Waiting to Exhale.

 Brock Holt is an awful hypocrite but that was great fun. Just delightful.

Best game of the year? Possibly.

The Truth About Cats and Dogs.

Earlier today, a five pound bag of sugar fell on my face. That was a more pleasant experience than watching this team play baseball.

Clueless.

Well, kittens. It's not good.

This team is just not good at baseball. The pitching has been terrible. The hitting is atrocious. The defense is sloppy. And you've got this stupid trip to London coming up.

Worst of all, I don't think that I care. If you were trying, despite being bad at baseball, I would care. All you really need is heart but you don't even seem to have that.

In my head, they give a David a cane when he gets out of the hospital (and there's no doubt in my mind that he gets out of the hospital) but he is unable to use it because he's too strong; when he presses down on the cane it breaks. David, in my imagination, twenty months out from having played baseball and recovering from major surgery, is still strong enough to bend steel.

I can't imagine that there is anyone on this current team that I would picture in the same way.

Blech.

The American President.

That...seems about right. The White Sox (which is so damn clever I wish that I had thought of it) and a gun-crazed lunatic, who believes that he is being patriotic by advocating for the armed overthrow of any duly elected government that tries to take away his guns.

I'm disappointed in Slick. He seems so much more urbane than the rest of these chuckle-heads.

I'm truly disappointed in Matt Barnes. In interviews, he seems intelligent; like he might be capable of actual rational thought. Guess not. Anyway, he is currently sporting that ridiculous Hitler youth haircut so maybe he was in his element today.

But the one that's really killing me is Brock Holt. Brock Holt pretends to care about sick kids but stands grinning next to a man who dreams of taking away their access to care.

--And if we learned anything from Tim Thomas (and seriously I know nothing about Tim Thomas), it's that standing next to someone means a complete endorsement of their beliefs. It means fully embracing the lying, the cheating, the racism, the misogyny, the jingoism, the xenophobia, the cruelty. It's saying, "I got a couple more bucks in my pocket, I'm good man. Do what you want."-- 

The health care class system is A.O.K. in Brock Holt's view. You've got your haves: the folks who get to walk into a hospital and maybe walk out with a cure. And you've got your have-nots: the folks who can't afford treatment so they forgo it, or they go massively into debt, or beg strangers on the Internet for money. 

And while all those concussions that he's suffered are probably melting his brain and will lead to further mental deterioration down the road, Brock Holt's care is covered. Anybody else gets a concussion and can no longer get health care? Sucks to be you, says Brock Holt. You get to suffer.  The upside though is that everybody's stock portfolio is worth a little bit more so win...win?

I suppose it's good to know where folks stand.

The Pallbearer.

One doesn't like to be all doom and gloom. But maybe, it's time for the Red Sox twitter account to stop pretending like a game Chris Sale pitches is an event worth looking forward to.

Fools Rush In.

I don't know if they also head for the hills first.

This? This stinks.

Normally, I'm a cautious sort of person: gather the data, consider the options, make a fully-informed decision. Last year's team was so much fun, though, I just jumped in with this group. I believed.

Now, I'm starting to think: Alex Cora can't spin gold, you do need a competent bullpen, and this team has serious flaws that can't be papered over.

So. Do I bail? They're certainly not entertaining. At the same time, though, they can't be this bad for the next five and a half months. Right? They have to get better at some point. But is there any real reason to think that?

It's demoralizing.

Can't Hardly Wait.

There is a certain awkwardness to having an Opening Day! celebration almost two weeks into the season. (Not your fault, I know. But there it is.) And then there's the utter embarrassment one feels for having an Opening Day! celebration for a team that has not just stumbled but has, instead, belly-flopped flat onto its face and managed to chip a tooth on its way out of the box.

But then you go and post this video:

No one said it would be easy. #OpeningDay pic.twitter.com/qBvlq8zsJi

— Boston Red Sox (@RedSox) April 9, 2019

Fine. Have your party.

Out to Sea.

I like Eduardo. I do. He seems like a nice kid and he oozes personality. But he's so very frustrating. Very, it just occurs to me, Daisuke like.

He seems to insist on doing all the work in an at bat. Seeking the glamor of a strike out, he can't tempt batters into swinging and getting themselves out. So he runs the count full and can't last deep into the game. A good strategy for the opposing team would be to just stand there for the first five pitches of the at bat. He throws you two strikes? No problem. He's going to follow it up with three pitches outside the strike zone. And then you'll either walk or he'll have to throw something worth swinging at.

It's frustrating because there's real talent there. Or, at least it seems like there's real talent there. Maybe this is it for him. This is who he is: a kid who could be good, if he'd just get over himself.

Dream for an Insomniac.

Hooray! A win! (One has to take what one can get with this team.)

You, possums, you all can thank me. When I was getting dressed this morning (really yesterday morning), I saw a pair of socks (black with white polka dots) in my drawer and said to myself, "Well, they won the last time I wore these..." So I put them on and voila. You're welcome. Of course, they're socks so they are in the laundry basket and won't be available to work their magic again until next Tuesday. So you'd better figure out how to win without them. 

Joe Versus the Volcano.

Honestly? It's good of the pitching staff to make it clear exactly how they plan for the season to play out. No false hope. Just a team that is really really bad at baseball. As a spectator, one can choose to entertain oneself in a different way this summer.

For example, one can watch this video of Jackie Bradley Jr. taking a helicopter ride:

Reality Bites.

Maybe you woke up this morning and thought, "Woo Hoo! It's Opening Day! How exciting! Chris Sale!" (Me? Inexplicably, I woke up with Flagpole Sitta running through my head. Extra note: I just learned that they didn't put him in a hospital for nerds as I had assumed for the last twenty-ish years.)

That would have been misplaced enthusiasm. This sucks.

Maybe, Sale wasn't exaggerating when he repeatedly gave all the credit for his performance in Boston to Sandy. Let's hope he gets it together.