Sox Sweep, Game Seven, And Queens of the Stone Age

We at Me And Pedro can read the signs as well as anyone: when you write a post lamenting the fact your team can't score and they throw down 26 runs in three days, you've to be pleased. We will be judicious in applying our (invisible) touch to our favorite sports teams from now on. The Goddz, as they are, are fans of modesty, even if there was nothing modest about the 7-3 shellackings of the Rays sandwiching a 12-4 thumping of formerly unhittable Jamie Shields.

There was also nothing modest about the critical beatdown applied to the Atlanta Hawks yesterday by the Celtics. We had a sense this might happen, and we were absolutely thrilled with every second of it (except KG's unnecessary shoulder-drop), but we have fears going into the second round against LeBron and the Cavs. It's not that we're worried that the Celtics are old, because we know they are and that they can still win — we're worried that they're self-conscious about it. Basketball is a game of actions and reactions, not of deep thought, which is why the Hawks were able to sweep their home games but got absolutely bludgeoned on the road. Both teams won where they were supposed to win because they thought they could, and didn't win where they weren't supposed to win. Maybe the C's should have won in Atlanta, but there was no way the Hawks were winning in Boston. They won 12 road games all year, and this is who they beat:

Miami
Minnesota
Philly (twice)
Orlando
Washington (twice)
Seattle
G-State
Knicks (twice)
Memphis

There are some playoff teams on there, but the biggest beast is Orlando, and that happened once. More than half the games were against absolute worst teams in the league.

The Cavs also posted a losing road record, going 18-23, but they won on the road in Dallas, San Antonio and L.A. Now, the Celtics handled the Texas Trifecta a couple months ago, only to get pasted by the speed of the Hawks in the last two weeks. Maybe it was just nerves, or maybe it was a veteran team struggling to find its playoff identity. You have to figure that the "Big Three" gimmick has worn a little thin this year: shooting commercials together, sitting for group interviews, etc., but it worked for the regular season. There's one thing to have a "Big Three" across 82 games and another to know exactly whose role is what in a given situation; it's the difference between Nash, Amare and Marion (circa 2005) vs. Parker, Duncan and Ginobili. The knowledge that Duncan is the man frees the other guys up to play loose, but the Celtics, as an institution, have been loathe to give Garnett the reins in full. Pierce is still the captain, which is understandable given his seniority but otherwise absurd. He's a moody scorer who wanted out of Boston until they got him reinforcements; does that sound like a captain? Having him introduced last gives the wrong impression. It gives the impression that KG is not the pivotal man in crunch time, or at any time, when he is. Now, KG has historically been maligned for fading in the playoffs, but he seems to be taking that reputation head-on in Boston. Let's let him do it in the pilot's chair as the captain of the team (and for an MVP discussion including yours truly w/r/t Kobe, KG and LeBron, read here and in the comments). I, and I think the Celtics, would feel a lot better about it and would cruise to a victory over the Cavs. In the current situation? I'm not so sure.

When I started this, I was leaning toward Cleveland in seven, just because I can't shake the feeling that LeBron is going to win a game at the Garden. And if he's going to win one, it will be Game 1. So here's my prediction: if the Cavs win game 1, it's Cleveland in 7, if not, it's the C's in 6. And yes, I recognize that I just said that LeBron is going to win "a" game at the Garden and then implied he would win two or zero. That's because, in the words of Kevin Millar, "In Game 7, anything can happen."

Tomorrow we promise to talk about baseball, as this is supposed to be a baseball blog. We'll have thoughts on the Sox/Tigers game, the disturbing efficiency of Chien-Ming Wang, talk about what's wrong — if anything — with Bronson Arroyo and laud a Me and Pedro favorite, Hideki Okajima. We love the idea of Hideki Okajima so much it makes our head hurt.

(The following is dedicated to the Sox' twin 7-3 wins over Tampa, courtesy of some dude rocking the sh*t out of Guitar Hero. This song rocks so hard it's ridiculous, btw.)

The Bell Curve

I was explaining to my Not Quite Yet Girlfriend last night the recent history of Boston sports during the waning minutes of the Celtics/Hawks game, mentioning that the game on the television fit the disturbing recent pattern of Boston fans getting bit in the ass by complacency. I mentioned how good our teams had been over the past eight years, prompting her to ask,"But weren't they really bad before that?" I lied and said yes, when the truth is they were on one hand (Sox) frustrating and on the other three just recently terrible. Worse than the performance of the teams themselves was the knowledge that every year was going to be the same as the year before it. And then Drew Bledsoe got hurt.

Now, I loved Bledsoe. But when Tommy Brady took over the Patriots, our sports experience took a sharp turn upward, where it stayed through the three Patriots titles and the Sox 2004 championship. That was the top of the bell curve, which was extremely steep. Even four years ago our teams were generally beloved by the media, the only arbiter that really matters; the Patriots were seen as the "model" franchise, and the Sox were the good guys versus the Yankees. The final out against Alan Embree in the 2004 ALCS was the tipping point, and you may not know it, but things have been downhill from there. The performances haven't always indicated it, but the new ethos of Boston sports took over and started to poison the results and our reputation in the country at large. In a nation that can't agree on anything except that Dennis Kucinich is crazy and Roger Clemens is an asshole, Boston fans are loathed by anyone. Why?

We expected to win. And with "only" one more title since 2004, we're not putting our money where our mouth is. The thing is, almost nobody could. Have we lost the passion? Yes, we have. Bravado about the Patriots' skills and declaring you hate Peyton Manning isn't the same as getting pumped up for your team's game. Last year, I texted an old friend before game 7 of the Cleveland series. No response. When we beat the Rockies, I got a couple phone calls. We expected to win. No big whoop. Then the Patriots season happened, and it was, at the bitter end, God's gift to everyone Out There who hated us and the first sign the sun was setting on our decade of triumphs.

Then Kevin Garnett came along, and we thought we had another hope. The problem is we were still cocky, when the 2007-08 Celtics are still a tenuous experiment. They could still win the title, but we have to remember the games are played on the court, not in the battlefield of "who can be a bigger asshole fan." If the Celtics lose to the Hawks — still unlikely, but plausible — we'll be back near the bottom of the bell curve, hopefully in a spot that encourages us to root for our team based not on a false sense of superiority, but because of our love of the region and the game. Same thing with the Sox. That's why we started this blog, to show that Sox love has little or nothing to do with the Sox winning. We've won. Let's get over it and root like real fans, and prepare for what might happen at the bottom of the bell curve in Atlanta this weekend.

Rise and shine, campers

It's 6:08 a.m. and it's on for a three-inning live blog.

6:09: JD Drew has already been scratched.

6:10: Strike to littly Dusty and we're on! Then LITTLE DUSTY SINGLES UP THE MIDDLE, and now the Japanese fans are "Youk"-ing!

6:12: Youk grounds out, Pedroia to second, Papi up. Watch your heads. Popout. Man-ny. Man-ny. The first hint of sunlight over here. Manny fouls out. Dice-K time.

6:18: T-Buck time. Grounds to LITTLE DUSTY and he's out. Then Mark Ellis hits the absolute crap out of the ball, homer to left center, 1-0 A's. And all of a sudden Dice-K cannot find the strike zone, and I'm quite a bit more tired than I was 10 minutes ago.

6:22: Jack Cust, the legend, is hit by a pitch. Then there's a wild pitch. And Emil Brown walks (on a full count, at least), loading the bases. Looked to me like Bobby Crosby just struck out, but they didn't get the call. On the next pitch Crosby bounces back to somewhere not all that near the pitcher and Dice-K makes a silly play to get him at first and it's 2-0. Restart! Nevermind, strikeout, and its Mikey Lowell time. One inning in the books!

6:35: Single for Mikey-poo. Brandon Moss is up. He's no Randy Moss. Fielder's choice and Moss is on first, so I'm looking for the stolen base. Oakland gets a little DP therapy on the grounder to short. Now I'm REALLY tired. I'm going to have some coffee and some of the $40 worth of breakfast food I bought yesterday.

6:42: Kurt Suzuki hits a single to center, giving us our first Jacoby sighting of the year. He fields it exquisitely, like The Natural. Ryan Sweeney flies out to right. Travis Buck strikes out by Suzuki steals second. Varitek's throw ain't great but we get our first Lugo sighting. Dice-K's first strike to Mark Ellis is an awesome fastball. He's dealing now... straight into a full-count walk.

6:53: Get your crazy on. Throw down some sake bombs. Tavarez is warming up. Another full-count walk leading straight into Jack "Pedro Cerrano" Cust with Dice-K only throwing fastballs and his new change-up. Cust is swinging like Robb Deer. Cust strikes out looking.

6:58: I just took a tape recorder out of my bag to do some work and my bag smells like Trident Watermelon Twist gum. Holy crap, I have a lot of transcribing to do.

7:01: JACOBY. Strikes out looking. But Lugo singles. This is the year. LITTLE DUSTY shows off some opposite-field warning track power, which is promising despite the out. Youk grounds it to the far side of third and Jack Hannahan gets it but can't get Youk out, which is dangerous for everyone involved for Papial purposes. Ortiz watches the first strike like it's nothing and eventually rocks it — right into the shift. We'll take the solid contact, I guess.

7:10: Dice-K comes out for the final half-inning of your live blog (sorry kids). Emil Brown aims to make it a quick one by popping to Youk, who drops it, equaling his error total from last year. Wow, that was unexpected. And a lie. Youk caught it. Sidney Bubba Bobby Crosby grounds back to Dice-K and he's out. Full count to Jack Hannahan, and a walk.

7:18: Kurt Suzuki lines out to a leaping LUGO! That's it for me. Work and breakfast beckon. Enjoy the next 161 and two-thirds. Baseball season.

Hello, Red Sox Fans

This is more or less our mission statement:

First, we are united under Clay Buchholz.

Second, we realize that we only get so many Red Sox seasons, and we're happy to be starting another one.

We love the Red Sox. And then there are the times when we curse the games and curse ourselves. The losses seem to hurt us more than we enjoy the wins, but they're precisely equal parts of the game.

For years, we were losers. Pathetic, dramatic, terminal losers. Losers you could count on: losers you could trust. By the time 2003 ended, we had lost so many times, in such grand fashion, that you could call it artistic.

The 2004 supernova has been photographed one thousand times from one thousand different angles, and is very much a closed case. We won't talk much about it here. Nor will we draw any authority from the 2007 Red Sox. Our blog is about the fucking brilliance that is the 2008 Boston Red Sox, win, lose or draw. There is no storyline going in. We intend to make one.

Who are we? We were once called "hilarious kids" (by us, we think) and we hope to live up to that. Where we are doesn't really matter, but we bracket the country. As the new version of Red Sox fans has followed us from one side of the States to the other, we've resisted inclusion in any "Nation" that resembles the one bearing our team's name. That's not us. We're going to root for the Sox in our own way, in the only way we know how. We don't love them because they win or because they lose. We love them because we do.

- Bryan