Is it 4:00 Yet?

I hate today.

Bummed.

When I heard about David Ortiz yesterday, I was heartbroken; not shocked, per se, but definitely heartbroken. Here was a seemingly good man who time and again put his team on his broad back and said: Let's go. And here he was exposed as nothing more than a common cheat. He was a force. He was fierce. But he and his gap-toothed grin and big heart were immensely, irrevocably lovable. Apparently none of that was him, though. David was larger than life and now he's just a regular guy with regular guys faults and flaws.

Yesterday, for the first time I stood at the gate with ticket in hand and didn't really want to go in; which was equally depressing. And so I chose to hold me tongue last night in the hopes that I'd be able to think more clearly today. That with the benefit of a good night's sleep, I'd be able to form a coherent thought. I woke up this morning still feeling hollow. And am, apparently, still upset enough to slip into alliteration.

Bad Days Turn Into Bad Nights.

So this is what it's come down to? This is what you've reduced me to? Posting Andrew Lloyd Webber in an effort to stem the losing. You do realize that someone out there in Internet land is going to think that I appreciate the work of that no-talent hack, right? Have you no compassion? Don't you care one iota for my reputation?

For the first time in a year I actually thought: We need Manny. Of course, I didn't mean it but once the thought was out there it wasn't just going to go away. Even 2008 David Ortiz would suffice. Any other version of Jason Bay would be fabulous--sadly, Bay is not responding to my threats of having him banished to Pittsburgh (It works on Ramon Ramirez; "Get this out or I'm sending you back to K.C." almost always leads to the out) and more drastic measures may be called for. The pitching has been more of a problem than the hitting for the last couple of games but it's easier to pick on the hitters. I do wish that Justin Masterson would care about losing, though. Even just a little bit.

If more than two or three of you decide that you're actually going to play tomorrow, do let me know in advance. It would be much appreciated.

Black Jack.

They're like rambunctious, undisciplined children. You whine and moan and complain about the offense enough and they figure out how to pull themselves together (Although it may just be a minor lull in their suckitude because let's face the As are a terrible, terrible team.) but the moment you've turned your attention exclusively to the hitters (even if it's just long enough to give them a stern mom look) the pitchers decide that it would be a fabulous idea to go sit in the middle of a busy street.

Tonight the Oakland As had twenty-one hits. The God-awful, pathetic Oakland As successfully put the ball in play twenty-one times. Twenty-one times. They only have two regular players with an OPS+ of over 100 (and they're 105 and 101). Clay gave up nine of those hits but he really did keep it together. The bullpen? Not so much.

And much of the ire should be directed at the supposed leader of this merry band of misfits, Jonathan Papelbon. Papelbon seems to have been living dangerously all season long and tonight it caught up with him. The street he's sitting on is on the downside of a hill and he can't see the Mack truck barreling toward him from the other side.

If there's anything to take from this game (and really there probably isn't), it would be that the last time the Sox lost to the As in heart-breaking, extra innings fashion they responded by going on an eleven game winning streak. If they could do that again, it would take them through the Yankee series which would be awes. It would really be beyond awes.

Quick Hits.

Just a couple of quick things:

(Lifted from David Ortiz's facebook page from the opening of his restaurant.)

"Hi. My name is Jason and I'll be your waiter. Can I get you a drink while you look over the menu?"



Also, Justin Masterson would like your opinion on whether he should grow his hair out or not. Based on that goofy beard he sprouted last post-season, I'd say no.

I May Need to Stop Going to the Movies.

Including today, I've gone to the movies four times since the baseball season began; on three of those days the Sox lost their game and I'm fairly certain that they didn't lose on the other occasion only because they didn't have a game to play. [Aside: Orphan isn't too bad. It's not fabulous but it is creepy. And the makeup at the end is very impressive.]



I'm not entirely ready to jump on the John Smoltz is done train. (It may just be because I tend to be very contrary.) They think he's fine and I don't suppose I'm in any place to disagree with them. I suppose any of the team's other pitchers would have had a good chance of getting the loss it the offense only managed to get two runs for them. Blah.

Some Things Will Never Change.

So I go into work Wednesday afternoon and things are dandy. I get out of there sixteen hours later, sleep the sleep of the dead, and awake to find that Julio Lugo was sent to St. Louis, they had acquired a first baseman from Pittsburgh in Adam LaRoche, and that they'd let Mark Kotsay go. The seeming shortsighted-ness of the last move is killing me--your backup outfielder is Rocco Baldelli. Should someone go down, which *knock on wood* doesn't seem that unlikely, and Rocco can't go, you've got yourself a problem--but I'm willing to concede that the front office knows better than I do.

So Adam LaRoche, huh? Slightly different coloring but he looks a lot like JD Drew, similar demeanor as well. He doesn't like to wear suits. (Big mistake. Only once in my life have I ever met a man who didn't look good in a suit and that was mostly because he slouched.) And he wants to play in the playoffs. So good luck to him.

Papi Says Relax.

The day before yesterday, expanded his empire (perhaps to Jeter-esque proportions) by opening a restaurant out in Framingham. The menu is steak house-y with a Mediterranean feel to it (lemons, olives, ceviches, couscous) with the occasional concession to the tropics (lots of mango).



Mostly I wanted to post this video though because of Ming Tsai and it didn't seem right to do it without posting the other one. Admittedly, I've never been to Blue Ginger but I love Ming Tsai's cooking show-he's very calm. And my fancy knives came Ming Tsai recommended. (Things are wicked sharp. I was slicing ginger once and literally shaved off half of my fingernail. There was still nail on the bed but if you looked at it from the side, the center appeared to be gouged out. It was horrible and very painful.)

Maybe Clay Will Lead the Way.

That said, I'm very zen right now. A week or two ago, losing four games in a row would not have gone over well at all. I'd be upset: they're gonna get swept. Oh my God! The Yankees! Disaster! Panic! Right now? It's just: meh. It's because I choose to believe that they can't play this poorly for that much longer, right? Or I may be a little bit tipsy.

And if the redemptive power of A Chorus Line can't set you straight, then I'm pretty sure there's nothing that can.

No Wake.

Tim Wakefield has been put on the disabled list with a low back strain and Clay has been brought back up to pitch on Wednesday. Hopefully it's not too serious.

Point Me Toward Tomorrow.

True story: There's this blue jay (at least I think it's a blue jay; it's looks like a blue jay except that it's feathers are duller than you would expect. And if it's not a blue jay, then the story is irrelevant.) that lives near my home. It is a rather bird-brained bird. It's been known to fly into windows--which is quite frightening when you're sitting there eating your morning Wheaties. It's also fond of perching on the front doors of my car to admire itself in the side-view mirrors. Which...okay fine; birds do that, you get a parakeet as a pet and you put a little mirror in the cage so that it can look at itself. The problem with this stupid bird is that it ends up crapping all over my car doors while it sits there. Makes me wish that I had a garage.

So...Kiss today goodbye/And point me toward tomorrow.

Not that tomorrow is looking all that bright. I'm not entirely sold on the idea of John Smoltz versus the Rangers. But hopefully he'll prove me fantastically wrong. I'm not concerned about Beckett--hopefully, that doesn't equal bad things. But then the series ends with the Fabulous Adventures of Tim Wakefield in Arlington. Maybe I'm remembering Wake's record in Texas as being more horrific than it actually is but it seems like you would do your best to avoid having him pitch in there.

Apologies to Bad.

Today's loss may have been on me. You see, I wasn't paying much attention to the game at all (which is rarely a good thing). And to top it off, much of my attention for the game was directed at trying to find a clip of Mr. Unpronounceable from The Road to Wellville in honor of the Blue Jays starter. Clearly this was taken as a show of support for Toronto by the baseball Gods. And, in order to appease me, they made the hitters once again struggle. It's the only explanation I can think of for their performance today.

There Was Joy in Boston...

Julio Lugo was out.

Julio's time in Boston wasn't always pretty. He had his issues. But I always felt bad for the amount of crap that was thrown his way. And he really has handled benching (at least publicly) with remarkable aplomb. Here's hoping that Nick Green and Jed Lowrie can live up to the expectations.

Another Awww Moment.

Yesterday, the baseball world turned it's attention to the All-Star game in St. Louis but that doesn't mean there wasn't any baseball being played at Fenway.

The CVS Caremark All Kids Can Baseball Camp held their first tutorial of the season yesterday. The program provides Little League teams which have players with disabilities (although the term du jour was special needs last time I heard) from throughout New England the opportunity to take batting practice in Fenway under the guidance of Dave Magadan. Says Mags:

"I don't know who was having more fun: the parents, me, or the players."

Old Friends.

Pedro Martinez will be taking up residence in Philadelphia after signing a one-year deal earlier today. I may have mentioned my complete, unadulterated love of Pedro Martinez--he's the only pitcher I have ever called my favorite player--so I'm happy for him. Says Pedey:

"I'm not here for talking. I'm here to do it."

As long as "it" isn't beating the Red Sox, then I'm with you buddy.

Oni.

Jason Bay shared his thoughts on the All-Star game in blog form with Rob Bradford and crew. It's actually mostly well written. Anyway, he shares a couple of stories but I literally cackled when I read this one:

"Workout day, I run back in from the field to get sunglasses. Locker room completely empty except Ichiro stretching on the floor and his translator sitting on the chair beside him. So we make small talk, and I ask him where he lives in Seattle because I lived in the suburbs.


Well, I had barely got the last word out when Ichiro says something in Japanese. Then his translator turns to me, deadpanned and straight-faced and says, “I’m going to mess with your house.” The way he said it was malicious, and Ichiro is on the floor dying laughing like it was the funniest thing ever. I was just like, “OK, I’ll see you guys out there.” I didn’t know what to say. It was weird."

Who would have thought that inside the little guy with the Oh-my-God-I-really-have-to-pee batting stance lived a trouble maker? And that he would unleash said trouble maker on a poor, unsuspecting, gentle Canadian? Or that casual Ichiro looked like that?

Who Would You Rather Have as a Representative?

Kind, humble, generous Tim Wakefield in his spiffy suit along with his cutie-pie daughter?

or

This?

One of These Things is Not Like the Others.

Jonathan Papelbon looks right at home with an over-enthusiastic guy in a pirate suit and two girls in short skirts, fishnets, and tight satiny shirts. Dear, sweet, humble, good Tim Wakefield? Not so much.

A Taste of Fame.

Pawtucket catcher Mark Wagner made his national television debut (probably) this morning on Good Morning America. One of the ABC correspondents had been tapped to deliver the ceremonial first pitch for a PawSox game and looking to not make an ass of himself, turned to Wags for advice. Says Wagner:

"Act like you really want to do it. And you're like: I want to do this 100% and I'm going to throw the best I've ever had."

Terrible grammar but video here.

Mike Scioscia Lite.

I have long suspected that Joe Maddon was a jackass. It started with those stupid glasses that he wears which shrilly exclaim a desire to be hip. It extended to his need to prove how brilliant he is and how creative and wonderful he is with his slogans. He'd probably think that "think outside the boxscore" was genius. And then there's the whole inciting a riot thing.

And he has ultimately proven his jackassery today. Dustin Pedroia has dropped out of the game to be with his wife. (Absolutely the right decision.) So who did Maddon choose as his replacement? Ian Kinsler who was second in fan voting? Nope. Some other deserving second baseman? Nope. Really? Nope. Justin Morneau (who probably belonged to be there more than Youkilis or Teixeira) then? Nope. Miguel Cabrera? Nope. Chone Figgins? Nope. Well who then? Which other qualified, deserving player did he select to fill that spot? He picked his very own first baseman Carlos Pena *tilde implied*.

Look, I like Haverhill. I do. He seems like a nice guy. But Carlos Pena *tilde implied* is not an All-Star and does not belong at the All-Star game.

Stymied.

I don't really know what to say about that game but it certainly seems like it deserves to have something said about it. It wasn't pretty--not the game and not the way I ended up watching it. Sat on the floor, sat on the couch. Turned the sound off, turned the sound back on again. Stomped around, grumbled a bit. Messed around on the computer, launched things at the television set.

Do you complain about the bullpen (specifically Justin Masterson and Manny DelCarmen) having a couple of bad nights seemingly in a row? Do you point out that when the bullpen is doing well, they're all do welling and when they suck, they all suck? Do you ignore that and say that John Smoltz looked pretty good? After having wailed about the lack of offense not all that long ago, do you comment on the fact that they were able to hit tonight? And do you cross your fingers that they'll be able to do it again tomorrow? (The hitting that is; I wouldn't want to see that kind of pitching again for awhile.) Do you congratulate JD Drew on that fan-freakin-tastic play? Do you write that Daniel Bard was good and Takashi Saito got the job done? Do you congratulate John Smoltz on his first AL win and Aaron Bates on his first major league hit?

Or do you not bother with any of it because they won and no matter how terrible, awful, no good, and very bad it was, in the end, that's all that really matters?

It's Dangerous Out There in L'il Rhody.

I should preface this with: I know nothing about cars or car theft. Forgive me if I mistype.

Clay Buchholz woke up this morning to find parts of his car missing; the wheels/rims (the newsgal uses the terms interchangeably; I don't know if they're the same thing) were removed from his car in the wee hours. Luckily for him, the thieves were spotted by a neighbor and the car parts returned.

Perhaps because everything turned out alright in the end or maybe because he's been on the other side of the act of thievery (c'mon it's a natural place to go with this story) he seems mostly okay with it.

He does need a haircut, though.

Dr. Cosby is Sending a Message.

When I was a kid my dad had these old Bill Cosby records that he would play for us. (This was one of my favorite routines and lead to many attempts on my part to do the same.) I can't imagine what struck these two as so funny but it's a great picture.

300.

The bright spot of tonight's game? David Ortiz getting his 300th career home run. It's really good to see Papi looking like Papi and less like a lost puppy again. Congratulations.

I Have a Large Supply of These.

I'm pretty sure that losing to the Kansas City Royals requires that the show tunes be brought out more quickly; it's something that needs to be nipped in the bud. Besides which, even though Justin Masterson might be highly offended by GodSpell (I think there are some religious-types who don't take kindly to it) it seems appropriate given that he was the losing pitcher.

I did briefly wonder if Masterson, being a soft-hearted soul, was trying to be kind to Ryan Freel after knocking him in the noggin trying to pick him off second earlier in the season when Freel was with Baltimore. I rejected that idea pretty quickly and decided instead that he should try to hit him again when he was throwing over to first base, for old times' sake.

I suppose that being tied with the Yankees isn't so bad. Winning thirteen out of fifteen (as the Yankees have done) isn't sustainable; they've got some losses coming to them and they're out to LA to meet the Angels. Having them sniff first place only to fall back is pretty good, too. But boyos: no more of this losing to the Royals. Got that?

And I Shut My Eyes and I Curl Up Small, And Nobody Knows That I'm There at All.*

Orlando Cabrera was having a difficult time with Wake's knuckleball last night. So much so that he turned to George Kottaras for advice. Georgie K. was less than helpful:

“I was telling George (Red Sox catcher Kottaras) behind the plate, 'How do you even catch that ball?”' Oakland shortstop Orlando Cabrera said. “He was like, ‘I just close my eyes.'

“And I said, 'OK, I'm going to try that one, I'm going to close my eyes and swing.' And nothing.”

The idea of Kottaras crouching back there, cringing as the pitch approaches amuses me. A lot.


*A. A. Milne.

You Should Be Beckett.

First things first: Josh, kitten, did you buy that shirt in 1976? Because paired with some white polyester bell-bottomed trousers, it would be the perfect leisure suit. You could kick it with the Bee Gees.

And since I don't want to be someone who uses this space simply to whine about faults the team has on any given night (and really they should have been able to score more runs than the did), I'll just say that while Beckett may not have been at his absolute best, he was sufficient. And that's all they can ask of him. They had a little bit of offense going and they had some nice defense as well. So that was all good.

And Craig Breslow did well, so that's a bonus.

Baby Trouble.

In a piece of bad news, it seems that Dustin Pedroia missed last night's game to be with his wife after she experienced complications in her pregnancy. The last line of the Projo article sounds very dire:

"Immediately after the Sox' 6-0 loss to the A's, Francona was on his way to the hospital to be with the Pedroias."

If it wasn't serious, why would he be going to the hospital? But still, if it was serious, who would want to be with their boss at a time like that?

Good luck to the both of them.

Also, I'm glad she's pregnant and that I didn't just call her fat at the end of May.

Bummer.

I'm pretty sure John Smoltz has the right reaction to that game. The good news boyos (for you at least, it's certainly not good news for Braden or whomever he lost) is that Dallas Braden has been placed on the bereavement list and replaced by Dana Eveland. Eveland, you'll remember was the starter of the twelve inning debacle out in Oakland. Sadly, Eveland is still a left-handed pitcher (which is all kinds of not good) but last time around you managed to get eight hits, three walks, and five runs off of him. Let's hope for some more of that kind of hitting.

Things That Sting.

Keeping with today's theme but also hoping to lessen the sappy mood that has taken over this little space: Smilin' Eric Hinske made his New York Yankee debut today and smacked a home run, a single, and got hit by a pitch. He did strike out swinging with the tying run at second to end the game, though. So there's that.

Nomah.

There you have it: Dude made me cry.

Honesty.

It's like being a spurned lover. It's like going to a party or conference that you know the ex-boyfriend will also be attending and trying to play it cool. It's like trying to be all "Hey! What's Up?". When inside, as the event approaches, you're slowly turning to goo. The analogy isn't perfect because he didn't choose to leave but it's how I'm feeling this evening.

I can claim to be more interested in Breslow's appearance (and I do care more about Craig doing well than I care about Nomar doing well) but Nomar Garciaparra is coming to town tonight and I'm excited. I'm excited for all the things he did and all the things he might have been. Nomah is back. Stand up and cheer.

Who?

A couple of days ago, Aaron Bates moved up from Portland to Pawtucket. Today he makes the jump to Boston. He's an OF/1B righty with a lot of potential power. Seems like a nice kid.

To Build a Baseball Team.

As far as I can tell (and I'm probably missing something extremely obvious) there are no literary references to the city of Oakland, CA. And so we go with Jack London's (who grew up in Oakland) To Build a Fire. And given that we're talking about the As, it seems like a good title.

For NESN, this is all about the return of Nomar and, to a lesser extent, O Cab. For me, I'm most excited about the return of best beloved, Craig Breslow. It's odd to be as invested in the success of someone you don't know as I am in Breslow's but I couldn't shake it when he was with the Indians or the Twins. I don't suppose that there's any reason to believe that since he's with Oakland I'll be free of him now. Incidentally, he's been doing well out there--the walks are mostly down.

Lefty Brett Anderson pitches for Oakland tonight. He was the opposing pitcher during Wakey's near no-hitter in April. He gave up two runs on five hits in seven innings; the two runs being the result of a Mike Lowell home run. He struck out five and walked two (one intentionally). In general, he has struggled against left-handed batters. He's only made it to seven innings one other time this season. He can get some velocity on his fastball (he hit 97 mph in his last start) but his control also took a hit in the start.

Dallas Braden makes the start for Oakland tomorrow. Off all the promising lefties Oakland started off the season with, Braden has been the most successful. On April 13, he allowed six hits in six innings; two runs, one walk, and three strike outs. Youkilis had both a double and a home run. Braden has been really tough on lefties this year.

Trevor Cahill pitches the last game of the series for the As. He's got a ninety mile per hour fastball, a slider, a curveball, and a changeup. He had shown strike out potential in the minor leagues (he was often compared to Brandon Webb) but it hasn't really translated. He gives up too many walks and not enough strike outs (his season high is five). He's pretty young and so they keep a pretty tight leash on him; the most pitches he's thrown in seventeen starts is 107.

Oakland's offense has struggled this year. If Matt Holliday was hoping to hook up with the Yankees next year for spectacular money, then he's going to have to have a spectacular second half. Jason Giambi has eleven home runs and Jack Cust has fourteen. Adam Kennedy and Kurt Suzuki are having decent years. The As aren't going to score a lot of runs. If you can score more than four runs off of them, it's likely that you'll win the game.

All Star Timmy.

Congratulations are in order for Tim Wakefield who was selected for the 2009 All-Star team today. I'm firmly of the opinion that Joe Maddon is a jackass and I sort of thought that he might keep Timmy out just to be a jerk. Heh. I might actually have to watch the stupid thing this year--last year was the only time I had ever tuned in and that was only at the end because it just kept going.

I've long said that we should all aspire to be Tim Wakefield when we grow up. Ever the gentleman, Wake was nothing but gracious in his presser. And I hope that someone got him some damn potato salad as a reward.

I Warned You to Not Make Me Bust Out the Showtunes Again.

This one might seem like a wee bit of an over reaction, I'll give you that. Lately, however, the offense has stunk and a faltering bullpen hasn't helped too much either. Even when they were winning, they weren't playing all that well. This team should be better than that. So far this season they have not been swept, right now I'm not all that confident that they'll make it out of tomorrow's game alive. Hopefully, Jon Lester will both prove me wrong and decide that he doesn't need a bullpen.

Albatross.

The Mariners can pitch there's little doubt about that. Scoring runs, however, has been an issue for them. Some good news though: There was some talk of trying to get Erik Bedard into this series but they've apparently decided to hold him back until Tuesday against Baltimore.

Felix Hernandez brings his upper-nineties fastball and pretty strike out numbers to Fenway Park tonight. When he isn't striking people out, Hernandez gets plenty of ground ball outs. He gives up very, very few home runs. And he also throws around 115 per outing. Lefties do have a slightly better shot against him.

Garret Olson was the pitcher they were hoping to replace with Erik Bedard. Olson throws a high-eighties fastball, a slider, a curveball, and a change up. On May 16 he took the loss against Boston. He threw six innings and gave up five earned runs on four hits--including three homeruns (Varitek, Bailey, and Bay). He also walked four.

Brandon Morrow is making the transistion from a relief pitcher to a starter. Morrow has a mid-nineties fastball, a slider, a curveball, a changeup, and a split-fingered fastball. Too many walks, though. Lots of fly balls but not too many home runs.

With the loss of Adrian Beltre to a shoulder injury, their offense consists mostly of Ichiro Suzuki and Russell Branyon. They don't walk a lot. They don't strike out all that often. And except for Ichiro, they don't run very well--they kept running themselves out of innings against New York.

And because I can't think the word albatross without thinking of this:

USA! USA!

"When have you ever heard anyone say, 'Honey, let's stay in and order Canadian food'?" --From Canadian Bacon.

Jay Ray Bay joined the cause this afternoon by officially becoming an American citizen. Congratulations to him.

Jed.

Hey! I remember you, I think.

Is it terrible that while watching this video what I really wanted was for them to zoom out a little bit so that I could see this fabulous bruise on his knee?

Vote.

Just a friendly reminder that you have until midnight tonight to stuff the ballot box in Youkilis' favor for the All Star Game. I don't really care about the All Star Game (don't usually even bother to watch it) but Mark Teixeira just looks dopey and slightly dim and not worthy of representing anything. Also, if you've maxed out an e-mail address, you could try it again. It worked for me--I've voted twenty-five times in a row (although I counted over thirty votes before it locked me out once) on the same junk mail address three times already.

How'd You Like Them Apples?

Because I liked them just fine; crispy and sweet like a cameo or a gala.

Admittedly, I spent much of the game muttering to myself that it was pathetic that the first series they dropped in a long time was going to be to the Orioles. To freaking Baltimore. But in the end they had a little magic of their own. And as I was in the process of telling Rocco Baldelli that he needed to shave his moustache because it looks ridiculous (my efforts to stop talking to the television have been ineffective) he tied the game. (So...I suppose that he can keep it, if he really wants to. It's not as bad as the beard but that's not saying much.) And then Lugo came through and there was great joy.

Hips Don't Lie.*

Since I'm still keyed up, let's talk hips and hip effusions.

An effusion is build up of excess fluid in a body cavity. When they drained Mike Lowell's hip joint, they took out 15cc of synovial fluid. The average amount of fluid in a hip should be around 5cc. If 5cc is a little more than a teaspoon (and it is), then 15cc is nearly a tablespoon plus a teaspoon--which seems pretty excessive.

The problem with excess fluid is that it increases the pressure on the joint. And in some cases can cause the bones to become slightly displaced. When bones are out of place, it causes pain and limits the functionality of the joint. Just the act of draining the joint and relieving that pressure, is probably what led to Mikey felt better today.

The more interesting question is what is causing the buildup of fluid in his hip. Although they do occur in adults, hip effusions are more often a kiddo problem; specifically, boys aged 2 to 10. The most common causes would be synovitis (an inflamed synovial membrane), septic arthritis (an infection of a joint), and osteomyelitis (a bone infection). Other cause could be trauma, osteoarthritis, or gout/psuedogout.


*When this song was popular I had a clever friend who quipped "I've just about had it up to here with Shakira and her honest hips." Made me laugh; still does.

Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit.

Having calmed down to the point where I'm less annoyed with this past performance, I've come to the realization that it's better for the bullpen to fall apart against the Orioles than (sorry Os) against some team that really matters (NY or Tampa being the biggest culprits.) It still sucks but to a slightly lesser degree.