I dislike Lyle Overbay. And, um, hullo? His payback for Alex Cora is...two home runs off Red Sox pitching?! WTF?!?
Anyway, even complaining about that kind of makes me feel like an ass, considering this is pretty much the best, smoothest, most balanced, pitching-stacked, awesome Red Sox team I can ever remember, at least as of May 9th.
The Sox sliced and diced the hapless Blue Jays again, notching another win for my binky...no, the other one...no, the other other one...*sigh* Yes. It is bad. It is at the point where multiple people in my life are making fun of me for my frantic obsession with more different players than I am equipped to handle.
Just zinging back and forth between Jonathan and Joshie and Curt and Daisuke leaves me little grey matter to even think about how studly Mike Lowell has been at the plate or how Dustin Pedroia is going Happy Scrappy Hero Pup on all y'alls azz lately or even how freakin' awesome Big Papi still is. Let alone the little things like, you know. Sleep.
There comes a time even for a Sox fan, apparently, when you just have to shut up and admit life is good. And as long as the Sox continue on this homer-hittin', filthy-pitchin', glove wieldin' asskicking bender of theirs, I'm a happy passenger on the bandwagon, trying to appreciate every second of the ride.