Today is a big day. If we win and Minnesota sweeps…

It could happen. One chance in four.

Meet me at Foxwoods.

SO:I know, I’m thinking the same way, but I read in the paper this morning that Francona and Wallace have decided not to change the playoff rotation to go after the division (that is, they’ll still throw Astacio versus the O’s in that doubleheader). The Coma himself: “At the chance of sounding like I don’t care, because I do, I’m sort of going to be stubborn about screwing our pitching up. I love the idea of having home-field advantage. I also think that you win with pitching. We’re going to somewhat try to remember that.”

And as things shape up, it appears Pedro’s slated for Game 1 (and therefore Game 5) and Schill for Game 2 (and thus Game 1 of the ALCS). So forget that dream matchup of Schilling-Santana. I guess Terry thinks we can split with Santana and take Schill’s start, or maybe he’s hoping we’ll outslug them at home for our #3 and #4?

Call me the tum-ba-lin di-ee-iice.

SK:“I guess Terry thinks”—You’re giving him too much credit.

Your news is unbelievable. The scenario you describe is idiotic. All I can hope is that Francona will change his mind and see reason if Minnesota sweeps New York (they lead in the first game, 3–1, in the middle innings) and we beat Tampa Bay again. Given the last couple of weeks, his plan to start Pedro in Game 1 is also foolish. His inexperience is showing. Not to mention a certain ocher tinge running up the center of his back.

I’m disgustipated, to quote Sylvester the Cat. Could these be orders from Above?— Sigh—Probably not.

SO:Since we’re two and a half back with five to go, I can almost understand the thinking. Almost. Last year we could have run the table if we’d had home advantage.

And did you see who’s sitting behind home plate at Yankee Stadium right now, scouting both the Yanks and Twins for the Cubbies? That’s right: Mr. Grady Little.

I’m back in Maine rather than at Fenway Park or at Yankee Stadium, where a sparse crowd is watching the rare afternoon game, but I’m once more wearing my bright red YANKEES HATER cap, and for a perfectly good reason: the sparse Stadium crowd is in attendance at the first of this year’s last three really important games, two between the Twins and the Yankees, one between the hapless Devil Rays and the Red Sox.