Get Out of My Ballpark

Just a couple a guys horsin' around.

I never thought I’d be so excited for another Pedro Martinez start. I remember when he cam to Boston in the winter of 1998. All of a sudden there were people from the Dominican Republic everywhere. Italian guys with George Hamilton tans were all of a sudden waiving Dominican flags and pretending to be just like Pedro. He made it cool to be a Sox fan again, gave us hope that even in the midst of the least hateable Yankees run possible (you couldn’t hate Torre, because he’s just a stand up guy, and Jeter was still a superstar who played the game right, worked hard and deserved everything that he got, unlike now. Yes, that is the least hateable Yankees team, except for when they suck), our long national nightmare, also known as 86 years o’ pain, was coming to an end.

Just a couple a guys horsin' around.

Pedro was appointment viewing in the days before TiVo made that obsolete. Every time he took the ball he could do something amazing. Would he pitch ten perfect innings and then lose because his team couldn’t score (that once happened to him), or would he give up three homers in five innings and go down in flames (also happened)? No matter whether he pitched well or poorly, Pedro was the freaking man. All you need to do is make a list of the things he did in his first few seasons here to remember how great he was: 17 K one hit in Yankee Stadium, Game 5 1999 ALDS, carrying around a celebrity (apparently he was huge in the DR) midget for the second half of the 2004 season, using more Soul Glo than Eriq LaSalle in Coming to America. Just to name a few.

Oh ya, he's a gamer, too.

And tonight, as he takes the mound against Andy Pettite in a match up which would have had every Fox executive walking around with a huge erection ten years ago, we fans of the Boston Red Sox turn to Pedro again.

This time we turn to him not to help us erase nearly a century worth of misery and pain, but to save us from a winter full of the same. The Yankees fans, never believers in not counting their chickens before they have hatched, are already coming out of the woodwork. A whole new generation of douchebag pink hat Yankees fans are all of a sudden telling us how they have suffered through the past nine years, and how the Yankees did it the right way. They keep walking into my office and saying, “How about those Yankees?”

GOOOOOOOOO 'DRO!

We need Pedro to keep us from a winter of these people having their delusions fed into by the media. Sure, Joe Buck is already planning the train the Yanks are going to run on him after the Series, and it was hard to understand McCarver (moreso than usual) as he tried to call the game with A-Rod’s steroid reduced balls in his mouth, but the rest of the media has so far been uncontaminated. And we all know that the worst is yet to come, with Rodriguez’ first ring will come the inevitable book (he may be illiterate, but if Johnny Damon can write a book so can he) and ESPN’s retrospective on A-Rod as the greatest player ever. Teixeira would grace the cover of a Wheaties box telling kids to eat healthy and work hard so that someday their wife can carry their balls in her purse. A.J. Burnett and C.C. Sabathia will open up their on line of soaps (made Fightclub style from fat liposuctioned out of Sabathia’s ass) and shaving creams (perfect for pieing the faces of guys who are less overpaid than you and actually contribute).

So please Pedro, let your Soul Glo, and give us one more night of baseball, and a better chance of not having to hide until pitchers and catchers report. Another playoff collapse for the Yanks would just be icing on the cake.

Go Sox.

102 Days.

Done.