Thursday, June 12, 2008

Jay Dee Poo!!!!!

Listen -- homeboy messed with Philadelphia, and Pimp don't forgive no backwoods Georgia hick disrespecting the City of Brotherly Love. Homeboy gonna be on my shit list until Jesus comes down and calls us all into Red Sox Heaven, okay? Let's just get that out of the way up front. 

But.... DAMN. 

I mean, I did say that the injury to David Ortiz would give Poo a chance to show us that he's a player worthy of the ridiculous contract he signed.... but THIS? Drewpy is hitting .500 in June. LITERALLY! .500!!!! With another 2-run HR tonight in the Sox' 9-2 win over the Rev. Jeremy Guthrie and the Orioles, his June numbers stand thusly: 18-36, 6 HR, 15 RBI, 15 runs scored, 9 walks. And a stolen base. Sweet sassy molassey.

More significantly, I think we're finally seeing why GMs (all of them, not just Theo) are captivated by the enigmatic Drew. When he's on, like he is now, he absolutely hammers the ball. I think he's nearly killed a couple of pitchers this homestand with line drives up the middle. His home runs are Tiger Woods 3-woods down the middle of the fairway. And he makes it look so... easy that it's not a stretch to see this guy winning a Triple Crown going away.

Obviously it couldn't come at a better time -- Drew has more than covered for the absence of Papi. But....

We can't lose sight of one thing: this guy has a long history of NOT being able to sustain excellence over the course of a 162-game major league season.  It happened only once, in 2004, when Poo(p) put up an MVPish season for the Braves. Can he do it again? If he does it again, will he make it through the 2009 season without a 42-day trip to the DL for a sprained appendix or a bifurcated hemorrhoid? Or will we, in two weeks, be talking about how we're all whacking our Tivos because it sure as hell looks like Drew is swinging in slow motion, or possible is submerged in some Matrix-like gel-fluid?

Such is the enigma of J.D. Drew.

In non-Drew game news, Kevin Youkilis and Mike Lowell each hit their 10th home runs tonight, Lowell's being a 5th inning grand slam off of Guthrie that blew a fairly tight pitcher's duel wide open. Cancer Boy picks up his 5th win with a strong, efficient 100-pitch outing. Mike Timlin, amazingly, did not suck. For the Orioles, noted Bruce Springsteen cover artist K. Charles Millar missed the game with a boo-boo on his knee. Pimp sends out his best wishes for a full recovery. (Yeah, I know that Seth Mnookin's book -- which everyone should read, by the way -- definitely took some of the shine off of Millar, who came across as the worst kind of clubhouse politician. But I still love the goofy bastard. I can't help it.)

It's on to Cincinnati now for interleague play, or as I call it, "Bud Selig's Festering-Pustule-Covered Bastard Homunculus-Spawn". Kill it. Kill it now. Hate. DO NOT WANT.

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