Game 1 Musings

Ah… What to say about Game 1 of the World Series?

I think this photo (from Getty, which I use without intending any kind of copyright infringement) pretty much sums it up:


From the get-go, Beckett was on fire. Going seven innings and only giving up six hits and one run, the former Florida Marlin pretty much dominated the game. (To boot, the kid is actually younger than me, but clearly I’m not bitter by my life choices.) Poor Jeff Francis looked like a 12-year old compared with Beckett, much less with the onslaught of hitters he faced: Youk, Manny, Big Papi, Tek, J.D., Lugo… and the list goes on. Bottom of the fifth was particularly unbelievable—as astutely described by one article as a “hitting clinic”—when the Sox earned seven runs less having to do with base hits and more with inept pitching that walked more guys home than a… a… (I was going to say boy scout, but the analogy doesn’t quite work. But you get the picture.)

I’m bringing my Sox jersey and Tek shirt with me to the NODA conference in Dallas. Yeah, I’m going to be that guy at the conference.


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