A Revelation.

Dear John Lackey,

I'll admit to not having been your biggest fan this season. You were just so unlikeable with the Angels; the stomping around, the whining, the chin, the underbite, the pointy teeth, the mole, the mouth-breathing, and if I had known I probably would have added the voice and the tendency to use the phrase "for sure" as punctuation to the list of things wrong with you. Plus, you weren't exactly a bad pitcher.

Then you came over here and I set about trying to convince myself that you didn't spend your free time kicking puppies. It was difficult, though; the dislike was deeply ingrained. And then, I'm sorry, you hadn't exactly been fantastic to start the season. But last time out against Texas you pitched pretty well and tonight you pitched wonderfully. In fact, in the middle of the ninth inning I started a post in which I pondered the question: I like John Lackey?

Then things went haywire; I swore a blue streak at the television, threatened to kill some people, and did a little stomping around of my own. My point: I'd like to apologize for the group of doofuses (doofusi?) around you. And if you felt the need to administer several swift kicks to the groin to certain numbskulls, I don't think that anyone would blame you.

And honestly? I think that, if nothing else, today's game may have actually resulted in my coming around to like John Lackey.