This was originally posted at 8:30pm CST on Wednesday - 30 minutes before gametime. After Bellhorn got picked off second, Cabrera and Manny screwed up a pop fly, and the Sox left the bases loaded TWICE in TWO innings, I deleted this post because, well, everyone knows the baseball gods do not like confident Red Sox fans. The Sox went on to win a thriller, one that I will most likely write about once my heartbeat stabilizes and the vomit has been cleaned off my living room floor. So again, I will attempt to post this now-outdated entry. All apologies to the baseball gods, but nothing can stop us now.
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9-3.

That's probably something that an unbiased baseball analyst could have predicted. I mean, Schilling on the mound against Washburn, Boston's league leading offense against...Vlad - a 9-3 shelling isn't that big of a surprise.

Unless, of course, you are a Red Sox fan. Being a Red Sox fan means breaking into a sweat 24 hours before gametime, pouring over stats, and convincing yourself that despite the fact that your team is better, they'll find a way to lose. All we know is history. Sure, deep down we believe that this is the best team out there, and if games were decided on stats alone, we'd be planning a parade in Boston tomorrow. But in the playoffs, crazy things happen, and no one knows that better than Red Sox fans.

So when the Anaheim Angels attempted to stage a comeback last night in the 7th inning, the members of Red Sox Nation reached for the jumbo sized bottles of Tums that we keep by the TV. "But we had an 8 run lead! There's no way we'll blow that!" we told ourselves. But buried deep in the back of our minds, wedged in between Bill Buckner and Aaron Boone, was the fear that this game was about to get out of hand.

And then, with Johnny Damon on third and two outs, Doug Mientkiewicz laid down the perfect bunt and brought Damon home, sealing the victory for the Sox. Was it a ballsy move by a defensive replacement with 2 outs in the bottom of the 8th? You bet. Would he have been skinned alive had it not worked? Most likely. Did it pay off? Of course it did.*

Because this is the 2004 Boston Red Sox. The Tums are now in the trash. The Maalox has been buried in the medicine cabinet. Because we know. Curt knows it. The team knows it. And now we know it.

This is the year.

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*Was this entire post just a poor excuse for another sass-a-thon masturbatory celebration of our gold glove first baseman? You bet your ass it was.