Canada-haters should take heart in the fact that the Sox still took two of three from the Jays, and that Burnett will inevitably come up with some ultra-bizarre injury that will sideline him for at least 18 starts. (This year's leading candidates: tragic hotplate incident; sprained earlobe; and nippleitis.)
Under-achievement like this isn't failure per se; it's more like a malaise that settles onto a team. (And onto an economy as well -- yes, Mr. Carter, sure.) It's a holistic New-Agey bad mojo sort of thing. And when it starts to catch everyone, as it did tonight, it can derail entire seasons. Now, I don't think the Sox will stay this torpid for very long -- all it takes is one person to start rapping out the solid hits that will energize the offense -- but let's just say that I wouldn't be surprised by a Tampa sweep this weekend. I also wouldn't be surprised by a Sox sweep. It's April; the team hasn't truely found its stride yet at all. Lowell has yet to get going, Manny has cooled down in the past week, and ... well, we all know about Ortiz. Ellsbury and Pedroia, who have been remarkably reliable so far this season, are both banged up. That leaves your bench enders -- Brandon Moss, Kevin Cash, and Covelli C. Crisp -- to make something happen. Coco has shows signs recently. He's not getting hits, but he's hammering balls and making good contact. If he keeps that up, the balls will start finding the holes and he'll be back on track
Unfortunately, the surging
Devil Rays aren't necessarily the best cure (get it? cured bacon? Um... never mind...) for what ails the Red Sox bats. A 1-2-3 punch of Jackson, Shields, and Kazmir is formidable, especially now that you can't always rely on the Rays' bullpen to blow any lead given them that is under 8 runs. O the times, they are a changin', my friends; the times, they are a changin'.
Help us, Mothra! Help us!
Ed. note: APNDR submitted this game wrap while under the influence of a mild strain of zombie flu, plus a recently-taken Ambien. If any of the words above are garbled, nonsensical, or completely made up in some sort of twins language, we do apologize. APNDR is now safely away from his computer, contentedly chasing the little pink Christina Aguilera monsters that are trying to pinch him.