For those of you out there who are relatively new passengers on the SS Carmine Hose, last night’s Fiscal Year Fiasco in Baltimore may have come as a bit of a shock. Losing a 9-run lead with 9 defensive outs to go is an unusual occurrence these days.
Ah, but there was a time, my hearties, when this kind of a gut check to the psyche was relatively routine. I’m talking about that mystical period before Yawkey Way was a pedestrian mall. Yes, the dreaded pre-2004 editions of the Olde Towne Team.
I realize that the names Bucky F. Dent, Bob Stanley, Bill Buckner and Aaron F. Boone are simply murky shades from a gloomy past. But, beware. The karma from 86 long years does not diminish into the haze without a fight.
You know that sick feeling in the pit of your soul when relief pitcher after relief pitcher could not get an out? That’s it. When Papelbon was destined to cough up a 2-run double after striking out the previous batter? That’s it. And, the utter shock when Jason Bay whiffed to end the game with two on? That’s it.
Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, welcome to your destiny.