Homesick

I made the fatal error of watching the first Sox-Yanks game of the year Friday night. Down 6-3 in the 8th, I was swearing so much the cat hid (again--she had just recovered from Dana's diatribe against Mr Peanut). When Coco Crisp hit a beautiful line drive, and Tek hit a nice easy ball to center, and the game was tied. And they pushed another run in, and I screamed in happiness. And Hideki took out the Unholy Trinity of the Yank's lineup with barely a concerned blink.
But last night, I was sick and missed, apparently, the baseball equivalent of (the battle of) Armaggedeon.

But there it was Sunday night, in all its splendor and fallen and heroic characters, right down to the inevitable ultimate showdown between Jonathan Papelbon and Alex Rodriguez.

Good and Evil. Assign those qualities as you wish, depending on whose side you are on. Pap retired A-Rod on 287 mph-worth of three fastballs, the last bounced into a force, to nail down Boston's first Fenway Park sweep of the Yankees since 1990 with the 7-6 victory--redsox.com reporter Tom Singer

Epic!