Share Your Vodka And Brownies With Me. Boston's 9-7 victory over Seattle yesterday was a perfect example of what I was talking about when I wrote that this team can infuriate me even when they win.

I met my YLP* Laura on July 20, 1985 (!), so we spent the day out in the city together for our anniversary. I taped the game, we avoided bars with possible sports scores updates, and watched it when we got home. ... I got all nostalgic (for 2003) when they scored eight times in the 4th, but then Lowe and the bullpen let the Mariners creep slowly back into the game. And frankly (Mr. Shankly), as Seattle closed the gap to 9-7 in the 8th and Foulke let the first two guys get on the bottom of the 9th, I fully expected the Red Sox to lose. And since I knew the game was already over (the team was likely flying back east as I was watching), I was really curious (morbidly so) how it would happen.

Seattle had the winning run at the plate three times: Boone, Edgar and Jacobsen. But the Real Foulke emerged in the nick of time, striking out all three batters (he got Edgar looking on a picture-perfect fastball on the inside corner). ... Boston won the game -- and I felt nothing. No joy, no satisfaction, barely any relief.

Random things: NESN continues to miss pitches because it shows too many goddamn commercials; Sox fans missed the first pitch of the tops of the 2nd, 3rd, 5th and 8th (all Boston batters). ... In the 9th, Trot Nixon had about as good a chance of hitting Mike Myers as I would have. Totally overmatched against the sidearming lefty. ... Tito has 0% confidence in Mendoza. With Embree in serious danger of pissing away the game in the 8th, he refused to go the pen again. ... For solace and commiseration, an excellent alternative to the vacationing Soxaholix is Surviving Grady.

Pedro goes bird hunting (and his mates will treat Bedard like a pinata) at 7:05 pm.

*YLP = Yankee Loving Partner