September 19, 2005
G150: Devil Rays 8, Red Sox 7
It's a wonder these brain-dead fuckers are still in first place. God, this team sucks right now. They are painful to watch. That the Red Sox can make so many mistakes on the field, at the plate, on the bases and on the mound and still have even a slim grip on first place says a lot about "good" the Yankees are.
We are in a team-wide hitting slump, except for David Ortiz, who is trying like hell to win the division single-handedly (and almost succeeding). Half our starters can't get their shit together enough to throw even three fucking innings in the heat of a mid-September pennant race. Our shortstop has become one of the bigger free-agent busts in recent memory -- and we are stuck with a manager who flat-out refuses to move him out of the top of the lineup ... because that might hurt his self-confidence ... as if he isn't already dreading every goddamn ground ball hit his way and every single at-bat with a man on base.
If Tito truly wants to win some games in these final weeks, Renteria must be dropped to #8 in the order and benched against right-handed pitchers. He finally made the move (sort of) with Millar, let's see if he has the guts to do the same with E6gar.
David Wells had nothing -- like Matt Clement before him -- giving up 10 hits and two walks in 2.2 innings -- though only four runs (Tampa left eight guys on base in the first three innings). The fat fucker failed to cover first base on a ball hit to Millar during the third inning. It's practically the first fucking thing pitchers practice in spring training, but Wells, as you may recall, said he knew his body so well, he didn't need much spring training. Well, fuck you, Orson.
Kevin Millar continues to steal the Red Sox's money. He hit into two double plays (erasing a leadoff runner both times) and (after a seven-pitch walk and the tying run on second in the seventh) hacked at the first pitch and popped to left, killing yet another rally. Fuck you, Cabin, go design another t-shirt.
Hollywood Damon has long hair and never fails to remind us that he's playing hurt, so he can't do anything wrong, yet he's dropping fly balls in center (though somehow not getting charged with any errors) seemingly every night. Fuck you, you Idiot.
If we could catch the ball, we would have won. If we could get a timely hit here or there, we would have won. If we could get a decent outing from our starter, we would have won. If we could excute simple fucking basic plays, we would have won.
Any one of those scenarios would have likely resulted in a victory. Yet, even if the Sox had somehow come back, it would still have ranked as the most frustrating game of the season. I don't want to hate this team, but they aren't giving me much reason not to.
Oh yeah: The Yankees won on a Bubba Crosby ninth-inning home run, so Boston's lead is down to .5.
Somewhere in there, between the cursing and scowling and head-shaking, Craig Hansen made his major league debut, striking out two Rays in a 1-2-3 inning. I liked that, though it is a distant memory right now.